#I don't remember season 2 at all. wiped from my memory

[arttsuka]

Why did no one tell me beastars season 3 will be dropping on Netflix soon

[ineffable-suffering]

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 1: The Story of Job

I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.

I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!

Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.

Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."

This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.

And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?

What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.

"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"

We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.

Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.

Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.

So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.

So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.

So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.

Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:

... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:

... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:

I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.

And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).

So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!

And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.

They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.

Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:

The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.

You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.

More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.

Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.

Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.

Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.

Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.

Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.

Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.

There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!

It's subjective. It's unrealiable.

It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.

The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):

God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.

God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.

Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."

Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)

Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.

Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).

Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.

Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Hugs and kisses, (God)!

[starlightshadowsworld]

I don't think we talk enough about how traumatising the memory erased stuff is.

Like how hard must it have been for everyone to suddenly realise years of their lives were missing.

To just come to the chilling realisation someone up until an hour ago was your friend.

Has caused the apocalypse.

You think your a first year high school student but nope.

Turns out you've already graduated.

Do they even know how old they are?

You don't know what's changed in your life, what hasn't.

Byakuya's whole family company is gone.

Makoto won't know if Komaru is alive for a long time.

... Are they the only ones left?

Food's suddenly an issue.

They have nowhere else to go.

Makoto has to carry on like his friends didn't just try and kill him.

Everyone else is gone.

They won but... Did they?

And that's just the first game, the Remnants are on a whole other level.

They've caused genocide.

Killed family, friends.

And don't know who or if anyone's left.

Hajime basically lost himself and his own identity for who knows how many years and he's just supposed to just... Exist like nothing happened.

It's like waking up from a nightmare and realising it was all true.

And they don't know what their forgetting or even if they want to remember.

All of them are alive but... Is that good?

They all know who killed them, and have to go on like they didn't.

And their alive...

Nagito's back in a body that's still sick.

Does Nekomaru have a body?

Hell, Sonia's country doesn't exist anymore.

And if I'm remembering correctly, Chiaki's still gone...

... Fucking glad Makoto was here at the end to do damage control because holyshit.

He's already gone through all of this and now is helping them get through it.

Which is great but also means he went through it alone.

Komaru has all her memories in tact but has to constantly choose her words.

Lest she sends Makoto or anyone of the other survivors into a crisis.

And than you have what may be the worse case, V3.

Because Shuichi doesn't even know if anythings real anymore.

Is he real?

Is his name Shuichi Saihara?

How many times has he died?

Is this the real world? What even is the real world?

Am I even a detective? Is all of my personality fake? Who am I? What was made for the show and what's real?

Does it even matter?

Do I have a family? How old am I? How long is 53 seasons? Are my friends still my friends, are they the same?

Is any of this real? Am I real?

If V3 ends like Danganronpa 2 did, is Kaede alive?

Do they remember each other? Is Kaito still sick?

Was Tsumugi ever a friend?

And again, knowing exactly who killed who.

..... You know people give Junko a lot of credit for causing despair.

As she deserves.

But her boyfriend deserves just as much because... Holyshit my dude this is sick.

Her boyfriend was, Yasuke Matsuda the Ultimate Neurologist.

Aka the dude responsibile for all the memory wipes.

Shame she killed him because talk about a power couple.

Causing the end of the world and lasting trauma to everyone involved.

Makoto gonna have to go give everuone therapy while also desperately needing therapy.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 11 Eternal eclipse

Chapter 11 of Tragedy at the Miller’s

A/N- This chapter was an emotional one to write, more than the previous one

Warning- ANGST, talks of violence and death, thoughts of suicide, spoilers for season 2, Remember this is a rewrite not an AU, so the major stuff that happens in the show will happen here :)

Pairing- Joel Miller x daughter!reader (platonic of course :), OC x Fem!reader

Episode- 2x03

(If you want to be tagged let me know!)

————

What sweet escape is there from the deafening echoes of your father’s screams torturing your every waking second?

What mercy will erase the violent memories of him getting violently beaten to death?

What trick can you play on fate so it can cut your life line and stop you from hearing your father's last words repeating again and again, adding to that merciless torture?

“Don't look…baby.”

What is the answer to all your loaded questions? If it was not Abby, then what?

You look around the clinic bathroom for a quick answer, something that will let you join him quickly, but you find nothing until…you look past your reflection. There in the depths of that steaming bath water is your answer…

Nothing can be as painful as the torture you went through, and will go through from here on out, so there’s no hesitation or fear. You were supposed to undress and wait, but you dip in the bath, getting quickly enveloped by the steaming water, and seeing darkness when you close your eyes.

A part of you expects all that grief and trauma to follow you, but there’s a peaceful abyss in the darkness, so you sink under and wait to finally be complete with your family.

It’s the only way to know peace again. It’s the only way to end the pain that awaits you. It’s…the only way to be with him again…

Yet…you can almost muster a laugh when you hear the door open, letting in fate’s intervention. Your husband, Apollo.

Said man sees you completely sunken in and reaches in to pat your shoulder, making you rise from the water and not care to wipe the water off your eyes when you open them. You just sit there with your eyes downcast and dark, with the horror still clinging to you.

“I told you to wait for me,” he says the same way he’s been speaking to you since you reunited in the middle of the street; softly and like he’s afraid that if he speaks any louder, he’ll hurt you in some way.

“At least you helped by loosening up that dry blood,” he adds so he knows he’s not scolding you, he’s just reminding you kindly of what he told you—“I'm going to start with your face, okay, my love?”

You don’t respond or acknowledge him, you simply sit still as he rubs soap on the rag and then gently touches your face to gently and slowly scrub your father’s blood off your face.

“Maria and Tommy will be back, they just have to take care of other things around town,” Apollo fills the morbid silence. “Our friends will come visit soon, and my dad will take Teddy home later. If not, Maria said he can spend the night with her.”

Finally, after a long silence, you shake your head, letting him know without a need for words that you want Teddy to be home, and he doesn’t argue against it, not in your state.

Apollo would actually not dare to try and upset you at all, thanks to Maria and Jesse, he knows why you returned home in such a disarray. He doesn’t know what exactly happened or how exactly you got hurt, but he knows enough to ask for time off work to be with you and be extremely gentle with his words and actions.

He wants to know how you ended up getting hurt, but he can’t bring himself to ask, so he has no choice but to wait to read the reports. Until then, he just washes the blood off your face, and when there’s no trace of red left, he moves onto your hands, skipping your throat because the nurses had cleared that area when they tended to your wounds. However, when he starts scrubbing your hands, he notices how filed down your nails are, and the cuts on all ten of your fingertips, almost as if you had scraped your fingers until they bled.

Once again, he doesn’t ask; he just tends to you quietly until finally you lift your eyes off the water and pull one hand away to start signing.

Now, he doesn’t know as much as you do, but he knows the alphabet, so he understands when you sign, “ELLIE.”

“Oh,” he gasps and lets his hand hang over the bathtub to give you the answer you seek. “She had some broken ribs. They’re tending to her now by the best doctor, Mia,” he lets you know with a smile in hopes you’ll mirror it, but you just express faint relief and a light nod.

“She’ll need to stay here until she heals,” Apollo continues to share. “Which is good knowing her. She’d probably try and get back to work tomorrow.”

You nod again in agreement and then pull yourself closer to the edge of the tub to ask after someone else.

“DINA,” you sign, making Apollo continue scrubbing your hand.

“She’ll be fine. The drugs have worn off, and they'll tend to that frostbite on her hand,” he lets you know, making you let out a short and deep breath of relief before you continue to look down at the water.

“And you,” he adds sweetly and with another sweet smile. “Will get to go home today. There’s no need to stay with a bruised throat. I think you’ll be more comfortable at home anyway.”

Home…

It’s supposed to bring you peace. It’s meant to be an escape from the everyday commotion of work and this apocalyptic life. You hoped with every fiber of your being that it would be an eternal escape anyway, and in some way, it is some escape. Home does offer some peace, but only because it offers sanctuary from the outside world.

You don’t fear that the infected will roam the streets, that’s not why you don’t leave home when you step foot in it. Home doesn’t keep the violent and painful memories away; no, you have those every day and every night.

When you close your eyes the first night at home, you think you’ll be in that peaceful abyss once again, but you end up back in that lodge, seeing your dad slowly slip away right in front of you.

Every single night it’s like you’re being tortured, feeling every raw ounce of grief and crippling pain. It reaches the point that Theo needs to start sleeping in his own room so he wouldn’t be startled awake by your screaming. You had advised Apollo to do the same, but he refused to, so every night, like clockwork, he wakes up to you screaming and offers you the comfort of his soothing embrace.

Apollo is the sweet reminder that you’re not there again, so you keep him close. Being near him or in his embrace eases your pain and makes days easier to navigate, but he’s not enough to ward away your paranoia. It’s why you don’t leave home for three months, because home is a sanctuary. Home keeps you from failing your dad again, it keeps you from being taken back to that lodge again and watching him get beaten to death.

Albeit eventually, sometime throughout those three months, Apollo has to return to work. He’s the head of the construction unit now, you see, because the previous one died, so who else can fill his shoes but the man he mentored?

Yet you’re not alone. You’re never alone when he’s gone. If it’s not your Uncle Tommy, it’s Maria, or Mia. Even Dina is around sometimes, but you’re never at home alone.

That would annoy anyone; it would annoy you when it hit a certain point, but why would a corpse be annoyed?

That’s what you are. A shell of a person who has a beating heart, working lungs, but no soul. It was sucked right out of you, leaving you roaming the earth like a corpse.

You do eat, but hardly. You take care of your son, but every achievement he makes passes over your head. You listen to Apollo, your Uncle Tommy, Maria, your friends, and Dina talk, but you never respond to anyone besides mindless nods and blinks.

Life just passes by. The snow melts, the bitter coldness begins to leave, and day by day spring slowly takes over the earth, but everything might as well be bitter, dull, and lifeless because you don’t bother to care.

It comes to a point where everyone who loves you, except for Ellie and Jesse, meet up at your house to talk about you, thinking you’re busy putting Theo to sleep. Albeit he's quick to fall under the spell, so you overhear everything that is said.

“It’s been 3 months, Mia,” you hear Uncle Tommy raise his voice at your friend. “If something is wrong with her, you need to tell us.”

“N-No,” Mia argues. “Nothing is wrong with her. Her wounds have healed. She should be able to talk now.”

“Then?” Your uncle quips with worry.

Mia sighs, and there’s a moment of silence before you hear Gail, Mia’s adopted mom, speak up for her daughter. “It's a trauma response. She may not be doing it on purpose. It’s her mind's reaction to everything that happened that day, but now it all depends on her. You can’t force her to speak. She needs to decide on her own.”

“And if she never does?” Maria asks with the same concern that everyone in that living room carries.

“Then she never does,” Gail puts it bluntly. “But either way, I’m going to start her therapy tomorrow. That's what you still want, Apollo?”

A second of silence passes before you hear your husband speak. “Yeah. We've been putting it off for long enough, and I…I don’t know how to help her anymore. Her nightmares don’t stop, and I…I don’t want her to suffer anymore. She doesn’t sleep. She doesn’t eat. I…don’t want this to take her. So please. Come.”

Tears slip from your eyes, and you rest your head against the wall as you take in his words and think about everyone gathered in your home, worried about you.

You don’t want them to be worried. You don’t want to be a burden. It’s all just…impossible.

Life…without him…

If you make a sweet escape, no one will worry. You’ll be no one’s burden, and most importantly, you’ll be with them again; Sarah and your mother, whom you never got to meet but was your dad's great love, according to your Uncle. Most importantly, you’ll be with your dad again. You crave that sweet afterlife so dearly…

An end to the pain…

However, one of the reasons you don’t take that path suddenly stirs awake and looks up at you with his father's sweet eyes, making you wipe your tears off your cheeks and muster a soft smile.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

And then, in the silence of the day is an interruption. A disturbance in your day-to-day life.

Yet even though you were broken from the spell you were under, you don’t move to open the door after a visitor rapped their fist on the wooden door. You don’t pretend to be busy, you remain seated in your rocking chair with your blanket covering your legs and your crocheting project in the same state it’s been for the past three months, just a square.

The visitor, on the other hand, walks into the living room trailing after your Uncle Tommy, revealing themselves to be Gail. As predicted.

“Hello,” she greets as she walks past your Uncle to stand at his side and face your pathetic state, and since you can’t speak, you just offer her a tight-lipped smile before you look down at your crochet square and pick up the needles to pretend to be busy.

“Well, make yourself at home. I’ll be close by,” your Uncle Tommy interjects in the awkward silence, taking no time to turn away and walk off, leaving you alone with Gail and her intentions, you really don’t plan to entertain.

“Well, you can put that shit down, we both know you weren’t doing it before I got here anyway,” she says bluntly, making you pause and wait a moment before you drop the needles and keep looking away.

“We’re also not going to pretend that you don’t know why I’m here. You’re smarter than that, so get up and come with me.”

You draw out a deep breath and slowly raise your head to face her with a glum look, making her think you’re going to give her a hard time, but you pull the blanket off your lap and toss it on the couch before you rise off your seat.

“Good,” she praises you and doesn’t fret to walk off. You follow after her at a normal pace, not giving much thought to her grabbing a bag next to the doorframe, and not asking questions about where she’s taking you. You follow her until you notice that she’s heading to the backyard. That's when you stop in front of the back door, hoping that the door will close behind her, securing you inside, but Gail is quick to notice that your footsteps are not trailing after her, so she turns and manages to catch the door before it closes.

“Come,” she beckons you outside. “Just to your backyard.”

You step back, telling her that you refuse to follow along now, but she takes a step past the door as she keeps it open, and hardens her gaze.

“There’s no point in making you,” she argues. “But if you want to be difficult, I will be difficult right back. Come. Outside. I need you to see something.”

You think about her threat and know she means it, but what is her persistence compared to what she wants to show you?

You have an idea as to what she may want to show you after all, and even the thought of it makes you want to cry.

“Ellie gets out of the clinic in a week,” she then cuts through the silence to share that bit of information about a girl you haven’t gone to see in three months.

“Do you want her to see you the way you are? Is that the example you want to give your sister?” She cuts deep, forcing you to think about what she said and come up with an answer, which is no. You don’t want her to see you the way you are. That’s not the image you want her to have of you after she gets out of the hospital.

You want her to see someone…handling her grief. An example of strength so she can be so and know that it will be okay. Yet how can you be the very picture of that with the way you look now?

Thus, you drag out a deep breath and step forward, making Gail offer you a tight-lipped smile before she continues her path outside.

This time, you trail after her, and the moment you step outside, you gasp deeply as you’re hit with the simple touch of fresh air. You then immediately shield your eyes from the sun’s rays breaking through the branches of the great oak trees that live around your backyard, and duck your head whilst your shoulders tense up as you’re offended by all the noise that travels through the sky.

When you finally manage to catch up to Gail by the garden of wildflowers, your discomfort slowly washes away. The sun still slightly burns your skin and bothers your eyes, and the noise is just as annoying, but you don’t let it drive you inside. You let it all be as you keep your eyes on the vivid green leaves that decorate the oak tree.

“Look down here and tell me what this garden means to you,” she gets right to business with a strict and professional voice.

You remain defiant though and let your eyes wander the trees, feeling the sun stop burning and start feeling warm and kind against your skin.

“Look,” she presses with her voice raised, and so you proceed to blink and drag your eyes down, but you keep every feeling, thought, and memory at bay.

“So?” Gail probes.

You simply shrug, making her sigh and crouch to study the little yellow rue flowers that take part in the great wild garden.

“I think these Rue flowers are lovely,” Gail shares her thoughts, making you cross your arms over your chest. “When did you plant these?”

You don’t say anything, of course and since she already knows the answer, she continues for you.

“Was it after you came back five years ago? They’re very pretty.”

You bite your lip and glance away.

“These purple ones are really nice too,” she adds, and so you grip onto your arms and keep your eyes averted.

“Everything is just so lovely. I think there’s a purity to flowers. Grace. A resilience and a rather dependable beauty in this new life. You know? Infected roam the earth, bad people live amongst us, but this…these flowers are something you can always count on when you want to see something so perfectly beautiful. Furthermore, when you can’t see them, at least you know they’re still here, growing tall even through it all.”

You look down and see the picture she paints with the flowers. You can understand everything she says, but every personal meaning you have connected to all that’s beautiful is still kept away.

You meant to lock it away in the dark corner of your mind, but you weren’t strong enough, so it came rushing down. The only thing keeping it from completely crushing you is your fight to keep it at bay.

“Oh, ok,” Gail sighs and pushes herself to her feet before she pulls out something small from her bag that fits in her balled hand.

“If this doesn’t mean anything, then you won't mind if I torch it, right?” She says and catches all your attention.

“Tell me,” she huffs and reveals a match and a striker as she opens her hand. “What does this wildflower garden mean to you?”

You watch her pull out a match and hold it up between her and you.

“The yellow flowers are Rue flowers. You planted them with your dad in memory of your mother. Am I right?” She asks, and since she doesn’t get an immediate answer, she answers for you. “Yes, I am right.”

You swallow thickly and drop your arms to your sides to ball your hands tightly in defiance of what she threatens to bring out.

“The rest of these beautiful flowers are a reminder of who you’ve lost, right? Right.” She nods. “But mostly your sister. The one you and your dad adored. The one who looked after the both of you. The one you would spend breakfasts with just before she had to go to school and your dad had to go to work—”

You shake your head, and your eyes begin to sting along with your throat as your mind slowly gives signs of pain.

“These flowers aren’t just a reminder of her. But of that life with her and him. They’re the reminder that no matter what, your sister and now your dad will always be with you. Even if the flowers themselves aren’t showing, you know that they’re still here, underground, in the same way your dad is and will always be here. With you. Even if he’s not alive, he’s still here…with you. So what if I torch it?”

She won’t do it.

She won’t dare to, so you don’t give her what she wants or what she threatens to set free.

You remain defiant, so she chuckles maliciously and lights the match before she holds it up between you and her again.

“You think I won’t do it?” She reads your mind and smirks at you before she tilts her hand down to let the match dangle between her fingertips.

“Watch me,” she snaps, and you see her loosen her grip, making your heart begin to race with fear.

“I won’t let it burn my fingers,” she adds and looks down at the match before, in the blink of an eye, she lets the match go, causing your eyes to widen, and a breath to catch in your throat seconds before you reach over with the attempt to catch it.

Albeit you’re too slow, the match hits the ground, and the flames don’t hesitate to start wanting to consume everything in its path. So before they can kill the beautiful wild garden that holds everything sweet and hopeful, you quickly stomp out the fire and look at her bewildered and with tears welling in your eyes.

“Tell me,” she insists softer, and this time, after she almost took it all away, you feel it break like a weak dam.

Everything you tried so hard to keep away comes bursting out like a cascade of water, and when that happens, there’s no way of trying to put it all back in. It’s too late and impossible. Everything comes apart.

Every attempt to keep every feeling back washes away. The memories of the day you lost your dad are loud, and his last words are even louder, but it’s every single memory where he wasn’t being tortured, where you were happy, and when he was simply alive, that consume you completely, dragging you under the surface where you can’t breathe because of the emotions that come rushing up your throat, and where you can’t see because of the tears that cover your eyes.

The only way to breathe is by coming up for air, so you do. You surface and take that breath, and when you do, you can’t help it, you start to let out a mighty, painful wail like never before as if you had been holding everything back and only now were able to let it out.

It hurts. It really fucking hurts. It’s like every part of you is on fire, but you can’t stop. You let it all out and continue to wail for the father you loved and lost.

You lose your balance and fall on your knees. You almost fall on your hands, but there to catch you is none other than your Uncle Tommy, who had been on standby by Gail’s instructions.

“It’s okay, baby girl. It’s okay.” He whispers as he cradles you. “I’m here.”

You grip onto him and part your lips to utter your first words in months. “He’s…he’s gone,” you say hoarsely and wail again before you bury your face in his chest and sob like the day he died.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “He is, but never forgotten.” He whispers, and you cherish it as you weep and continue to weep. The pain of grief and loss doesn’t wash away with all your tears, nor does it just go away when you muster the will to speak again. Maybe grief will be a long companion, but the wildflowers are vivid with color, the sky is a sweet hue of blue, and the sun is brightly yellow.

“I think…these flowers will look just perfect in your garden.” Your Uncle says after Gail left, and you were able to stop crying, and able to pull yourself away. “Don’t you think?” He asks and pulls out a couple of lovely blue Irises still connected to its root, begging for it to be part of the dirt so as to not die.

“Gail brought them for you to plant,” he says, giving you the answer as to why Gail was carrying a bag that she left here.

“Where should we put them?” Your Uncle asks and brings the flowers down to a spot already occupied by many a flower. “Here?”

You scoff and remark at him hoarsely. “Are you jokin’?”

He sniffles and flashes you a sly grin before he gets on his feet, making you mirror his actions.

“There,” you point out and lead him to the spot to give your new flowers a place to thrive.

After a while. After you planted the Irises and spent time in your wildflower garden, basking in the sun your body has lacked for three months. Apollo comes home from work, finding you and your uncle sitting on the bench swing.

“Hey,” he says with an air of disbelief and hope as he sees you outside for the first time in months.

“Hey, Apollo,” your uncle greets your husband as he walks over to join you by the bench swing.

“Hi,” you still can’t get your voice to sound clear, but it’s not like it matters to Apollo; he still looks at you with shock, pride, and a twinkle in his eyes.

“Oh my god,” he gasps and quickens his pace to reach you faster, making you get off the bench swing to let him embrace you and undoubtedly hug him back.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” he coos as he holds the back of your neck with one hand and rubs your back with the other.

“Teddy?” You ask for your one-year-old.

“He was sleeping, so I put him to bed.”

You hum before you hug Apollo tighter, not saying it then, but demonstrating how much you love him.

You can’t even begin to fathom how alone he must’ve felt in the time you didn’t talk, and you were there physically, but mentally, you just weren’t there.

He could’ve given up or not been so patient, but he never complained or turned his back. He held you every time you woke up screaming and when you’d cry in the middle of the day.

“Well,” your uncle breaks you and Apollo apart, but you don’t stray from one another. He keeps his arm around your waist and you tuck your hand in his coat pocket—“I’m going to head out now. You’ll be okay?”

You sigh shakily and nod ever so lightly. “Yeah. Tell Maria not to come tomorrow. I…don’t know what I’m going to do, but I know I don’t need to be looked after anymore. Thank you.”

Your uncle scoffs. “Of course, Sunny. Don’t mention it, but how about dinner, then? At our place? It’s okay, don't bring anything with you.”

Without needing it to be discussed, you nod to give your uncle the okay, making him smile before he begins to head out.

However, before he can leave, you break away from Apollo to catch your Uncle in an embrace. “Thank you, Uncle Tommy,” you whisper shakily.

“You don’t have to mention it okay?” He assures you. “It was nothing. We’re family. Always.”

You nod, and he holds you closer before he interjects.

“You remember where we put your dad to rest, yes?” He asks.

“Yeah. I remember,” you let him know and then pull back. “Get home safe.”

He scoffs and nods before he waves Apollo goodbye and then leaves, leaving you and Apollo alone in the garden where you look at the flowers and think of everything you need to tell him. Everything he needs to hear after three months of you being…not here.

“Apollo,” you don’t hesitate to say, and look away from the flowers to meet his already attentive gaze. “I—”

“Don’t say it,” he cuts you off and closes the gap to be face to face with nothing but an inch of space left between you—“it was really nothing and we made a promise to each other the day we got married. For better or for worse,” he repeats those sacred vows. “I meant them and I live by them not only because you’re my best friend, but because I am in love with you and I couldn’t abandon you when you needed me most.”

You move in, leaving no gap left to be able to grab his hand and be physically connected. “But that’s it, you didn’t abandon me, and for that I will always be grateful. So thank you…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

He shakes his head and brings his other hand up to cradle your cheek with his warm palm. “And you don’t have to. Ever so don’t look at it that way because you’d never want me to see it that way. Right?”

“No.” You shake your head right away, making him flash you a smile before he lets your hand fall to hold your face with both hands and keep your eyes on his so as not to stray even an inch.

“Tell me, what do you feel now?” He asks.

You cup his hands and sigh. “Like I’m here…my heart was beating and my lungs were drawing in air before, but I was never here. My body was only an empty shell. But now…now I’m here and it hurts so much worse, but,” your voice trembles. “I want to try and…make it hurt less. I want to keep talking to Gail.”

Apollo sighs with relief and then caresses your cheeks. “I’m glad to hear it,” he says. “Really. I’m proud of you.”

You draw in a shaky breath before you drop your head on his shoulder, letting him press a gentle kiss on top of your head before he wraps his arms around you once again.

“I’m here,” he whispers.

“Me too,” you whisper back and let a silence linger before you break it with a desire. “I want to go pay my respects. I want to see my dad's grave.”

“Of course. We can go whenever you want.”

“Now,” you blurt and pull away to find his gaze. “Please.”

Once again, Apollo is too kind, he gives in. “Okay. Let me just let our friends know. They want to accompany you, if that’s okay?”

You nod. “Yes, of course. I’ll get Teddy ready and we can go.”

He hums, and without delay, you do as you agreed upon. You wait for Teddy to wake up first, and then after he’s ready, you gather your friends, ride out of town, and find yourselves in Jackson’s cemetery occupied by all of the loved ones everyone’s lost.

You have never had to come until now, but you find no trouble in finding your father. You wish you had struggled to find his grave to have time to process the fact that he’s buried here and that you’ll never get to see him again, but you find his name amongst the row of other dead and instead linger behind to take time to process the fact that he won’t be waiting for you, or meeting up with you. You have to walk to his tomb placed where he’ll be forever. Even when you’re nothing but bones as well.

No one rushes you, though. They let you take your time and wait with you until you’re finally able to approach the tomb.

“Hi Daddy,” you greet, and for the first time in thirty years, you cast a shadow over him. “I know…it’s been a while. I know I wasn’t here when they buried you, but…I’m here,” you cry and crouch down, reading the words carved on the wooden tomb.

‘Joel Miller’

‘09-26-1967 - 01-01-2029’

‘Beloved Brother and Father’

“I’m sorry,” you blurt after you read the carved letters. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I,” you stammer. “I did try. I’m sorry.”

Footsteps close in on you before a shadow casts over your figure, swallowing your shadow before you feel a warm hand on your shoulder as they crouch down by your side, revealing themselves to be Apollo and Theo in his arms.

Apollo doesn’t proceed to say anything; he just stays by your side with his hand on your shoulder, stopping you from saying everything else you had to say, everything that was already written out in your mind after months of thinking about it, and leaving you with that weight on your chest.

“Teddy, why don’t you put the flowers down for your grandpa,” Apollo tells Theo, who’s already come to visit your dad with your Uncle Tommy and Maria.

“Just there,” Apollo instructs your son before letting him go, making you hand him a bunch of yellow Rue flowers that Teddy places down without a struggle.

“Good job, Teddy,” Apollo praises him, making the boy turn to smile with glee, and causing you to clap for him and his great achievement.

“Good job, baby,” you follow up by saying as you wipe the tears off your cheeks and offer him a sweet smile, making the boy get the idea to walk over to you to hook his arms around your neck and cling onto you instead of his dad.

“You did good,” you whisper to him and cradle the back of his head, remembering at that moment the first time your dad saw Theo and held him.

He was so happy that you thought his heart would give out with joy. He also struggled to hand Theo back, so you thought he’d leave with him.

Now…your son will grow up and not even remember him. He’ll know him by all the things you’ll tell him. Other than that, he’s too young to remember how much your dad absolutely loved him, all because…

You drop your head and hold Theo close as if seeking that embrace from your father in someone who’s a part of him. You know it will never be the same, but a part of your dad lives in your son.

“Why,” you pause and clear your throat of that ball of emotions caught in your throat. “Why don’t you say hi to Grandpa?”

Theo pulls away, but keeps one hand around you as he turns to face the tomb. “Ha,” he tries his best to say. “Ha!”

You giggle and kiss his cheek before you stand up with your son in arms, causing Apollo’s hand to slip off your shoulder before he slowly mirrors you and stays by your side.

“I will follow you,” Atlas breaks his silence as he sees you on your feet. “If you want to get justice for what those bastards did, I will follow you.”

“I will too,” Mia proclaims, abandoning her mother-like role in your friend group and showing a fierce and dangerous devotion. “I follow you too. It wasn’t right what they did.”

You keep your eyes on your dad's tomb and hear Mia’s husband chime in next.

“I know I joined your friend group because of Mia, but you’re special to me now too. All of you. And Joel was a good man. I will follow you too.” He pledges and all their words warm your heart. They make you happy, and they let you know that even if you’ve been a bad friend for the past three months, you can still rely on them like before.

Yet as touched as you feel, you know revenge is not what you want.

“Thank you,” you interject and pull your eyes off your dad's tomb. “Thank you, all of you, for your support. I appreciate it more than you know. I do.” You nod and then sigh deeply. “But,” you pause and look at each and every one of them. “That’s not who we are. I’m angry. Sad beyond measure, but I’m not going to gain anything going after the woman who…killed my dad. That’s not going to make my pain any less, and that’s not what I want Teddy to know either.” You express yourself with confidence because no matter what you feel, you know that’s not the path you want to take. That’s not who you are.

“Thank you, though. It really means a lot,” you add softly and look back at your dad's tomb, feeling that weight on your chest push down so heavily that you feel it pushing on your heart.

You don’t like the feeling, but you can’t find a way to get rid of it. Not even finishing what you were sharing before you got interrupted would have been the solution. They were just a manifestation of what you feel and have been feeling, so you don't know what the cure is.

It’s not revenge.

Is it time?

Or…

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

“You don’t think she’ll be mad at me, huh, Teddy Bear?” You ask your son rhetorically, but he looks over at you and blinks as if processing what you asked.

Teddy ultimately doesn’t respond, so you don’t prolong the moment; you secure the bag of goodies around your shoulder and then knock on the door and wait.

Moments later, there’s a response from the other side of the hospital room.

“Come in.”

You open the door and slowly push it open, revealing to Ellie, the patient, that it’s you. After three long months, it’s finally you.

“Holy shit,” Ellie gasps as she sits up straighter and looks at you with her eyes wide. “I thought you were dead. Or completely forgot about me.”

You close the door behind you after you walk in and then respond to her absurd comments. Which are reasonable, but it’s still absurd.

“No,” you argue with your voice still a hint hoarse. “I just…”

“Lost your voice,” Ellie cuts you off more seriously now. “Yeah, I know.”

You set Teddy down and he doesn’t hesitate to roam, taking advantage that he’s not being held, whilst you approach Ellie with your lips drooped and your eyes dull out of guilt and shame.

“It’s not only that,” you share. “It’s…I…felt guilty,” you confess and rob Ellie of her smile and make her slowly frown. “You shouldn’t have walked in seeing that and me on the floor not being able to…uhm,” you pause and clear your throat to avoid crying more than you already have. “Well…stop her. I should’ve,” you pause again and put down your bag of goodies as you stop at the edge of her bed. “I should’ve stopped her even if it had gotten me hurt or killed.”

Ellie stares at you hard for a moment, with the wheels behind her eyes churning fast as different thoughts form.

“For that, I’m sorry,” you finish saying and drop your eyes to try and fight back the tears that well in your eyes, regardless of your attempts.

“I think Joel would have died with you if you died saving him,” Ellie says softly, pulling your eyes off the ground to look at her with sadness—“and,” she continues. “It was a tough situation, so don’t apologize. Besides, he wasn’t my dad. He was yours. I should be the one who’s sorry.”

You take in her words and take a seat beside her to hold her hand.

Ellie looks down at your touch with surprise, expecting an estrangement now that your dad wasn’t alive to keep you talking to her, or expecting anything else but your touch.

“You loved him,” you argue with a small and wobbly smile. “And he loved you. There’s nothing to be sorry about. You lost him too.”

Ellie’s eyes flicker down to your interlaced hands before she meets your watery gaze and breathes out shakily as if dropping a mask that hurt her so much to carry. After that, for the first time, she moves in and surprises you with an embrace.

There’s no awkwardness. Just vulnerability that she lets you see, just like that time after David.

Yet it’s that same vulnerability that makes a different kind of guilt creep in. Yet, you don’t let it affect you at this moment. You hold her tightly, feeling a spark of bliss in your heart that only she was able to make you feel.

“You know…” you pause as you sniff her. “You smell like sweat.”

You pull back and study her face, catching a sheet of sweat glistening over her face, proving that what you smelt was right.

“I hope you haven’t been doing something you’re not supposed to,” you manage to tease her. “My best friend is the doctor of this clinic.”

Ellie scoffs and shakes her face with an obvious lying expression. “Nope, I’ve been sitting here…all day. Every day.”

You know she’s lying, but you’re not annoying about it. Instead, you pick up your bag of goodies and then place it over her legs.

“That’s for you,” you let her know with a happy little smile. “Before the outbreak, if you were in this situation, people would’ve brought balloons and stuffed animals, but this is now, and you get out in a week, so,” you breathe out and pat the bag. “I brought you a bag with foods you like and things to keep you entertained. This last week will be hell, so I think it’ll help make the days pass by faster.”

Ellie groans as she grabs the bag to rummage through it, causing Teddy to walk over with curiosity. “Wouldn’t your doctor let me go now? I feel so much better.” She says.

“Sorry.” You offer her a pitiful frown. “But that’s something I cannot make her do. Trust me. Unless you want her pestering you for a week.”

“No,” she grumbles. “They already check on me more than they should.”

You look over your shoulder to make sure no one is coming and then look at Ellie again as you pick Teddy off the ground and sit him on the bed. “I’m sorry about Dina,” you finally address the situation you’ve overheard Dina ramble about the times she’d visit. “I can maybe start giving her the cold shoulder,” you offer. “Albeit she did visit me and stay with me so…maybe I can keep it strictly professional.”

Ellie scoffs as she pulls out a brownie and breaks it in half to share with Teddy as he grows ever so curious. “Nah, I…learned not to be bothered by what she did. It’s Dina. I assumed she’d forget about it. It’s okay. However, I am sorry she visited you.” She says with a teasing look.

You shrug. “Well, I was out of it, but it was nice. We��share a memory that will always keep us connected, so I’m quite touched she went. It’s Jesse whom I haven’t seen. Has he come to visit you?”

Ellie nods with her mouth full, thus making crumbs fall out of her mouth just like Teddy. “Yeah,” she says with her mouth full. “Plenty of times.”

You hum and wonder again why he didn’t visit you. It’s not like you were impossible to reach, you never left your house.

But alas, you push it aside for now and face her with a faint smile. “After you’re out of the hospital, you are welcome to come stay at my place if going back home is difficult.”

Ellie swallows her snack and slowly lifts her gaze to find yours with nothing to say. She just sighs as her face grows serious and glum.

“Thank you,” she offers you, with no say if she’s going to accept your offer or not.

You don’t pester her about it as long as she knows that’s an option.

“Have you gone to his house?” She asks and looks at Teddy as he asks for more of her brownies.

“Uh,” you swallow thickly. “No. Not yet. I thought about going after this, but I-I don’t know. Maybe...”

She hums and grabs another brownie to share with Teddy.

From there on, you can’t think about anything else but stopping by at your dad's house. You argue with yourself between wanting to go and waiting for a different day.

Gail says it’s okay to take things slow. You’re talking again and no longer trapped in your trauma, so you shouldn’t want to do everything at once, but it’s been three months. That’s what you keep telling yourself until you decide not to go.

You’ll go on a different day, maybe when Ellie goes.

Alas, after the hospital, you find yourself in your dad's street, slowly walking up to his house, fully expecting to see him sitting on his porch enjoying the warm sun until you reach his house and see old and new flowers, drawings, and notes in front of his house in his stead.

The porch is abandoned and has a cold shadow covering the wooden chair where he liked to sit and where you found him for the last time, just at the start of the New Year.

Maybe if you walked to the front door and knocked he’d answer, you thought foolishly until you once again noticed the dozen of notes and bouquets left in memory of him, becoming a cruel reminder that no one would answer the door. No one would sit on that porch again to play the guitar in the sun, or try to fight his sleep as he tried to read.

Maybe if you went inside, you’d feel like a part of him was still there. All of his stuff has gone untouched after all, but when you approach the end of that driveway to prepare to walk to the front door, you come to a sudden stop.

No matter how much you wanted to move, your grief would not let you take a step forward because you knew he would not be there. You knew that you’d no longer have dinners at his house or have movie nights. You'll no longer come and find him and Teddy asleep on the couch, and you’ll no longer have someone to share a cup of coffee.

His house will be alone and a harsher reminder of what you won’t have anymore, so instead of going in, you hang around the fence to read everything everyone wrote and let Teddy see and touch all the things that call his attention.

There’s things that make you smile, but there are more things that make you cry as you read how much he impacted everyone who lived in Jackson.

It all brings you close to finding the strength to walk inside, but alas, you still can’t, so you linger where you are for a moment. When you get ready to leave, you hear someone walk over, so you stop and pretend you don’t hear.

That is until you hear Jesse say your name, causing you to turn and face him with Teddy in your arms.

“Jesse,” you greet with a hint of joy and the hint of a smile, but it’s a blink and you’ll miss it type of smile.

“Were you just coming out of your dad's house?” He asks as he glances over.

“No.” You shake your head and steal a glance at the house before you look at all the things and then at him. “I…couldn’t…you know? But it’s okay, Gail says it’s okay to take my time.”

Jesse nods in comprehension and gulps before he glances at the ground and doesn’t prolong the moment. “I saw you walking out of the clinic, and I thought I’d follow you to uh, tell you first, I’m sorry that I haven’t gone to visit you.”

You watch him and hang onto every word, but wonder why someone usually so confident is struggling to speak.

“And two…I’m sorry,” he says in a quieter voice than the one you’re used to hearing. “I should’ve gotten there sooner. Maybe that would’ve made a difference. Maybe he would still be here and you would have your dad, but I didn’t even catch the ones who did it. For that, I’m so deeply sorry,” he shares what’s kept him away with genuine guilt and shame.

“Oh, Jesse,” you whisper and close the gap between you to grab his shoulder so he can at last look you in the eyes—“you did nothing wrong. Nor do you have anything to be sorry about. Maybe if you had been there you would have gotten hurt too, or worse. What happened that day happened for a reason. So please know that I have never blamed you. I actually wondered where you’ve been.”

He scoffs. “Trying to think of the right thing to say,” he shares. “I just couldn’t bring myself to face you. We are patrol partners after all. Friends too. I just…felt ashamed I let my friend down.”

You smile softly and gently shake his shoulder. “Well, as your friend I want to tell you that there’s nothin’ to be ashamed about. Ok?”

Without making things hard, he nods in comprehension, so you offer him one last smile before you let him go and bring up a question. “You workin’?”

“I have some time until my next shift,” he says, so you nod and then share what you have in mind.

“Okay, cool, come over. I was just thinkin’ about gettin’ some lunch.”

——

*A WEEK LATER*

“You need to take that goat back to the barn,” your uncle tells you for the…third time. Not like you’ll listen or consider it. “It’s goin’ to get attached to ya…more than it already has.”

“What should I name it?” You ignore him as you look at the 1 week old baby goat who was ignored by his mama. “You know that some people believe goats are the devil,” your uncle tries to spook you so you'll leave the goat be, but you get a bright idea for a name.

“Ha, Lucifer!” You snap your fingers. “Isn’t that such a good name?” You tell the baby goat over your shoulder, as it doesn’t fall behind.

“Don't worry,” you now address your uncle as you glance at him trailing at your side. “It’s just until it’s weaned and just while I’m here working on the farm.”

Your uncle sighs since he knows better.

“It seems you're slowly getting your color back,” your Uncle points out as he smoothly changes the subject. “You feelin’ stronger?”

You nod softly. “Yeah. The sun doesn’t bother me anymore, and I’ve been trying to push myself when I’m doing my work.”

“Ok, but as long as you’re not straining yourself,” he warns. “Continue to take things slowly. You’re in no rush. You ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

You huff and flash him a smile, leaving a short silence as you approach the area you’re working at to fix the chicken coop.

Albeit when your eyes land on the area, there in the fenced area between the cows and the chickens are Dina and Ellie.

“Maybe you should give that same advice to someone else,” you whisper to your uncle as you both know that they’re up to something since Ellie is here just after she got out of the clinic after three months.

“If she asks what I’m guessing she’s going to ask, then I will,” he responds before you reach the area and acknowledge both girls.

“Hey Dina,” you greet as you open the fence door and walk in with the goat trailing behind you and your uncle trailing behind the goat.

“Hey…aw! Hello there, goat!” Dina says back with more enthusiasm for the goat than you.

“Ellie, I’m glad to see you’re out and about after just getting out of the clinic,” you direct at her, causing her to offer you a feigned smile.

“They said I should get fresh air,” she quips, making you feign a laugh.

“Girls,” your Uncle greets them. “What brings you out here on your day off? And on your first day out of the clinic, Ellie. Weren’t we all gatherin’ at Sunny’s house later to welcome you?”

She nods faintly. “Yeah,” she brushes him off. “But later I won’t get the chance to share what I just learned, so thankfully you’re both here so I can save some breath.”

You and your uncle share nervous looks before Ellie spills what brought her to the farm while you and your Uncle are working. And it’s nothing good.

It seems Dina finally told her about the girl and her friends who killed your dad, and now Ellie is requesting what you were afraid she’d want. Revenge.

That’s why you haven’t told her about what you know and why you told her you forgot, blaming everything on the trauma of the day. Yet it seems Dina doesn’t have the same precaution in mind. She doesn’t seem to know Ellie like you know Ellie, or else she would’ve never told her.

Alas…Ellie knows, and now she’s here telling your uncle and you to go with her to Seattle, so maybe Ellie doesn’t know you.

Yet you don’t turn her down right away and tell her that. Nor does your uncle turn her down either. Whereas Ellie makes your uncle genuinely ponder, you walk away to grab more wire and pretend to be thinking about the plan when, in reality, you just need time to breathe and gather your thoughts as memories of that day threaten to flood your mind.

You think about Abby, Owen, Mel, Nora, and Manny too. You see their faces every day, but you don’t see red like Ellie. You see betrayal, guilt, a deep aching pain, and a great sadness that threatens to take you down by adding to that unbearable weight that gets closer and closer to crushing your heart.

You hurt differently than it hurts Ellie, and that’s the only reason why you return to where they are to listen, but not even consider it.

“Well?” Ellie questions you and your uncle after you come back, making you put the wire down and take a seat next to your uncle before you bend down to pick the goat off the ground and cradle it in your arms.

“I gotta think about this,” your uncle breaks the silence, saying what you were going to lie about, so you end up being quiet and let Ellie retort.

“Think about what? Let’s fucking get these guys.”

Your Uncle glances over at you as you keep your eyes on the goat, as you try your hardest to fight your emotions.

“Ellie,” your Uncle argues and looks away. “It ain’t that simple. The town is still recovering. So are you.”

“Uh, we get where you’re coming from—” Dina interjects, but gets caught off by Ellie countering with annoyance.

“No, we don’t get where you’re coming from, I don’t get where you’re coming from.”

You clench your jaw and start to caress the baby goat while also slowly starting to rub your thigh.

“If it had been you, or her,” Ellie refers to you too. “Joel would be halfway to Seattle before the sun came up.” She argues, but she argues wrong. She argues completely wrong in your dad's defense. He might’ve been an angry man. He might’ve had a reputation, but he…wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t take a path toward revenge. He only got defensive.

“He’d be halfway to Seattle to save our lives,” your Uncle counters correctly. “But when we lost people, no. It would just break him like it was his fault. I saw that time and time again. And don’t talk to me like I didn’t know him. He was my brother.”

There’s a silence where you finally pick your head up to look over at Ellie, catching her sigh and averting her gaze, which in turn makes your uncle continue more gentler and understanding.

“Listen, I’m not sayin’ you shouldn’t do this. But if we’re gonna put a posse together, we gotta do it right, which means taking it to Maria.”

Ellie’s jaw drops as she’s about to argue against your Uncle, but your Uncle beats her to talking, knowing what she had to say. “Yes, it’s fuckin’ necessary…”

You scoff softly and smirk in amusement.

“She’s gonna want a council meeting,” your Uncle continues. “Open it up to the town. Everyone who wants to get heard gets heard.”

“But you two will back us, right?” Ellie asks, and you catch the hope in her eyes.

Yet even that doesn’t change your mind. Albeit, you still lie and nod so she doesn’t argue with you.

“Of course, I will,” your Uncle gives his genuine response, releasing some tension off Ellie.

“Come here,” your Uncle says as he gets up to wrap her in an embrace that she seems to be tense in for a few seconds before you see her ease.

“And you,” your uncle directs at Dina, keeping to herself in the distance. “You hold out information on me again, you got rendering detail for a month.” He warns her as he and Ellie let go, making Dina scrunch her nose.

“Alright,” your Uncle puts an end to the matter, making Ellie and Dina walk away with the attempt to leave, albeit your Uncle stops Ellie before she can walk past the gate.

“Ellie. We buried our dead ten miles south of town. If you want to visit him.”

You let the goat go and continue doing your job.

“When we're on our way to Seattle,” she says and then leaves after Dina, leaving your Uncle with much to think about.

“You’re actually considering it?” You ask after you made sure Ellie wasn’t near anymore.

Your Uncle pushes himself off the fence and then answers. “‘Course. I’m not thrilled that she wants to pursue revenge, but if she wants to ask the council for permission, I’ll give it to her…will you?”

“I don’t have a say,” you deadpan, making your uncle sigh.

“No, but Apollo does, and what you say goes,” he says what you know and what you were pretending to be dumb about—“Will you tell him to accept?”

You don’t stop working, you keep going and give him a simple answer. “You want the truth? No. It’s not good for her to go down this path. It will get her hurt or worse.”

“Yes,” your uncle quickly argues as he approaches you now. “But if we deny her, she'll find a way to do it behind our backs. It doesn’t end well when you try to forbid the young ones from doin’ something. You were the same, and Teddy and any other kids you might have will be the same.”

You finally stop what you’re doing and look back at him. “I heard her out,” you quip. “I was about to walk away, but I heard her out. I will continue to hear her out when she speaks to the council, but my answer won’t change. She won’t like it, but it’s something I’m more than glad to risk…and it’s because I love her. Now, can we talk about something else and finish this?”

Without any more arguments, your uncle keeps his thoughts to himself to respect your choice.

Later that day, when everyone gathers in your house for the get-together you threw for Ellie, she asks Apollo the same thing she asked you, and he gives her hope since you hadn’t discussed it with him, but your Uncle is right, what you say goes. Your voice is heard one way or another through your husband, and he makes sure to ask for your opinion the next day when you’re lying in bed before you have to start the day.

“I want you to vote no,” you don’t hesitate to share without a doubt. “Whatever she might say, vote no.”

Apollo takes in your words and debates them himself only because Ellie is trusting him with this important decision that may or may not depend on him, and saying no feels like hurting her in some way.

“What if she gets the votes regardless,” Apollo brings up, so you drag yourself back, causing his leg to slip off yours, and feeling a hint of coldness as you pull your head away from his chest to face him with your gaze pointed.

“Then she gets them, but at least I’ll know I tried to put my foot down,” you rebuttal and look into his eyes, catching his doubt, so you sigh deeply and argue in your defense.

“What will getting revenge do?” You ask him. “It's not going to heal her grief. It’s not going to bring him back either. She’s just going to get hurt or worse. I get that she’s angry, I am too, but that’s why we handle it. We don’t chase people across the country for something that can’t be undone.”

Apollo sighs deeply and nods stiffly. “I understand,” he mutters. “She’s just putting her trust in me, you know?”

You swallow thickly and nod. “Yeah, I know. She’s putting her trust in me, too, but we’re the ones looking after her now, Apollo. We have to watch over her and make sure she doesn’t get herself killed. She deserves a good and long life. She won’t get that if she leaves.”

Apollo’s eyes linger on you, letting you see his resolve over the matter, but making you feel bad that he also has to go against her.

“Thank you,” you whisper and cup his cheek before you stroke your hand back to cradle the side of his head, making him smile a loving smile as he strokes your chin and then grabs the back of your head, letting you take that as a sign to nuzzle against him again.

“Will you go today?” He asks with worry. “You don’t have to, I’ll vote no.”

“Mia and Atlas are going to sit with me,” you let him know. “And either way, I’m there to support Ellie. I’ll hear what she has to say.”

He hums, and you go quiet to enjoy the little time you have left in silence before you have to get up. After that, you start your day, and the council meeting approaches soon thereafter, meaning you don’t have to handle your nerves all day. Thankfully.

Yet the same topic Ellie brought up the day before with your Uncle Tommy is brought up again, and you get uncomfortable as violent memories threaten to overwhelm you. You almost get up to leave, but you muster the strength to fight them off because your friends are with you to remind you that you’re not in that lodge, and your dad is no longer suffering.

You’re okay, and he’s…dead…

“Which is why I keep saying we need to invest more in turkeys and less in chickens,” Scott, a Jackson Hole resident and speaker for today's council meeting gets off topic, which you kind of enjoy so the matter can be delayed and your decision along with it—“and that brings me back to my earlier point about corn. Corn, some of you have heard me say, is not the easiest crop to grow, but it’s among the fastest. You can plot a graph that shows ease and resources versus time to harvest and get a li—”

“Scott,” your Uncle cuts his rambling off. “I’m sorry, but we gotta keep you on target here.”

“But it’s an open meeting. The bylaws say that—”

“Maybe we should stick to what everyone else came here to discuss,” Maria interjects now.

“I don’t really have an opinion on the Seattle thing,” Scott inputs now, ending the matter once and for all.

“Okay. Thank you,” Maria says and moves down the list of speakers. “So, that was Scott. Next is Rachel.”

You shift in your seat and keep focused, but as murmuring goes around the room and a baby goes fussy, you can’t catch a word that’s said. If it even was said.

“Can’t hear you!” Someone shouts for the entire crowd, making people go quiet and causing some shifting to happen before you finally hear Rachel’s voice.

“I said that Joel meant so much to so many of us. But he wasn’t the only one.”

You blink repeatedly and drop your eyes to your hands clasped on your lap.

“I-I lost my sister that day,” Rachel continues to say. “A lot of people in here buried family. And now, you wanna send, what are you saying, 16 of our best? Well, while they’re gone, who’s gonna be on the wall if Raiders come? A wall that’s barely mended. And none of you up there can promise us that all 16 will come back. So my heart is with you,” she says and says your name along with Tommy and Ellie’s before she finishes sharing her opinion.

“We are too hurt, and it is too soon.”

You sigh and lift your head to look at Jesse, Apollo, your Uncle, and Maria, all up on that platform as Maria brings an end to Rachel’s time.

“Thank you, Rachel. Next is Carlisle,” she moves on, making the old man stand from his seat to address the crowd.

“I’ll be quick,” he clears his throat. “‘Cause this one’s simple to me. People came and killed Joel. So, why wouldn’t we wanna take our vengeance?”

You clench your jaw and sigh deeply with distress caused by the worry that he’s going to encourage the request.

“Well, because we’re not supposed to.”

You peer over your shoulder and look at the man as he’s caught you by surprise.

“Forgive and be forgiven. No grudges. No revenge. And I’m not even a Christian. I’ve always seen the wisdom in that. That’s what separates us from the Raiders, and the murderers. Our capacity for mercy.”

You take in his words with relief, hoping that his honest and wise words will sway the council to vote no.

Yet your relief is then turned to anxiety when Seth, of all people, cuts in.

“Those sons of bitches don’t deserve our mercy.”

You clench your hands into fists and gain Apollo’s surprised and worried gaze from his place on that platform, so you end up holding in what threatens to break you and express the same surprise, but also share your anxiety on the matter.

“Well, of course they don’t deserve it,” Carlisle argues in between all of the crowds murmuring. “That’s what makes it mercy.”

“Well, to hell with that,” Seth exclaims as he gets up. “And to hell with you for saying it, Carlisle.”

“Seth, sit down,” Maria tries to bring an end to the interruption, but Seth becomes a pain in the ass and holds his ground.

“No.”

“You’re not on the list.”

“No!” He screams louder, causing you to drop your head and exhale deeply.

“What the hell are we all talking about here?” Seth continues. “Boo-hoo, it’s not fair. What, we gotta forgive everybody when they show up and piss in our eye? They came into our house. They took one of ours. My God, somebody shoots your brother, you wanna take the locks off your doors? Grow up!”

You begin to nervously rub your thigh, to the point that Atlas notices and tries his best to try and reassure you by putting his hand over yours.

When you feel his touch you look at him and offer him a faint thankful smile before you wrap your hand around his to keep clinging onto that support as Seth goes on.

“You idiots, they’ll come back. They’ll come back because we didn’t make ‘em pay. And when they come back, they’ll be laughing. And you’ll all deserve it. Bunch of goddamn victims.”

The old man sits down, bringing down an awkward silence that you almost want to leave, but you hold on and listen to the last speaker, Ellie.

After Maria finally gives her the floor, she makes the room go silent for a minute before she gets up and pulls out a paper that she reads off of. Surprisingly enough.

“I normally don’t write things down,” Ellie starts off by saying. “Because I normally don’t think before I talk, which has gotten me in trouble before, a lot.”

Oh? She’s rhyming?

“And it’s cost me in ways that sometimes couldn’t be undone. But I can’t afford that right now because I know what I’m asking is a lot. I’m asking us to risk more people and resources, and at the worst possible time. And I want everyone to know, it’s not because I want revenge.”

Oh?

“It’s not,” Ellie tries to make her lie clear, but she’s not fooling you—“what I want is what you used to give people. I want justice. Because it’s either that, or we do nothing. That’s what everyone else out there is going to do for us. Nothing,” she says with more passion. “A whole world of people who won’t lift a finger if something bad happens to me or you. We have a word for these people. They’re called strangers.”

Atlas snorts quietly over Ellie’s words, so you let his hand go and slowly glare at him, making him go serious right away.

“Well, I don’t think that we’re strangers to each other,” you hear Ellie continue. “And I want to know that I can count on you. And I swear, if someone hurts any of you or the people you love, you can count on me...”

You take this time to smile in amusement at Ellie’s complete bullshit attempt to sway the council's vote.

“…that's what holds all this together. Not potluck dinners or New Year’s Eve dances. Definitely not a wall, because that thing got busted through. But Jackson is still here. I’ll accept whatever the council decides. But I’m asking you, please…do what it takes to see that justice is done. Not for me. Not even for Joel. I am asking you, please do it for us,” she finishes her letter in an emotional ending that she even adds tears to. Whether the tears are genuine or not you don’t know, they probably are but that won't change the fact that it’s all still bullshit.

“Thank you,” Maria tells her, bringing an end to the discussion to finally move on to the voting—“The council will now vote on the proposal to send a party of 16 citizens to Seattle to find the people who killed Joel and execute them.”

As the voting begins, Apollo steals a glance at you, and you steal a glance at him and trust he’ll do what you asked, but it’s the others that make you nervous and make you sit at the edge of your seat as if that would help. It only makes you more anxious.

Either way, like watching a clock, the process seems to move more slowly than anticipated. A couple of minutes drag on, and you almost can’t take it, but alas, all the votes are given to Amy-Beth, the one person who will share the votes with the crowd without fear that she’ll lie.

“Amy-Beth?” Maria encourages, and so said girl starts.

“Yes.”

You swallow thickly and sit up straighter.

“No. Yes. No. No. Yes. No, no. No. No. No.”

You let out a shaky, relieved breath and sit back without that fear clinging onto you a moment longer.

“The vote is 8 to 3,” Amy-Beth clarifies. “The proposal is rejected.”

Murmurs spread around the room, but no one interjects this time because the word is officially given now. There’s no do-overs, just disappointment from only a handful of people. The only one you care about, you don’t look at though. Not yet.

“Adjourned,” Maria releases the meeting, making people not linger back. Everyone but the council and you get up, causing a cluster of people as they all want to leave at the same time. That’s why you finally drift your gaze to Ellie, so your gaze won't be detected as she's leaving.

Alas, when you look at the other side of the room where she had been sitting at, you actually end up catching Ellie’s gaze.

You try not to read too much into it. You don’t want to catch the betrayal she feels because, instead of getting at least 4 definite votes in support of her, she only got three, and it was obvious to guess that you lied and voted against her. You haven’t been able to look at her all day. All you greeted her with was a quick good morning, and you sat at the other side of the room with your best friends at your sides.

You lied and made Apollo vote against Ellie’s request. Against the one thing she desperately wanted. The one significant matter that required your support more than anything, and the one matter that she trusted you to have her back on, but you lied and turned your back on her and that hurt and betrayal is plain to see because of the dark shadow that cast over her face as if intentional so you won't miss a thing.

Alas, as ashamed as you feel. You feel no regrets. You’re determined to stand your ground, and that’s obvious to Ellie as the sun keeps basking your face as if…intentional.

——

*LATER*

After the council meeting, you had purposely stayed behind, welcoming people’s pity and sweet consolations to avoid facing Ellie’s disappointment and anger, but you can’t hide forever, and when you return home, sitting on your porch steps is Ellie waiting for you.

She makes herself easy to see and makes sure you know that she’s not here for pleasantries. She knows you know why she’s here, so you hand Teddy to Apollo and usher them inside.

Once the front door is closed, leaving the porch just to you and Ellie, she is quick to get to the point. “Why did you do it?”

You draw in a deep breath and turn away from the door to face her and exhale deeply before you respond. Or at least you try to, because just as you part your lips, she cuts in abruptly.

“You said you would support me, and you had Apollo vote no, why?” She asks as you see her teeter over an edge where her balance all depends on what you’re going to say.

“Because I don’t want you to go down that path,” you say, and manage to keep her from falling into a pit of anger. “I know it was messed up to lie, but it’s not like you would change your mind if I said no that day you asked.”

“No,” she interjects before you keep going.

“Exactly—”

“But you still lied,” she cuts you off with a narrowed glare. “You said I would get your vote to go get justice for Joel, and instead you want me to, what? Sit idly by?”

You shake your head. “No. I want you to grieve the right way, Ellie. I need you to open yourself up to letting yourself grieve.”

Ellie scoffs and shakes her head before she snaps, causing her grip to loosen. “So what? So I can turn to you and be depressed and pathetic for three months?!”

You blink repeatedly in disbelief and feel her words stab your heart.

“Do you not get what I’m trying to do?” Ellie continues to argue, raising her voice with the anger that seeps through. “I’m trying to get justice! You were there! You saw them! We have to make them pay!” She exclaims almost desperately.

“I was there,” you interject this time before she keeps ranting. “I know! I live through that day of my life every day and every night. I see their faces and see him die over and over again. I,” you pause and sigh to collect yourself and try to explain your reasoning behind your protest.

“I miss him too,” you say instead. “But what you want to do won’t get him back. Nothing you do will get him back, so why risk your life? Why risk anyone else’s life over it? Revenge won’t make you feel better, Ellie.”

Said girl holds your gaze with annoyance before she shakes her head and retorts. “That’s a whole bunch of bullshit and you’re a liar. If you really loved Joel, you would have voted yes,” she doesn’t hesitate from saying, making you gasp softly and feel your eyes immediately well with tears as you feel a sharp heartache.

Yet you don’t dare and use such harsh words like she did. You keep your head up and watch her give you her back.

“I’m going to do this with or without you. I don’t care,” she grumbles and walks off the porch, expecting no response, but before she can leave, you blurt.

“What about all the risks my dad took for you to be here? Will you just make that go to waste? Because if you go, there’s no chance you’re coming back. You will get hurt, or worse, so what will make those sacrifices he took to save you?”

Ellie stops in her tracks and keeps her back turned to you for a tense silence that seemed to drag on for hours, when it's only been a few seconds where you unknowingly lose her in that pit of anger.

“You know,” she mutters before she slowly turns to face you with her face contorted with rage and her eyes oozing with that terrible and blinding feeling.

“You know why he made those sacrifices,” she continues sneering as she strides back to you. However, you don’t let her make it all the way to the porch because you meet her halfway.

“Why did those people kill him?” She suddenly asks something she’s never hinted at wanting to know. She asks for the first time, letting you see a flicker of sadness in her eyes this time.

“The truth,” she blurts as her eyes well with tears, and you gulp and falter.

“They were…after revenge,” you put it simply because you’re sure there’s no shortage of people your dad pissed off. “Just like you’re after revenge, that’s why—”

“Oh shut up,” she hisses and steps forward while she keeps holding your eyes with her watery gaze and pinched eyebrows. “They were from Salt Lake…right?” She asks as she begins to slowly uncover the truth you never got to share, and the truth that threatens to unveil something else you kept a secret

“Right?!” Ellie snaps, making you blink and lower your gaze to nod stiffly and hope she doesn’t probe about the other matter.

“They killed him because of what he did, right?” She asks, getting closer to that secret.

“Right,” you answer, and look at her so she doesn’t catch anything suspicious.

Nevertheless, your attempts are futile.

“And you knew what he did?” She probes as she narrows her gaze to a glowering glare. “You knew and you lied, right? That’s why you were never mad at him, and you…” she scoffs and holds her chest. “And you told me you didn’t know. You let me believe that I could trust you. Right?!” She exclaims, causing you to let out a shaky breath and nod.

“Right,” you whisper shakily before you step toward her and grab her hands to try and make her understand. “But I need you to understand that I did it for you. I was too late to stop him, I wanted to, I really did, but I was too late, so why would I mortify you even more by telling you the truth? So I kept it from you so you could have a good life. Ellie…you deserve a good life. Please—”

“You were too late,” she repeats and nods stiffly before she huffs and spats hurtful words. “It seems you’re always too late. Always too weak. That’s why Henry is dead,” she hisses quietly, making you slowly let her hands go as you're hit with disbelief.

“And that’s why Joel is dead,” she hurts you with those last words, feeling as if the knife in your heart got twisted for something you already blame yourself for. All because you tried to stop her from walking away, and all because you brought up your dad's sacrifices to have her be here.

You unknowingly opened a can of worms, and now you’re the one hurt because of it.

“I won’t sit by like you,” she spats and points her finger at you as tears finally break out of her eyes and roll down her cheeks. “I will make them pay, and I will hate you,” she sneers. “I will hate you for the rest of my life.”

She turns around swiftly and storms away, leaving you more hurt by those words than what she said before, because it feels like another great loss.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N- Seattle anyone?

Tagged- @slut-f0r-u @star-wars-lover @maplecohen @givemylovetoall @itzagothamcitysiren @sammy-13 @beloved-reblogger @emiriia @rues-daya @sunfairyy @littleshadow17 @mcu-starwars @bigtuffswordboy @riaqiax @dheet @queenofthekill @joliettes @d4rno @hardbeingcasual @rana030 @pedropascalluvr41 @ahoyyharrington @beaniebeensbaby201 @maeneedsabreak @maelartasch @adristyles @daughterofthequeen @alastorhazbin @sunsumonner @khaylin27 @hypatia93 @hummusxx @v4mpyk1tten @1donoow @your-shifting-gurl @g4ns3y @izzzzy-the-amazing @aphr0d1teh @lovelyygirl8 @ivy-taylorsversion @mmkkzz @avitute @fuckmebobboys @kitdjarin1

[wittyvitale]

Untangling the Knots (A Fluffy Castlevania Nocturne Fanfic)

Summary: During the day, Maria was flourishing in Paris, truly in her element. But nightmares plague her in the evenings, and Alucard is the only one who can hear her sobs. When the moment presents itself, Alucard asks Maria if she would like him to comb and style her hair, similar to the way her mother once did.

So Alucard braids Maria’s hair, talking about families and Belmont ancestors in the process. Season 2 spoilers.

*

Author's Note: This came about from a sleep-deprived tweet I made at 5am this week. I don't know what's going to happen in season 3, but I do love the idea of Alucard, Juste, and Maria being a found family (2 grandpas and their granddaughter.) And I've missed writing dialogue for Alucard. Hope you enjoy!

*

During the day, Maria flourished in Paris, truly in her element. She led riveting revolutionary meetings and engaged in robust debates, passionate about the direction in which the revolution was heading. Maria barely had time to think of anything else outside of her itinerary. And honestly, she was happy about that.

Evening was a different story entirely. The same nightmare took hold when Maria slept. Always about her mother. Always about the last time Maria saw Tera.

Goodbye, my darling girl.

That one line ended every one of Maria’s dreams. The voice was loud, mournful, grieving. Maria always woke up in a cold sweat, taking a few seconds to remember where she was. She would eventually realize that they were just dreams, shadows of events that had already happened. But just as quickly, Maria also remembered that her mother was gone. Upon this realization, Maria sobbed quietly into her pillow until sleep claimed her once again, trying to be as quiet as possible so she wouldn't disturb the other inhabitants of the apartment.

Having a vampiric sense of hearing, Alucard could always hear Maria’s sobs. His heart hurt for the young girl, empathizing with her pain in a way that most others could not. But he was still getting to know her and didn’t want to be overbearing. He could also discern that Maria didn’t want anybody to know that she was crying at night. He’d occasionally ask her how she was but didn’t push further, hoping that Maria would come to either him or Juste whenever she wanted to talk.

One night, Alucard walked past Maria’s bedroom. He found the teenager sitting at her vanity, combing her long golden hair. She grunted in frustration as she hit a knot. She placed the brush on the vanity and buried her face in her arms.

“Tangles, hmm?” Alucard asked, entering her room. He twisted his finger around a strand of his own hair. “I’ve been there before.”

“They never used to be this bad,” Maria answered, lifting her head up. “I think it’s because I’m wearing my hair down more than I used to. I tied it up when I lived in Machecoul.”

Just mentioning her hometown made the girl tear up. She sniffed and rubbed a quick arm across her face. Alucard stood behind her, listening patiently.

“Mum used to do my hair all the time,” Maria said thoughtfully. “It was one of our favorite things to do together, her combing my hair while we talked about our days. I’d sit on her bed and she’d comb out my tangles. She was always gentle. I don’t know how she did it, but when she hit a tangle, it never hurt, and she always got it out. Now every tangle I snag hurts.” Despite her best efforts, a few tears slid down Maria’s face. “God, look at me crying about hair. This is so stupid.”

Alucard placed a comforting hand on Maria’s shoulder. “It’s not stupid at all, Maria. This was one of the ways you bonded with your mother. One thing I’ve learned after living for so long is that the seeming mundanities of life are actually the ones that have the biggest impact. Such memories should be treasured.”

Maria appeared to think this over, but couldn’t find the words to respond. She wiped her eyes with the corner of her sleeve. Alucard looked at Maria’s hair in the mirror and smirked, an idea coming to him.

“You’re more than welcome to decline as we haven’t known each other for that long. But would you be open to me trying to get your tangle out?” he asked earnestly. Maria’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You know how to do hair?” she asked. Alucard chuckled and looked at his own locks.

“Oh yes. I have my own to take care of after all.”

Alucard thought he saw the ghost of a smile on Maria’s face. “Oh, I suppose that makes sense. I think I’d like that.”

Alucard grabbed the comb on Maria’s vanity and stood behind her. “Did your mother ever style your hair? Put it in braids, that sort of thing?”

“Sometimes. It’s been a while. But I liked it when she did.”

“Then I think I have another idea.”

*

Alucard combed Maria’s hair until the knot was out. He ran his fingernails through her locks a few times in a repetitive, comforting motion, ensuring that there weren’t any other tangles. The way Alucard combed her hair was very similar to the way Tera combed Maria’s hair; thoughtful, intentional, gentle. Maria closed her eyes, a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in a while surrounding her. Once Alucard was satisfied that all of the tangles were out, he grabbed a brush with soft bristles. He ran the brush through Maria’s hair until it cascaded smoothly down her back.

“I think a French Braid would suit you,” Alucard started, cradling some of Maria's hair in his palm. “It’s very functional for battle, not to mention very pretty. And we are in France after all.” A playful smile graced his lips at the last sentence.

“All right,” Maria answered, her trust in the dhampir’s hairstyling skills growing. “The time my mum gave me a French Braid, it was easier to move around and fight.”

Alucard hummed in response and got to work, running his fingers through Maria’s hair once again and preparing it to be braided.

“My mother braided my hair too,” Alucard started. “But it wasn’t until Trevor and Sypha’s first child was born that I started braiding other people’s hair.”

Maria raised her eyes in thought, the names sounding familiar. “Trevor and Sypha… those are Richter’s ancestors, right?”

“Yes. And the two who prevented the extinction of the Belmont line.”

Maria’s eyes shone with curiosity. “Richter mentioned them a few times when we lived together. But I’d like to hear more. Do you have any stories that didn’t make it into the history books?”

 “Oh plenty.” Alucard chuckled. “Here’s one: Trevor and Sypha’s first child was a girl, Sonia. She was very much her father’s daughter. A strong child who took the Belmont mission very seriously. But she also loved her long brown hair. She never wanted to cut it, even though it always got in her face when she was training. Oh if her parents even made the suggestion to cut it, she’d throw a fit. That was when I got the idea to braid her hair. The first time I did it, she was very happy with the result. She showed everyone in the village and her battle skills greatly improved. I braided her hair several more times throughout the course of her life. I did the same with many of the Belmont descendants.”

“Wait,” Maria started, very amused. “So you’ve basically been the Belmonts’ hairdresser for the last 300 years?”

Alucard laughed in spite of himself. “I suppose you could say that. I’ve been many things to the Belmont clan. Uncle, teacher, companion.”

“Who else’s hair did you braid?” Maria asked, interest in this part of Alucard’s history thoroughly piqued.

“Let’s see… Sonia’s son, Trevor Belmont II. We all called him “Treffy” for short. His grandfather hated when we called the child “Treffy.” That’s part of why we did it, if I’m to be quite honest. Treffy inherited his mother’s love for long hair and never wanted to cut his. There were countless others too. Marie. Eliza. Lily. Matthew. Soleil. The Belmonts have always been passionate warriors, but they also care about their physical appearances. And they were well-aware of the effects their looks had on passerby.”

Maria snickered. “That sounds so much like Richter. He could be absolutely insufferable about his appearance. When he became a teenager, he always bragged about his muscles and his ‘handsome looks’ as he called them. He would show off to all the girls, thinking he was the next Casanova.”

“Typical Belmont,” Alucard snorted. “Though it seems Annette has had quite the effect on Richter’s maturity levels. I didn’t see that same childish bravado from him before he left with her.”

“Annette’s definitely good for him. I’m glad they found each other.” Maria agreed.

“And it looks like we’re done,” Alucard said, tying the last braid. “What do you think?”

Maria turned her head back and forth in the mirror. Her mouth hung open and she beamed. “Oh I love it!” she exclaimed. She stood up and walked around her bedroom. Maria drew a circle in the air and her white tiger Byakko appeared. “It’s much easier to summon creatures now that my hair isn’t falling in my face.” she drew another circle and Byakko jumped back into the Otherworld.

Maria looked at Alucard, tears brimming in her eyes again. But this time, Alucard could tell that those weren’t the same tears he had been hearing at night. To Alucard’s surprise, Maria rushed up to him and hugged him tightly.

“Thank you, Alucard. For everything.” She said gratefully. Alucard smiled and cradled Maria’s head with his hand.

“It was my pleasure, Maria. I’m glad I could make you smile. And I’ve missed braiding hair.” He answered.

A knock was heard at the door and Juste Belmont stood in the threshold.

“Hello, you two,” he said. “Everything all right in here?”

Maria nodded vigorously. “Looked what Alucard did!” she turned her head so Juste could see her braid.

“Well, look at you,” Juste said, admiring Alucard’s handiwork. “Is that the new style the girls are wearing in Paris these days?”

“Alucard is a master of braiding,” Maria replied, unable to keep the smile off of her face. Her eyes widened again and she looked at Alucard excitedly. “Alucard! Have you ever braided Juste’s hair?”

“Has he ever done what now?” Juste asked, eyebrows raised.

A devilish grin spread across Alucard’s face, his mind moving in the same direction as Maria’s. “I haven’t. I’ve been traveling more over the last hundred years, and I saw Juste sporadically. Perhaps that’s a Belmont tradition we can restart.”

Juste looked back and forth from Alucard to Maria, growing more concerned by the second. “And what tradition is that?”

Maria pulled out the chair in front of the vanity and beckoned Juste to come over. “We can tell you all about it.”

“Err…”

“Come now, Juste. I braided Maria’s hair and look how satisfied she is. I’m sure I can do the same for you.” Alucard encouraged.

Juste couldn’t deny that this was the happiest he’d seen Maria since they had all arrived in Paris. He’d been worried about her, just as Alucard had been, and Juste wanted to keep that smile on Maria’s face for as long as possible. He sighed and stepped towards the vanity.

By the end of the night, Maria and Juste had matching French Braids.

*

End Notes: Writing this fic made me so happy. I finally got to incorporate some of my Belmont headcanons that I wasn't able to fit in my other fics!

[madametamma]

I've heard fans keep bringing up that My adventures with Superman should be 20 episodes per season instead of 10, and I think that's highlighted most in Season 2 ep 9, because this was a great episode but it could have easily been a spectacular 2 parter.

They did tackle a lot of what I was hoping they would do for the concept but it didn't have a lot of time to breath or get into it too deeply. Here's what I would have done.

First part: The story goes exactly the same until Amnesiac Lois and Kal EL meet and shake hands. They both get flashes of their real lives but it doesn't ALL come back to them all at once. It is enough for them to want to try and figure out what's going on together though.

They come up with the idea that maybe they can put Lois in Kryptonian clothes and glasses and walk around the city with most citizens thinking she's a normal Kryptonian. They get to know each other more, Kal El shows off more of what his life is like and how he feels about it and himself. Lois is supportive and they're falling in love all over again as strangers. Lois asks if it bothers him that she's not Kryptonian and he returns "Does it bother you that I am?"

"We get some "Hiding the creature from mom and dad" cliche and see more of what Kal El is like with his parents and finally, enough of their memories come back that they're almost free but Clark hesitates stating that "The real Lois wouldn't come for him." Fake parents find them and attack and we have a moment of believing that the fake parents have actually succeeded in erasing Lois until she wakes up again where she started.

Part 2: We start again from the beginning of Lois's time in the simulation and her memories are gone again. Except this time they come back to her much quicker. She's erased again and again and has her memories wiped again and again, except with each time the memory wipe is less effective and she's able to retain more.

She's still doing the live, die, repeat thing, and each time she's playing with a fuller and fuller deck.

______

Lois on the 3rd time around: "We have to wake up and go home!"

Kal El: Where's that?"

Lois: "Uh.."

-Erased

_____

Lois on the 4th time: "LISTEN TO ME! YOU'RE LOIS LANE! WAIT! NO! I'M LOIS- ONE OF US IS LOIS!"

-Erased

______

Lois on the 5th time: "You've got to come back to Ma, and Pa and, who else? What's their name, Joey? Is Joey one of them? I don't think it's Joey."

-Erased

-------

Lois on the 6th time:

Kal El: "If what you're saying is true, why would you do all this for me?"

Lois: "Uh..."

-Erased

---------

Then we finally get into the cool anime finale where they remember everything together, and beat the bad guys with the power of love.

[indigovigilance]

Saraqael isn't real

I wrote a piece on the source of energy for the 25 Lazari Plume. In it, I set aside the "holistic power of the duo" hypothesis, that @dee-morris actually provides a very compelling argument for, on the basis of something Saraqael said. Which means that, in order to accept @dee-morris's hypothesis, I have to explain why Saraqael is an unreliable source, and why no one around her seems to realize that except one demon in particular.

Let's get started.

The Hypothesis

When Aziraphale and Crowley did their body swap at the end of Season 1, it generated a lot of energy, because it is the same miracle that they perform to hide Gabriel.

Word of God has also stated that this took "Big Miracle Energy"

Why I Set it Aside

I ignored this because Neil is a lying liar and I treat him as such.

I also relied heavily on the disbelief from Saraqael that Aziraphale would be capable of casting such a miracle.

Why I Should Not Have Set it Aside

The Metatron makes a statement at the end of S2E6 about the de facto partnership between Crowley and Aziraphale. This implies that he knows about the body-swap that occurs in S1E6, since we know that Michael started surveilling them long before that. Also, a "big energy" miracle should have set off alarms in Heaven. Just because we didn't witness it doesn't mean it didn't happen, and that it didn't put all of Heaven on alert that they had collaborated in this way.

What that says about Saraqael

But Saraqael may not be a reliable source of information because she didn't exist at the time that this happened.

Who Crowley "Doesn't Remember"

(and we should not misconstrue this as "has forgotten, which we were doing)

Saraqael and Furfur are both characters introduced in Season 2 that have memories of significant events with Crowley, but Crowley doesn't remember them. There are two explanations for this.

Crowley's memory was wiped and he hasn't retrieved these particular memories.

These beings were created post-facto with false memories that Crowley doesn't have because they never actually happened.

Why doesn't anyone else notice a problem?

Everyone else acts like Furfur and Saraqael belong because they may have gained new (false/implanted) memories when these beings were created. But Crowley has more control over his memories than other beings do. He claws back memories that were lost. Who's to say that this doesn't also make him immune from receiving implanted, false memories?

Crowley's understanding of this situation

Crowley doesn't know that some beings are new constructs; he thinks he's forgotten them because of his memory loss. I infer this because he owns that he doesn't remember them; if he knew that they were constructs and that he's supposed to have implanted memories, he would probably pretend to have those memories. This might be a stretch but it's my thought on the matter.

Who Else is a Construct?

fucking Maggie that's who Please read "What's Up with Maggie?" by @iammyownproblematicfave through the lens of her being completely fake with implanted memories that are also implanted into others, like Nina. Memories that don't correspond with reality, like having been at the shop for [forty?] years and not noticing that Mr. Fell hasn't aged a day.

[shadowknightapologist]

can you elaborate on the zenix playing soccer with genes head thing. it’s actually so funny to me. does he just kick it around. does he make a goal out of sticks and kick it into the goal

wait that’d be so funny imagine a soldier (ranked lower than you) gets mad at you (a general straight from hell) and then rips your head off and starts kicking it around on the floor and launches it it into a really messy makeshift goal and then yells “goalllll” at the top of his lungs. what then

biting at the bars of my enclosure i love zenix and genes dynamic i wish there was more content about them interacting

do yuo have any hcs about them or any ideas on what you would rewrite about them

ask and you shall receive /gen 😎

they're kind of in a messy order bc i'm spewing ideas and it's a little late and i'm feeling BLEGH!! (physically) (premenstrual symptoms are god's cruelest weapon)

WARNINGS FOR: shenanigans, a little angst, body horror, burning (briefly mentioned), broken bones (briefly mentioned), gore, torture (briefly mentioned), cannibalism (briefly mentioned), decapitation.

general fings...

gene, as well as sasha and vylad, were zenix's mission escorts to kill malik. shad assigned higher ranking knights bc 1) zenix seemed volatile straight out the gate and 2) bc shad couldn't help but be reminded of his daughter due to zenix's young age so he didn't want him to get freaking boxed on his first outing.

zenix reminds gene of dante. a lot of people remind gene of dante, such is his curse, but zenix especially. for this and the aforementioned reason, gene didn't torture zenix as much and would even intercept punishments. he comes to regret this.

because of zenix's unpredictable and exceptionally turbulent nature, gene took on training him. good for zenix because it was superb training; bad for gene because zenix comes to know his style very well.

gene severely manipulated zenix's memories. zenix knows, but he doesn't care enough to try and root through what's a real memory and what's been tampered with. to him, it makes no difference.

(however, this changes because, in season 1, after zenix's attempted murder of eurydice and subsequent failure, he ends up subdued in the nether and gene once again uses his magik on him, this time changing memories with garroth... zenix can recognize gene's magik trace and it makes him so fucking angry that it pushes him to cannibalizing knights and eventually joining the rebellion.)

zenix learns spanish profanities from gene. some of them are also NOT profanities, but zenix doesn't know that.

zenix feels very little for gene. the bastard is a chaos junkie, so it doesn't really bother him who ends up wounded in the collateral as long as he's amused (the only person he is REMOTELY hesitant to hurt is garroth, and OCASSIONALY eurydice, only because he's aware of how much she means to garroth). sometimes, though, if he's left to his thoughts too long, he thinks he remembers the feeling of rough palms wiping soot and gore from his face; arms carrying him out of fire and away from smoke and laying him on soft grass, staring up at the moon.

he reckons it's just another one of gene's tricks.

(he'll never be sure, though.)

soccer

there's a handful of shadow knights who (almost) never wear their helmets—gene is among them. he claims he'd be robbing the people if he hid his face so he only wears his helm when he wants to be a dramatic fuck. this means his head is exposed nearly all the time.

now, i'm thinking that shadow knights are vulnerable to their first death. to explain via examples: sasha is EXTREMELY flammable, not only for a shadow knight but for a human; vylad's neck is very fragile and easy to snap. basically, it's non-fatal but super inconvenient.

for gene, his head comes off very easily.

not really a huge issue. when you've got a reputation like he does, people usually don't want to draw your attention, especially not by snapping your skull off your neck.

UNLESS. you're a little red-haired shithead that hates authority and loves pissing people off.

generally, because zenix is smaller and quick, he hits gene with an attack-combo and then once there's an opening (usually a stagger on gene's end), he literally roundhouse kicks him. the kick itself is enough to tear his head from his body, but it also ends up getting cut by his armor so it comes off EXTRA easy.

then it's essentially a game of keep-away. zenix is such a brat about it lmao. like he's doing all sorts of tricks, hitting gene's head off his knees and then over his shoulder and kicking it back up into the air with his heel.

(he's been bitten before.)

if other knights are present, it becomes more like hot potato—zenix kicking gene's howling head at some poor lower-ranking knight and watching them scramble while gene's towering, decapitated body staggers towards them.

when he's done playing, depending on where they are, he punts gene's head down a fortress hall or deep into a forest and then runs because gene has to prioritize getting his head back.

once, he flung the head into a lava lake, about 70% sure gene would jump in after it.

that DID NOT HAPPEN. the following process was actually disgusting and it's one of the few things that have disturbed zenix since becoming a shadow knight.

also i love the idea of him making a makeshift goal bc yes i can totally see zenix doing that during the fucking rebellion era 💀💀 laurance will beg this mfer to please take this seriously and not fuck around but zenix has already created a whole ass course to run gene's head through.

(in gene's honor, zenix does not get away with this scott-free forever. gene IS an exalted knight and that IS significant, but i still need to develop his evilness so just trust me when i say zenix isn't having a great time.)

i hope this was amusing 🙏

[sonkitty]

I'm trying to clean up a lot of my files for Good Omens 2 since I'm restless and lacking focus at the moment.

So, I found a much, much older draft of sideburns notes when I was exploring the puzzle. If you're not familiar with my theories, I have come to the conclusion, with a great deal of confidence, that the sideburns are determined by how a given space reads Crowley (The Sideburns Scheme).

Getting back to this draft of notes, along the way, here's the closest I got in some notes I was listing out for possibilities:

4. Crowley is doing it on purpose. They are like breadcrumbs to himself of what was going on or who was around as he replays what happened to him during the entire season. It is not based on mood. He can sort of pull in a reflection of how he is remembered. By that, I mean Jim/Gabriel knew Crowley as an angel (theoretically), so Jim/Gabriel's memory reflects that version of Crowley.

I wanted to share it given the later value I found in reflections themselves with other parts of the puzzles, such as The Window Trick and the Tied Hands.

I don't quite look at it with that wording anymore, but I like to look back on it.

...

In a completely different draft I'm remembering right now, here's another approach I've never shared:

(5) Somehow, the angel with the memory wipe is like his ward. That's why they show up around Gabriel and later Muriel. As a likely former first order archangel, they are under his protection or rank or whatever. They are his charge or he is in charge, however you want to see it. That's why he can tell Gabriel to jump out a window, and Gabriel will do it without question. That's why he can kick Muriel out of the bookshop. I mean, sure, they could just trust or believe him, but when I lay out all of the above...I'm just...shaken, I guess. I think I figured it out, and it might also be why he says, "I think I understand a whole lot better than you do". He's already stuck in a position like that in the bookshop!

I don't really approach the puzzle with this "ward" idea anymore either, but again, I like to look back on the idea. I think the main reason I dropped it is because Crowley intentionally lengthens his sideburns to longest-length at the end of episode 6. Gabriel is gone, and Muriel's not on screen as further clues that the longest-length is from Crowley in particular, given how precise he is in his position with the car.

...

I really like seeing the progression of my play because I never really believed I would solve the puzzle, let alone find a game comprised of multiple solvable puzzles. It was mainly an excuse to direct my obsessive energy with how much I love David Tennant as Crowley.

[mobius-m-mobius]

Thank you so much for replying to my anon ask! And please don't apologize for your long reply. I LOVE IT!

Sylvie has every right to build and explore the kind of love she wants, but I think she lacks self-awareness in her "call-out" of Mobius, which is why Loki calls /her/ out in the next scene, reminding her that the only reason she's at the TVA is because she couldn't kill Victor, not because she actually wanted to /help/.

I sent an ask to @bebx that I hope you don't mind that I copy/paste here, because that blow up about pie sets up Mobius narratively in the next 2 episodes.

Let's talk about the TVA seal. If Loki was the original founder of the TVA before HWR takes over and performs a memory-wipe, the dagger represents Loki, the hourglass/Mobius strip represents Mobius, the shield looks like it might actually be a mask, which can represent Sylvie, who has a gift for enchantments. All 3 of them need to be on the same page to succeed.

Speaking of Sylvie, a word on the pie scene: from a plot perspective, this was Mobius's lowest point. He must feel worthless and good for nothing. This is actually critical for c when Loki finds him: I think Mobius might decline going back, not necessarily because his life before TVA was any better, but because he will likely think he will cause more harm then good, and that the only thing he's good at is selling jet skis, which can't possibly harm anyone.

Loki, because he didn't say anything during the confrontation with Sylvie, will be compelled to tell him that's absolutely not true. Loki will tell Mobius that his kindness and his believing in him changed everything. Perhaps, if we're lucky, we'll get some kind of love confession. Loki might say he can't save the timeline alone and he /wants/ Mobius at his side. Thus, Loki believing in Mobius causes Mobius to believe in Loki. When his memories get wiped in the future by HWR, his love Loki (romantic or platonic) will be an echo of his love for jet skis. He won't remember why he loves Loki, he just knows he dies because he did before. Thus closing the loop and fulfilling the snake eating its own tail. Who saved who?

Lastly, For All Time, Always had been presented as an ominous slogan. I believe this is actually a pact Loki, Mobius and Sylvie make among themselves to protect all timelines and free will. When HWR invades the TVA and perfoms the memory wipe, the slogan becomes perverse. I bet the pruning sticks, magic dampeners, collars, and torture devices were brought into the TVA by him. He is an inventor, after all.

Also, in rebuilding the TVA's facilities (which will take some powerful magic, magic that would create a place that would impress a post-NY Loki), Mobius might request Loki and Sylvie for a pie automat and hot chocolate dispenser. Because stress. Sylvie might use her magic to grant his wish as a peace offering.

Oh hi! Lovely to meet you and of course, such a pleasure to read and reply to 😊

Really wish there was more thought put into Sylvie's direction this season because at this rate there hasn't been any depth into the time she's been spending at the McDonald's branch which she seemed to be enjoying building a routine at, in comparison to suddenly going back to trying to chase He Who Remains variants while constantly telling everyone at the TVA they're dragging her back in while *she's* following them around?

Her not knowing what to do with herself makes sense considering her life had been dedicated to revenge until now but I just can't connect in any way when her one firm goal has been protecting all timelines enough to give the people there chances to live full lives and no matter the terrible history she has with the TVA, they're the only entity capable of ensuring that. Would never expect her to like the place or anyone there but they've already proven they're now working to preserve and she has no other plan to offer than burning everything to the ground which isn't an option while the loom's at such a critical level so her repeatedly ignoring what's right in front of her is feeling more than a little pointless.

(here we go again haha, adding a read more for everyone's sake!)

Don't mind at all and completely agree about the narrative being set specifically to explore the mindset Mobius has been in all season as well as his perspective on finding out his past. Still debating on whether he has any awareness of the TVA when we see him again and am leaning heavily toward him being the original version of himself with no knowledge of Loki or anything else that's happened so I'd love to see how Loki convinces him or if there's any kind of inherent connection or understanding lingering between them anyway?? But if he does have access to his memories I really do think he'd want to take a step back after watching Loki go after Sylvie after the pie situation.

Which would therefore lead to Loki going into detail about the conversation he had with Sylvie defending Mobius and all he's done for not just everyone on the branches but himself as well and I really do think there's going to be a mutual confession regarding how they've changed each other for the better whether it's during the process of Loki getting Mobius' memories back or afterwards when they're (hopefully) fully back to the versions we've gotten to know and love.

I noticed the detail of the TVA seal when it got cracked and couldn't believe it didn't hit me earlier, lol! A dagger and a Möbius strip, how poetic 🥺 As for the third member making up the timekeepers I'm open to however it goes but can't help rooting for B-15 to have the position simply because she's such a strong person with true faith in what the TVA and be and accomplish and I think she's earned the spot but I could see Sylvie reluctantly coming around to the goals of a reformed TVA enough to lend her magic to certain elements of the design and do like to think every Loki can't help but have a soft spot for every Mobius so you may very well be right as to how so many sweets ended up in the TVA 😂

Still confusing me is how and when exactly HWR eventually enters the picture and takes control, and where Loki or Sylvie are at that point since Mobius, B-15, and Casey have clearly still been working there but think you're absolutely right about HWR having invented and introduced the more dangerous and controlling elements of the place.

Finally I just have to say I think we'll absolutely get a "For All Time, Always" exchanged between Loki and Mobius right before the series ends and you have no idea how here for it I am, really just want the two of them accepting how much good they can do at the TVA and when they're together so can't wait to see where the series eventually takes us!

[musingsofmaisie]

The Magic Trick You Didn't See

@ariaste I just finished reading your analysis. Interesting. Not sure I'm completely on board with your primary hypothesis, but you raise some very interesting points. Kudos for doing it.

Link to @ariaste piece here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/edit

I do have a few places where my thinking diverges from yours though.

First, on Aziraphale and Angel now-Crowley's meeting in Before the Beginning: I think the primary purpose of this scene was to establish that Crowley still possesses a Tool of Creation (that in S1 we assumed was merely a part of his exploded Bentley) and that this will be important in the denouement. He KISSES it, for goodness' sake. That, and of course that Angel now-Crowley was a joyful and precious innocent who didn't deserve his fate.

Go back to S1E5 when he mentions Alpha Centauri and "I worked on that." We are also given the distinct impression that Crowley was an angel of considerable rank and power. Seeing Crowley in Heaven with Muriel and the way he was treated by the leadership-can I get a "deferentially" here?-is a setup for the reveal of his identity. There are files! Aziraphale can request them! Aziraphale finding out the truth is to me the macguffin that will 1) make him realize that heaven is not the place of "truth, light and good" and 2) catalyze whatever action that brings the tale to its conclusion.

When Crowley interrogates Jim-the "It hurts!" "I KNOW! Do it anyway!" and "Yeah, like the places where the furniture used to be" both strongly indicated to me that Crowley was speaking from experience-that he had had his memory wiped when he Fell-and has recovered some, but not all of it. Hence the offer of a hot chocolate. Empathy. (I think this what he meant by "Ask him properly.")

Later, when he tries to explain Gravity to Jim, I got the feeling that that was one of the places where the furniture used to be. (And also not remembering Saraquiel and Furfur).

Second, in the story of Job, it's being told directly from Aziraphale's point of view, that's why I assumed, in his recollection, that Crowley Bildad the Shuhite was wearing cool shades. And this is also where Aziraphale makes reference that he knew the angel Crowley used to be. Before the Garden of Eden. And Crowley says "the angel you knew is not me". Rather harshly, I thought.

Currently rereading "the Crow Road" and annotating it. There do seem to be some compelling parallels so far. Makes me wonder when Muriel will get to Aziraphale's journals. Like you, I suspect that's where we're going next. I can't figure out the timeline, though. It seems like the next scene has to take place many years from now.

This is getting too long so I'll wrap up by saying that I'm convinced that NG would not foist on us a plot device that wraps up S3 like Bobby "It was all a dream" Ewing from the last season of Dallas. It would be a violation of his own writing ethos and his commitment to doing something that would make Terry proud. The Metatron is literally a Deus ex Machina, but I don't think that NG would rely solely on him-or that technique-to conclude the story.

We all want our heroes to get their happy ending. But knowing Neil's knack for the twist in the storyline, I' don't think I'm not sure that it will look like what we think it will.

Cheers,

Maisie

[kelkilou]

Hi!!! I adore your TMNT stuff!! It’s so well drawn and nicely detailed!!! 😁 I bought some of your merch on your shop and I’m so stoked for them!!!

My question is, how long have you been into the TMNT? And if you had a favorite/ least favorite character, who would you pick?

Thank you and have a great day!! 😁

Aaaah thank you so much!! That's so kind of you ;o; I will get them to you asap, I hope you enjoy them! ❤ Oh man, my history with TMNT is honestly very hazy - It feels like one day I was just..*into it* y'know? XD So get ready for a ramble... But my earliest memories of it are when the 2003 show was airing - very scattered mind you - in the UK, I don't think I really caught it on tv until around season 4 so I had no clue what was happening - then after that they just showed the final 2 seasons on repeat seemingly for years. ToT) Even then I still fell in love with the characters and crushed HARD on Donatello. And vaguely concieved my OC, Vye. This was probably around 2007-8? Not really sure, I just remember being in High school and that's it? But I revisited the show and watched it properly from start to finish maybe around 2010-11 and just fell completely in love with it. Fell out of it again as I do with fandoms, and then during Covid I fell right back in again - BIG TIME. As for favourite/least fave characters...oh man, that's so tough!! Donatello is still probably my ultimate fave, but how I feel about the characters often fluctuates because they're all so loveable and I enjoy them for many differing reasons! Least fave...uh...Garbageman?

Like seriously, just wipe your mouth dude.

Fun fact though: When I first got into TMNT, since I only saw Season 4, with 0 context, my least fave was actually Leo! I hated him so much pfff XD (Obviously now I have full context I feel totally different and he is my best sword boi.)

I hope you have a great day too! (Sorry for the ramble, I can gush about these things til the cows come home aaah)

[mischief-lies-and-stories]

Loki Series Theories 7/? (We're Back, Y'all)

You are reading this on Monday (or some other day after that), but I'm writing this less than 24 hours after the premiere of Loki season 2. It took me less than 24 hours to come up with a theory. I have a problem. Let's crack into it.

Theory: OB Knows ALL.

This just started as a fun little stream of consciousness theory that OB is such a cool character. He seems to only really disclose things if he's asked directly about it.

So the original theory was that he's asked to fix one of the devices that wipes/rewrites people's memories in the TVA. He's never been asked to fix one of them before, so he's curious about what it is and how it works and that's how he figures out the TVA wipes people's memories. So he reverse engineers it (I think that's the term) and builds a machine that restores his memories. He discovers he's a variant, and maybe remembers other moments in his time with the TVA, or maybe because he spends all of his time in the basement, he generally gets forgotten about when other people in the TVA get their memories wiped. So he never or almost never had his memory wiped aside from the initial abduction from the timeline.

He enjoys what he does in the TVA (and maybe his backstory isn't all that great), so he doesn't have a really negative reaction to finding out he's a variant. And it never comes up in conversation with anyone else, so he just doesn't think it's relevant and doesn't tell anyone what he's discovered. So he gets to go on remembering and everyone else goes on forgetting. (And I want to make clear that I don't think this is malicious on his part. I just don't think it occurs to him to tell anyone. Or he assumes everyone has figured it out or rationalizes it in some other way.)

I thought this was just a fun thought to go along with my other headcanons about OB as a character, but then I was rewatching the episode and I realized that Loki interacts with Mobius, Casey, and B-15 in their pasts (as well as a number of other unnamed characters, and maybe Sylvie, but I think she's a plant from the future). But they don't remember they have these interactions with him when he time-slips back into the present. But then there's the whole exchange with OB where he does. And OB also mentions he remembers Mobius coming to see him once, but Mobius doesn't remember that. It's possible that in the future Mobius somehow time travels in the TVA and visits him (or OB is lying, but he seems pretty genuine here), but I think it's more likely a past Mobius visited OB and then had his memory wiped.

So if nothing else, I think we're going to find out that OB has never had his memory wiped beyond the initial abduction. Given his role in the TVA and how technologically intelligent he is, I think it's entirely possible he got his hands on a device that reversed his memory loss and restored his past on the timeline years ago. If this is treated as a bombshell plot twist at some point, I'm going to laugh uproariously.

Also, if Casey has no idea what a fish is, how does OB know what spaghetti is? He doesn't have time to sleep, why would he ever have time to go the break room to eat?

[rzdhc]

Posted it to the wrong blog, oops lmao

..

Hello!!! Thank you so much for the ask!!! I actually got two of these so I'll just answer this one! All links included must need an ao3 account to view it.

..

Right now, my favorite fic I've written (that's public) of all time has GOT to be

1. Where the river turns to streams ao3

Despite it being a ship fic of a lesser known pairing (Rosinante x Sakazuki) in one piece, I'm just in love with this story. Both the character development and relationship development between both Rosinante and Sakazuki has me rereading my own story. They're both side characters so in canon, they don't have much development, and this story slightly touches upon it, giving some depth into them. And it also touches upon a heated canon event that one of the characters had to partake it that makes them hated in the fandom without straight up removing their role in, and adds to the development of Rosinante in this story.

It's a lengthy one too, 13k words exactly!

2. In Life's Canon Universe ao3

This story is another favorite of mine because of all the ANGST, but also ends happily (kind of for one of them), which I like (I like crying my eyes out AND knowing it will be fine in the end, it's a weak spot of mine). It's a ship fic of Rosinante x Katakuri. Also another long one, but this is split into different chapters. (~17k+ words)

3. Time and Time Again ao3

Another ship fic, this time for Neal Caffrey and Matthew Keller from white collar. It's another favorite of mine because it's a story between two intelligent characters, one a criminal and other almost criminal. Each of the characters have a distinct way of talking and I personally think they mesh so well. Canon, Matthew Keller is a criminal too, but in this au, he isn't and the story also deals with the way his life and family would've been like if he hadn't been a criminal. It's a lesser popular pairing in the White Collar fandom but I wrote it awhile ago and I still love the way these two interacted in my story.

4. A Rundown of Impel Down Escapee ao3

I like this one because it's vastly different than every other story I've written. It's the first crack story I've written, and it's more of a not fic than anything. But it was fun to write and kind of just let go rigid guidelines I set for myself.

5. Wake Up ao3

This one is a bit controversial because it's an hermitcraft ship fic between Rendog and Docm77 (minecraft personas only), and while I don't ship mcyt people anymore, I'm still proud of the way this came out. It handles a very serious topic involving memory loss and fake memories. While the main premise of the story involves each world aka season, everyone's memories are wiped but this time, Rendog's memories aren't wiped. So the story deals with the aftermath of essentially losing everyone (everyone was forced into permanent sleep) and everyone suddenly being brought back only for no one to remember what happened. So Rendog has to deal with everyone believing he's gone crazy and has to battle whether or not what he's remembering is real or if everyone is right about him. But eventually, he finds comfort in the only person that believes, regardless of what's true or not, doc. There's just so much angst and hurt/comfort. And while it is a ship fic, romance takes a back seat to what rendog is feeling, and includes friendships and people making the wrong choices even IF they may have the best intentions.

The idea of this story is so good too, I'm in love with it, even IF I may not a shipper in that sense anymore. I was originally going to convert it to a platonic story so I could continue it with a prequel and sequel, but I wasn't able to find a way to do it.

It's another long one, ~19k words.

..

Thank you again for sending this ask in!! It was fun to reflect on past stories.

[merlions]

I genuinely need to make a side blog for fan related things to keep this space decluttered cause I have done that w separate ones per fan thing in the past but abandoned them all to the annals of time. But my brain is totally detonated today from Symptoms Disorder and Problems Disease and I just chugged good omens season 2 and then a huge amount of Internet and Opinions relating to it so I'm read more ing a whole bunch of thoughts I cannot get out of my befogged brain. About the Situations

No but I mean like I Just Think.

Crowley's "I can't ever be forgiven" in s1 and aziraphale thinking his bitterness is because he actually does want to be forgiven.

And then aziraphale in s2, trying to tell him, "[I love you! I love you too! I want you to come with me, and be happy again. And since the power has literally just been given to me to do so, officially,] I forgive you. [You are forgiven, you don't have to be an outcast anymore! Don't you want this gift I'm trying to give you?]" [And maybe - "But we can't have a physical relationship in heaven, why are you trying to change our relationship after all this time and ruin this salvation we've been offered?"]

Also it has been driving me kinda crazy but -

I think it was so easy for Gabriel to be fine with being with beelzebub and cast down to hell cause like Crowley says, the sides are both trying to do the same thing. Like whether it's the demons killing people or the angels letting them, or war that sterilizes the earth from both sides, they don't care about people, they literally only care about the rules. So Gabriel being in hell means almost nothing to him; same shit, different master. No risk.

Aziraphale and Crowley don't feel safe getting caught cause if they do what they believe in, BOTH sides will be angry at them, theres no way to keep being good to people if they're caught. They're on the side of PEOPLE. And it sucks that Az is so convinced heaven is better, but also it's true that if he fell, he would have to listen to new rules he didn't know how to safely break yet; he would be kept under a close eye and forced to do things he didn't believe in or risk being erased from existence; and *there's a nonzero chance they'd take his memories too and he wouldn't even know Crowley or remember their 6000 year past.*

Crowley, as many have said, is not totally right either. They also can't leave everything behind like gabriel and beelzebub, cause ultimately crowley and aziraphale will never be happy just letting the powers that be torch the earth. The rest of the universe's destruction comes next, anyways, per the s2 opening; they won't even stay safe for long if they run, more than likely!

And in Az's defense, both of them going to hell as kinda underlings, if Az's cast from grace, is a very different situation than HIM being allowed DIRECTLY to appoint Crowley as an angel, be in control enough to know no one can wipe his memories during the process, and be given (what he thinks is) SO much control over what heaven does; to try to fix it from the inside cause there's literally nothing else he can see that will ACTUALLY let them live, together and free.

He just doesn't understand at first that becoming an angel is not an option for Crowley; that becoming an angel again, even as a simple strategy for safety, would fundamentally and irrevocably change who he is as a person, to the very core.

I don't think aziraphale is actually making any decision to reject crowley's confession, even with the "I forgive you". He's just overwhelmed with so much, so fast, that his reaction and processing time slows to an absolute crawl. I think he literally doesn't even really get what Crowley is saying, and isn't able to fully communicate what he means - that "I forgive you" to him means "we're saying the same thing, that we want to stay together and I, on behalf of heaven, officially forgive you, so you can stay with me."

I think he's scrambling, just crazy scrambling, trying to figure all of this out, through the elevator ride - the soft grin, then not, then frowning, back to soft grin, and repeat on loop - is him processing the fuckin rollercoaster of emotional turbulence, from utter relief of being given what he thinks is FINALLY a way for him and Crowley to live and be safe, and the utterly terrible breakup and rejection of his plan for them to be safe, and the utterly incredible revelation of crowley's feelings (and maybe his own?).

Like there are two most likely options for what that final, jubilant smile means, in my personal onion.

1. He drank the [coffee] Kool aid. He is baffled and hurt that Crowley abandoned him in this moment of triumph but it's just a symptom of Crowley poisoning him against heaven all these years with temptations and he is clear and finally realized his purpose: he will be the fuckin major general overlord over the armies of heaven, leading them to final victory against evil. Crowley will probs have to Fix him during s3 again, possibly to stop him from ending the world. yikes boy

Or, imo more likely,

2. He finally processed everything that happened, including that Crowley was confessing love, the kiss, all the shit that went down. And he's finally clear and realized his purpose: gonna tear that shit ALL the way apart. Crowley can be mad for a while, but he can trust Crowley to still be around when he comes back and to forgive him. But Az's gonna have to play the long con to make this work. And he'll have to do it solo, but by the end there won't be any power in the universe that can keep the two of them from spending eternity together, safe, humans safe again.

(A joking 3. He's like "oh ok wait. Theres no way Jesus won't be like hells of down to get me back with Crowley and defend us against this bs. That gay ass? That human lover? Please. Metatron doesn't know WHATS about to hit him")

And the last thought I wanna add here is the book shop thing, right at the end.

Aziraphale's "nothing lasts forever" means, in that moment, "I would rather lose the book shop than lose you."

He then realizes Crowley isn't coming with him, so to try to delay all this shit happening with Metatron, give himself more time to process, he uses it to try to stay with crowley without attracting too much attention: "but what about my book shop?"

I can't see any other real reason for that flip-flop, especially when the book shop is SUCH a recurring thing. Like not to be up star treks assed hole forever and always but I keep thinking of things that parallel the whole az/Crowley situation and especially I wanna reference here Jimothy "In this universe i love literally nothing more than the USS star ship enterprise" Kirk. Blowing up the USS star ship enterprise to be back with Spock. "His soul is my responsibility. [...] As surely as if it were my very own."

Feels to me exactly like the book shop for aziraphale. In both cases: "I would never ever do anything ever to lose this Home of mine, the representation of everything important to me in this universe. Unless it means losing you."

Anywayssss

[rebelrayne]

[⭐] = faves | Hamish is listed under Season 6

take a risk | henrik | teen | alternate universe [a gift for @/justtuesdays]

Isabel Romero had never taken a single risk in her entire life. But when she finds an incomplete bucket list, she's determined to prove that she can be adventurous and spontaneous. With the help of her best friends, Shannon and Henrik, she's ready to cross off the last three items, come castle or behind a waterfall.

we do but friends don't | bobby | teen | villa

“I don’t want to do this,” Jordyn said, her voice cracking with every syllable. She’d grown to be fond of all four of the people standing there, although she was most definitely closer with Lottie, Gary and Bobby. Truth be told, she liked the old Hannah better than the one standing in front of her. Hannah seemed less than genuine when she returned and it only angered Jordyn to see her with Bobby when he deserved the world.

[⭐] but lately... | seb | teen | villa

Seb isn't overly emotional. He's not a sticky sweet guy who loves a big romantic gesture, or someone who would pick up a bouquet of roses on the way home. But lately... There's something about Valerie.

ho ho ho or whatever | seb | teen | alternate universe [a gift for @/whatisreggieshortfor]

Inside the bustling, busy city of Liverpool, there comes a tale you certainly never learned in school. A record store sits on Paul Street in the heart of the town, and here, my dear reader, is where the start of our story is found. Ask any of the townsfolk, they’ll tell you the same: “There’s no place like home by the fire on Christmas Day!” All the windows of the stores are flocked with care, but there sat one store with its window display bare.

[⭐] 11:59 pm | tom | teen | post-villa [a gift for @/0shewrites0]

He starts to walk over, his heart rate racing faster with every step closer. He pulls his phone out and peeks at the time. 11:59 pm. It’s almost time. He had a speech prepared, but it’s since been wiped from his memory. He cannot remember even one syllable of that speech.

hey sweetheart | oliver | teen | post-villa [a gift for @/queen-of-boops]

When Oliver sends Maeve on a scavenger hunt on her birthday, she's led by familiar faces and letters Oliver wrote to his future wife.

model santa | youcef | teen | alternate universe [a gift for @/whatisreggieshortfor]

Santa isn't real, right? But if that's the case, why is he claiming to be Youcef's father?

part of our world | tom | teen | alternate (disney) universe

The town of Villa Rosa, North Carolina seems like a normal place. The people live ordinary lives, the kids go to school like anywhere else, but the truth? It’s the most evil, vile place in the world. The Disney characters were ripped from their stories and sent to the one place where they no longer had their happy endings: our world.

someone better suited | dylan | teen | villa/post-villa

Dallas Holt is down on his luck but when he has the opportunity to enter the Love Island Villa in exchange for $20,000? He’d be stupid not to take it. The only catch? He’s not entering as himself; he’s entering as “Dylan.”

sterling mckenzie, inc. | valentina | teen | alternate universe

Welcome to Sterling McKenzie, Inc. Paper Company, where career dreams go to die! But at least the boss is cool, right?

the other side | james | teen | alternate universe

Was it really happening? He had to have been dreaming. He wasn’t big, rugged and buff like Hazeem. He couldn’t be cool and collected like Kobi. He’d never be as handsome as Dylan. There’s no way he could ever be charming or suave like Youcef… He was just… him?

define: falling | hamish | mature | alternate universe [a gift for thesepromises]

falling /ˈfôliNG/ verb 1 : to descend freely by the force of gravity. 2 : to come by chance. 3 : to pass suddenly and passively into a state of body or mind. Serena Wallace hates Hamish Kent… Or maybe she’s falling in love with him.

end game | elliot | mature | villa [a gift for @/mrsbsmooth]

For those of you following along at home, this is the part of the story where the female love interest rejects the male protagonist so harshly, he should recoil and retire to a life of loneliness and solitude. But lucky for us… Elliot is two things: one, he can’t take a hint when slapped in the face with it, and two, he hates to lose when he doesn’t understand what went wrong.

[⭐] fast car | hamish| teen | villa [finale night rewrite]

Acacia had the opportunity through his television screen to make him fall harder and harder without lifting a finger. He watched her look across the lawn and twist her face into the most hideous expressions– nose scrunched, tongue poked out, eyes crossed– but Andy didn’t laugh. The time she ran onto the challenge platform and did a clumsy cartwheel only to fall flat on her bum as she fell into a fit of giggles– Andy didn’t laugh. How she would create a different facial expression on pancakes every morning, hoping for even a faint tug at his lips– Andy didn’t laugh... But Hamish did.

[⭐] holidate | hamish | mature | alternate universe [a gift for @/caitkaminski]

When Cece Singh gets the idea from her Aunt Priya to bring a Holidate to all of their holidays, she knows just the right guy for the job. The only rules? 1) You'll be one another's plus one as long as you're single. 2) Leave no Holidate behind. 3) No catching feelings.

let's play | elliot | mature | alternate universe [a gift for @/whatisreggieshortfor]

Elliot lifts his head slowly, his Adam's apple bobbing as if he was swallowing every inch of his fears. Flipping a switch, his expression quickly turns mischievous – a crooked smirk she’s never seen on his face and that bloody dimple on the left that she’s always wanted to press her lips to. “Well, I’m not one to back out of a game.” His voice is smooth as velvet, another first in hearing his tone sound so alluring. He quirks a brow, hand cupping her face as he leans in close enough for his scent to surround her in a dizziness that could only be cured by his lips on hers. “I do quite like to win, as long as you want to play?”

sinderella | hamish | explicit | alternate universe

He tugs her into the cloakroom, quickly pressing her back to the closed door. His fingertips delicately trace her jawline as his lips pull into a wicked smile. It should be a crime how intoxicating the scent of lemon and bergamot is on his skin. Leaning in, he dips his head, kissing her neck and sending a shiver down her spine. Greedy hands grip into her waist and yank her into him as he whispers into her ear, “So does Cinderella have a name?”

[⭐️] the checklist | ivy | mature | post-villa

When Ivy gets dumped from Love Island, Nicky and Seb invite her on Doom & Gloom to explain her checklist and where each of the criteria came from.