#If we were FORCED to go through a Clear Sky Redemption I wish so badly that he lost his power

[bonebabbles]

im curious, do you think there is any good way to portray a redemption by death? like, can a character truly be made a better person by dying? or is it just an all-around bad trope? i vaguely saw what the authors were trying to do with tom and sandgorse's situations, but they just sucked too bad and gave it the absolute wrong effect imo

I think there's a way to make anything work! So I won't say "NO NEVER." But personally, I have a big bone to pick with it so I avoid it

A redemption death doesn't give the character time to meaningfully change, imo, or truly make up for their actions. That all has to come before the death itself. And even the very idea of giving your life up to "redeem yourself" just... sits uncomfortably with me.

Dying never makes a person better. It just kills them. A person who's dead is not changing nor growing.

So Tom and Sandgorse... what their deaths are supposed to do is re-frame everything they did before that point. With no apology on Sandgorse's end for how badly he hurt his son or wasn't there for his mate, he was a good enough person to die for someone else and thus must be forgiven. Tom thrashes two women and they both die because of him, but he was still willing to heroically throw his life down for his child, and so he is 'worthy' of being avenged and honored.

No growth. No change. No acknowledgement. The death is supposed to add sympathy to them, while there's no actual reckoning of how they hurt their victims. Not even a real consequence. "Their intentions were good, and this is proven through the ultimate sacrifice." As if that changes anything. It doesn't.

I think if there's an decent example of a redemption death in warriors, it's Bluestar's. I still have problems with how it believes Stone and Misty have to "forgive her" for some reason, REALLY don't like the fact that this series has always equated redemption and forgiveness... but that aside? Just focusing on Firestar, ThunderClan, and Bluestar?

I think what makes the moment so strong is that it is a moment of clarity through her cruelty arc. We saw the heroic person she was at the start of TPB. We know that her actions are coming from anger, spite, and paranoia. That is never shown as a thing to be excused. But while she's wrapped up in her own misery, Fireheart is being the leader she isn't.

And her last life is a return to form, spending it the way she is supposed to, as a leader, and as his mentor.

Her arc could never be about 'growth' because... she WAS a great leader. She WAS selfless, long ago. Her redemption death is a return to that, and a plot necessity. Bluestar and Firestar cannot both exist.

But, anyway, it's generally a trope I'm not fond of. I think that nearly anything can work in the right context, but I think it's so situational that I personally avoid it when possible.

[toomuchponytail]

Hello, big fan!! Could you do something friendly-fire flavored? >:3 Thank you!! Keep writing, you beautiful unicorn!!!

Hey Anon! (sorry I’m late! sorry this took so long, I am an excuse of a human! ) First of all, thank you, but I am barely a horse–let alone a unicorn. (Also: “NO YOU!! ;) )  But thank you so much for this prompt! It’s such a good one that I had trouble choosing the setting, so many possibilities! So if you don’t favor this one I totally understand and can offer others of unfortunately similar quality…

But oh my goodness, thank you again! I honestly don’t deserve you, and I will prove it with the exorbitant amount of garbage I have spewed forth. 

I hope you have a day like a ginger bread cookie, sweet with just a hint of spice and bitterness that makes the sweet that much more enjoyable. I hope today is full of zest–both orange and otherwise, may you take small treats as they are offered, and use the good to weather the bad. 

Love a goblin who doesn’t own a calendar. 

“He could have killed you,” Sidekick breathes, they are tired and mournful in the cold morning light, they hand hero their mask, rust colored stains and all, they can’t bear to look at it, they make a point of looking out the window as hero takes it from them, their warm hand brushing sidekick’s ice cold one. 

“But he didn’t,” Hero grinned, they took hold of sidekick’s trembling fingers and don’t let go until sidekick looked back at them again, they don’t look as bad as sidekick was expecting them to after last night, after the building had collapsed with them inside. They were still bruised and pale, their left arm in a sling, the medic had said that three of their ribs were broken–they’d also told hero to stay in bed, but here they were coffee in hand asking sidekick where their mask had gone in the scramble to save them. 

“I’ll kill them,” Sidekick murmured, going back to looking out the window again, the sky blushed a soft golden peach color that melted into violet at the edges, the sun would be above the ridge in a few minutes, starting a day sidekick wasn’t ready for, not this time. 

“Sidekick,” hero started, wincing as he twisted a little too far, the pang of sympathy the sidekick felt only solidified in their mind what they had to do, for the city, for hero, so that they could sleep at night again even if it was in a prison cell. 

“I know that you don’t want to talk too much about your time as Villain’s sidekick, and I respect that choice, but like I said when we agreed to be partners,” hero took a sip of their coffee, “We do things differently than them, I don’t expect–or even allow you to kill, it’s too final, everyone deserves a chance at redemption, maybe even multiple chances.” 

Normally sidekick would try to take hero’s words to heart, they were still learning how to be a good person after so many years with Villain, but today the words just grated on their panic frayed nerves, “And when do those chances run out hero?” They hear themselves ask, hero looks up in surprise at their biting tone, “When the city is in rubble around their feet? When they’ve killed enough innocents to warrant the death penalty? When you’re dead?!” Sidekick’s voice broke at the end of their sentence, they stuttered and apology and left the kitchen, their throat burning with every venom fueled question they’d asked. Those were Villain’s morals, passing judgement on others, kill or be killed, and it filled sidekick with rage to realize that they were still carrying Villain’s ideology around with them like a demon on their shoulder. 

After a few hours blowing off steam by training alone in the basement of the base, sidekick’s mind was made up, sure it wasn’t hero’s way, but they had to do something. They had to be rid of Villain once and for all, it didn’t matter what came after, knowing hero was safe–would never look so frail and helpless as they had last night again–was enough peace of mind for sidekick. 

If they had to live by Villain’s rules then that sorry excuse for a life would die because of them. 

Sidekick carefully concealed a pistol the next time they were called out on a mission, the worst part was lying to hero, smiling at them and forcing themselves to be normal with hero sitting across from them feeling the cold barrel of the gun against their leg was maybe the worst sort of betrayal they felt like they’d ever committed. And they were on their way to murder their old friend and former partner. 

The battle started out innocently enough, Villain had been spotted out in the densely forested oak grove, it was a big place, long suspected of concealing Villain’s home base. The Villain had stayed concealed in the dark, thick mist rising as the sun went down. Sidekick felt nearly sick waiting for their chance to kill them, it had to be times just right or hero would stop them–and they couldn’t allow that to happen. 

Hours into their mission, Villain had run them raggedly through the forest, seeming to vanish into mist every time they got close to catching them, three times Sidekick had pulled their gun free in the darkness, and three times they’d had to hastily conceal it again as Villain slipped away. Hero was lagging now, their gasping breaths making clouds of steam in the cooling air, their hair was stuck to their head with sweat. 

“They’re just running us!” Hero exclaimed, unconsciously holding the side with the broken ribs, “At this point I’m thinking about calling it,” Hero chuckled easily, but Sidekick glanced at them, their whole body radiating nervous energy,  they couldn’t go back without achieving their secret goal, the stress of the decision had already eaten away all of their sleep, they had gone beyond twitchy and on edge, their nerves were shot with the waiting, they couldn’t possibly wait another day to ensure hero’s safety. 

They just couldn’t take it. 

“I’ll go on,” they said finally, putting what they hoped was a reassuring hand on hero’s shoulder, “I don’t want this bastard to think that they tired us out.” 

“Even if it’s true?”  Humor glinting in their tired eyes, sidekick wanted to strangle medic for allowing hero back onto the field so soon after their near-death experience, but they also knew that they really couldn’t blame them, the hero would be out here no matter what the medic said. 

“I’ll go,” Sidekick repeated, “I’ll go and get them,” If Sidekick gave away any of the odd hollowness they felt eating away at them hero didn’t seem to notice. 

They just nodded, still breathing hard, “Just be careful okay?” 

Sidekick has the decency to nod at hero’s concern, feeling a wave of fondness wash over them for hero, they hadn’t had to accept them after their work with Villain, they could have locked them up and thrown away the key and no one would have blamed them–least of all sidekick–but they didn’t, they’d seen the want to try in them, the wish to be something better than a killer. And instead of judging them they’d accepted them, gently, patiently, not rushing sidekick to grow all at once. 

That alone warranted repayment, call it retribution, call it love, call it duty or penance, Sidekick was just ready to get it over with. 

They were thinking all of these things as they trudged into the darkness, gun in hand as soon as hero was out of sight, ready to finally protect hero in the only way that hero couldn’t protect themselves. 

Villain evaded them a few more times, clueless to sidekick’s plan themselves, they couldn’t see the gun clenched in Sidekick’s hands in the dark. Speaking of the dark, now that they were alone Sidekick felt the darkness closing in, it felt like a creature crouched at their feet, they couldn’t quite shake the feeling that the darkness was on Villain’s side. 

Finally after what felt like hours they saw the silhouette of a figure crouched in the grass, moving carefully along the underbrush–Villain! They readied their gun, taking a half breath to try and stop their hand from shaking so badly–they’d done this before, but not recently, and they were now very aware of what they were about to do–kill a man. 

But in one shot they’d be free, and hero would be safe, it didn’t really matter what happened after that. 

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Villain thought they’d finally lost their former sidekick in the woods when they heard an anguished cry split the night. It was so raw that for a moment Villain thought it was an animal, they froze to listen, tilting their head to the side slightly in the dark. The sound came again, realizing it was human sent a cold chill down Villain’s spine. 

Villain went towards the sound without really making a decision to, they got close when they recognized the voice as Sidekick’s, screaming and sobbing like their limbs were being ripped off. Villain felt a wave of fear prickle beneath their skin, Sidekick never cried, when they got to the tiny clearing where Sidekick was what they saw there made them feel like someone had let all of the air out of their lungs unannounced. 

Sidekick’s hands and arms were covered in blood as they leaned over hero, they were trying to stop the bleeding from the wound in hero’s side, but to Villain it already looked too late, hero was far too pale, and completely limp, unresponsive, their blood was still seeping between sidekick’s frantic fingers.

“No!” Sidekick howled, “Please god, no!” They were shaking badly, Villain could see the gun just out of reach to their left, “I’m sorry!” They sobbed desperately down at hero, “I’m so sorry, I just–I didn’t want–oh please no!” 

“What did you do?” Villain asked, not completely able to keep the horror out of their voice, sidekick didn’t hear them come up behind them, they looked up their face a mess of tears and instantly their open grieving expression hardened to one of hate. 

“This was supposed to be you!” they growled, “I–I tried!” But their heaving sobs cut them off as they decided to ignore Villain and keep putting pressure on hero’s wounds. 

It was a losing battle, both Villain and sidekick knew it. 

Villain took a measured breath, they didn’t mind killing people who stood against them, or those who put them in a corner, murder to eliminate or lower damages was of no regard to them, but this was hero, the goody two-shoes who’d saved their own worthless life more times than they could count. 

This wasn’t heroics, this was simply repaying part of a giant debt. 

“Come on, bring them, follow me,” Villain commanded their old sidekick, their voice full of bitter pity. 

Sidekick decided then that saving hero wasn’t going to be possible, they let their hands drop from hero’s wound, the wound that they’d inflicted, their grief turning to acid in their throat, they scrambled for the gun, but Villain was faster than them, kicking the pistol away and after a brief scuffle pinning sidekick to the ground. 

“Listen!” Villain hissed, “I can save them! But I need your help to get them to my base, if you still want to kill me after, then we can arrange something!” 

Sidekick looked up at them in confusion, Villain noted that a thumbprint of hero’s blood had somehow gotten on their cheek. Sick, Villain felt sick, they could almost feel the violent agony of Sidekick’s emotions swirling inside of them when they looked their once friend now prospective murderer in the eyes. 

“But I can’t do both die and save them, so make your decision!” They released sidekick and stood up, brushing dried pine needles from their jacket. 

Sidekick didn’t say anything, but they knew that they were losing time with every second that it took them to deliberate, so they chose hero, there hadn’t really ever been another choice, between them and Villain they carried the limp hero through the forest. By the time they reached Villain’s base sidekick’s mind had melted numb, they focused on putting one foot in front of the other, then holding hero alone while Villain opened the door. 

Sidekick didn’t even have any thoughts about walking willingly back into the home base of a person they’d sworn to kill, they thought absently if they were going into shock, Villain must have thought so too, as soon as hero was laid on the long silver table and Villain’s people were scrambling to get the medic and the equipment they’d requested Villain handed Sidekick a large blanket and told them to sit on the couch in the corner. 

Villain looked at sidekick’s wide hollow eyes, “I’ll get you when they’re stable,” they stated briskly, steering Sidekick away from the action. 

Sidekick surprised them with a high frantic bray of laughter, “I’ll get them!” They choked out, “That’s the last thing I said to hero before I shot them! Oh my god I’ll get them!” 

Villain wasn’t sure what to do as sidekick crept over to the couch and sat down laughing hysterically all the way, even as tears streamed down their face. Villain didn’t think that they were ever going to forget this, no matter how badly they wanted to,  Sidekick had always been so stoic, seeing something that needed to be done and doing it, no questions asked, that was what had made them such a valuable asset.Seeing them like this shook Villain to the core, but Villain had to get back to hero, they stood there for a long second, watching Sidekick come apart completely right in front of them. 

“I’ll get them!” Sidekick howled, and Villain was no longer sure if they were laughing or crying, only that they were broken completely. 

[agirlandabear]

Of choice and unconditionality: to forgive God

A demon can always feel an angel.

An angel can always feel a demon.

It was the mission of the Blessed ones to rescue their Fallen Brethren.

It was the pleasure of the Damned to lure them into the darkest pit of despair.

Angels were truly easy to corrupt. Simply threatening to bring harm to mankind was more than enough to break the Kin of the first Four Spheres, even if it took a bit of extra coaxing.

Yet, if there was something a demon should rightly fear, was the superior Kin. Seventh, Eighth, Ninth? Nobody had Fallen from there except Lucifer himself and a handful of others that formed the First Hierarchy.

Sixth Sphere? Hard. Hard, but possible. Hells rejoiced when a soul plummeted from that height.

Fifth, however...

Fifth was a... tricky Sphere.

It had happened, of course, but by Belphegor’s balls, nobody wanted to entangle with an angel born in the Fifth Sphere.

Why? Well, because angels were all the same. They were made of the purest love, martyrdom, and benevolence.

All the same in their proceeding, all willing to let themselves be used and discarded by the Force of Creation. Some were not so easy to manipulate, but overall, this was and had always been a one sided fight. Nobody knows how to turn the other cheek better than an angel.

Except when it came to those in the Fifth Sphere.

The fuckers had a dogma and they stuck to it. Yeah, you might eventually succeed or fail in swaying angels out of their unconditional love for the Almighty, but in the meanwhile a battle of wits and eloquence took place. Threats, persuasion, trickery, seduction, promises, temptation, it was all nice and common, the only ones that could really get hurt were the humans.

Except when it came to those in the Fifth Sphere.

The fight was literal there, and trust the ashes of the Forgotten to tell you the Fifth Sphere excels at hunting and obliterating the Fallen.

It was fucking carnage.

While the superior Triad could purify the lesser demonic soul in an instant, the Fifth Sphere was brutal. Run, hide, it doesn’t matter. Sooner or later their burning swords will be falling upon your neck if you’ve pissed one badly enough.

It was perhaps what kept the Hells from going rampant, the threat of their retaliation.

They didn’t call them the Celestial Hounds for nothing.

The worst thing was that they didn’t have a superior other than The One Above All, and the Lord works in mysterious ways, doesn’t He?

All the other Spheres knew mercy and compassion. The Fifth did too, really. Except they expressed their clemency through... well, utter and final obliteration.

What a scary thing was to truly Die.

Human death was barely a change of clothes. Take a stroll around Purgatory, come out Blessed or Fallen. Attempt to recruit the others to your side. Keep them from luring you in. Fail or succeed. A tug of war of love and hate. Thus was eternity.

Or so it is until a demon threatens an angel of the Sixth Sphere with a plague that should befall a portion of mankind should the angel refuse Demise. Either if the angel Falls or lets the plague consume unknowing humans, it doesn’t matter. A Fifth Born now is on the demon’s tail.

You push too far, the Hounds are onto you.

Fight back, for all the good it’ll do. Their wings are dark and large, they fly faster than any other member of the Kin, and they fear no final Death, no pain. Nothing.

Once. Once a Fifth Born was defeated, and what a sight it was.

It challenged Leviathan, master of a Seventh of All Miseries. And the fight shook the very foundation of Earth.

But before Falling, Leviathan had been an Eighth Born. He had been Kin to Peter and John, to The Mother, to Adam and Abel.

And still the Fifth Born held its ground for longer than time could express.

Despite failing, it sent a message, loud and clear.

You cannot escape the Hounds.

If The One unleashes two of us upon Lucifer himself, he will fall.

And we are many.

We are many more than you can escape from.

All demon Kin refused to acknowledge the fact that they lived and thrived because The Almighty allowed it. Because the Hounds were patiently watching them play around, waiting to be released. When The One Above All considered they were beyond redemption, it was over.

Lucifer wandered Earth with a gentle smile, bemused and almost nostalgic; knowing The Father still thought there was hope for him.

And He said, Let there be light: and there were also shadows.

In the Fifth Sphere, Michaela’s form becomes tangible and fearsome, light twisting into shapes of life, curves and angles, bones and flesh. Her long hair whips in the heavenly wind and her massive brown wings bend together to cast a cross shaped shadow.

She has found a Malakhim has been pushing far enough. He has been given enough chances.

And it is time to end it.

She flies to the presence of The One, as close as she can get, to where His Might burns and blinds.

“Father, if Your will permits it, I shall proceed. There is one that must be stopped. Your children have suffered enough in his name. May Your light shine upon his spirit before my arrival.”

And with that, she is gone.

~

Once, her spirit was tied to a body. Once, she too had been human.

Those days had been left behind before Time enveloped Creation. Her entire existence had been at the service of the Almighty since before the dawn of mankind. She was one of His fiercest exterminators.

In a twirl of violent winds and dark brown feathers, she landed amongst humans, who could not see her or feel her.

She walked the length of the road, and by its end, felt a tug.

A small, gentle tug.

An angel can always feel a demon.

Before a fraction of a second had passed, she leaped into the air and dashed to where the insistent tugging took her. Like a call.

Michaela had taken to the skies a long… long time ago.

Many, perhaps too many, demons had met their final Death by the end of her sword during these eons.

The trees split to let her through.

Did she have doubts? Did she question the Father?

She was a dash against the white-blue sky.

Of course, and proudly. Blind obedience could be twisted either way, but critical thought, acceptance, and faith was the foundation of the truest of loves.

The winds enveloped her as she descended upon a clearing, where a demon lay gazing into the clouds, sitting with his back against a tree.

Was she tempted to taste Damnation?

The demon glanced her way, unmoving.

Every single day.

Michaela’s grey eyes remained on the demon as she walked towards him, the divine Flame roaring to life in the grasp of her fingers.

He wasn’t talking, or reacting. It was not the first time, though. Repentance, false as it may be, sometimes could only reach a creature in its final moments. But some would face their actions head on, resigned to the consequences of their doings.

It would not be the first time Michaela took the life of a paralyzed demon.

Towering over him, the Fire of His Holy Wrath tight between her fingers, she muttered a prayer for the foregone soul and set herself to attack.

He didn’t flinch. Motionless and unfazed, he watched her dash.

Still he tilted his head, and then…

“What a beautiful woman you must have been in life.”

His voice, especially his choice of words, made her hesitate.

The demon’s eyes lazily returned to the sky.

Michaela halted at the sight of those orbs.

They were so… tired.

So lifeless. So resigned.

She lowered her hand.

“Such a human thing to say,” she answered, her voice tight and clipped.

“Truly. Old habits die hard.”

“Old? Stand, Lost one.”

The command of her voice could never be refused, and soon, tiredly, the demon was on his feet.

“Spread your wings for me.”

The pristine white feathers ruffled with a shake.

“Such a young Malakhim. Such monstrosity you are. In a mere lustrum you have ripped yourself so far away from The Father’s Grace that you deserve nothing but the peace of my sword. I must say, that I am even impressed.”

“Do what you came to do, inquisitor. Be fast.”

Michaela indulged herself in the fruit of knowledge.

Knowledge and discernment were valuable in her mission. Understand the enemy to rid the world of it sooner and better.

It was still dangerous terrain, though.

“Do you comprehend what will befall you?”

“Yes.”

“You want it.”

“Yes.”

“Were you suicidal in life?”

“Yes.”

“So was I.”

“Don’t all suicides belong to Damnation?”

“Only if we wish to.”

The Fallen one narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. He smirked and his voice turned soft and amused. “You are trying to seduce me!”

“Believe me, it gives me no pleasure to bring final Death to an existence, especially one as young as yours.”

“Time means nothing to a Seraph.”

“You are more human than Kin.”

“Don’t you have a mission, Hound? You were not sent here to talk.”

“Wasn’t I? I was sent here. I was just sent here. Doesn’t He-?”

“If you say ‘work in mysterious ways’ I swear I’m gonna vomit.”

She chuckles.

“Do you find Heresy entertaining?”

“As I said, you are more human than Kin.”

“You see me as a child.”

“Yes. And your ignorance is easy to dismiss and forgive. You mock Him because you haven’t bathed in His Light… Don’t you wish to see it, Malakhim? If you carve for Oblivion afterwards I can still provide. But don’t you wish to feel it at least once?”

The demon smiled slowly.

“Do what you came to do.”

She answered his smile with a saddened shake of her head.

“Such a youth. May you find peace in eternal Silence.”

She lifted her sword once more.

“SERAPH!”

A new form plummeted from the heights, all white feathers, lithe and shaking.

It kneeled before her in a gesture so pagan it as painful to watch. Hands latched to her ankles.

“MERCY! HAVE MERCY! I BEG OF YOU!”

An angel.

Wings beat and the demon fled.

She groaned.

No matter. Within the span of an instant she could be by his side again.

Michaela stared down the Malakhim that supplicated at her feet.

“Stand.”

The other did, with raw tears falling down his cheeks.

“Who are you?”

“I’m no one! I’m nothing! I’m an undeserving failure that will take his place if his crimes have been too many. Take my life. Take my life, please, but spare him!”

“Better spare me and simply tell me who you are and what you want. What’s your name?”

“L-Luciel. My name is Luciel.”

“And what is your relation to that Fallen one?”

“He… He was my only brother. Before, when we were human.”

“Ah… I see now. What is his name?”

“He has none.”

She clicked her tongue. “Nonsense. He has taken a form, and for that, he requires a name.”

“If he has one, he hasn’t said it out loud to anyone.”

“You are trying to save him.”

“Yes… Yes, I am.”

“Such a human attachment. I am surprised you haven’t followed him. Why is that?”

“If I Fall, there will be no hope left for him.”

“So you stand firm through altruism. Respectable, albeit questionable. Luciel, know that the crimes your brother has committed cannot be forgiven because he does not want them to be forgiven.”

“He does! He does, of course he does. You just… You have to understand, he rejected Purgatory. There’s so much pain inside of him. He needs time. Give me time. I can heal him. I can help him.”

She shook her head with sadness and grasped the other’s shoulder.

“Luciel, you cannot heal the Fallen. They are the only ones that can save themselves. You must learn to let go of this attachment. Love him still, and rejoice in the knowledge that in true Death he will bring no more harm.”

The male looked as if he had just been burned.

“How can you ask that of me…! I failed him in life and I refuse to fail him again. Please. Please, you are ancient. For you, time is meaningless. Please, just give me some time.”

She tilted her head. “He will bring pain upon mankind.”

“Not while I chase him. He escapes me. If I’m constantly chasing him, he can’t stop to hurt anyone!”

Her eyes softened. “You are going to lose track of him. Eventually you won’t feel him anymore.”

“It’s true that unlike you I can’t feel all demons wherever they are. But… But I have to try.”

Michaela remained silent.

“Please, please let me try to save him.”

She sighed.

“Goodness, who let the two of you out of Purgatory…?”

Luciel laughed and hugged her tightly. “Thank you! Thank you! I’ll try to follow him now. I promise he can be saved. Thank you!”

The angel took flight and Michaela rubbed her eyes.

Was she doing the right thing?

Something deep in her heart told her to have faith.

~

For her, that had lived through ages of nature and man, time was such a relative concept.

She knew how long had it been since encountering that Damned, but for her it felt like mere moments, while entire generations of Earthly beings thrived and died in the same span of time.

How long is long enough?

She had promised Luciel time, but how much time is too much time when time is meaningless?

She sang her praise as her spirit was set on fire and, oh, how beautiful it was to Worship.

Worship in all things. Worship in your thoughts and in your actions.

She decided enough time had passed when Luciel finally lost track of his brother.

She descended upon Earth, knowing exactly where the demon was.

She found him waiting, sitting on the roof of a collapsed house.

He turned to her once more, his empty eyes finding hers and then returning to the clouds.

“For one so adamant on rejecting salvation, you sure spend much of your time glancing towards the Heavens.”

“Not heaven. The sky.”

“You stare into eternity. Into infinity. There is nothing more Heavenly than that.”

“I stopped caring for what’s beyond the sky.”

“It has not stopped caring for you.”

The smile stretched upon his lips again. “Such a shameless flirt, Seraph…!”

“Your brother thinks you can be saved, and frankly so do I. Make no mistake, since times before Thought I have been hunting the Fallen Brethren and this is the first time I am unleashed upon one and found it worthy of a second chance. But Luciel has lost track of you, and so I’ve come. To bring you redemption or Death. It’s your choice.”

The demon stood and walked towards her. “Do you remember what it was like to be human?”

She tilted her head.

“Yes.”

“Do you remember what it felt to have flesh and bone? To cry, to sleep, to starve?”

“Yes.”

“Come with me.”

The demon hopped off the roof and entered the house.

Michaela followed suit. The insides were dark but she could see every detail.

The Fallen one was already waiting, his form solidified, human by all standards except for his alleged immortality.

He turned around, gentle green eyes searching the darkness.

“Manifest. I can still sense you but I wish to talk to you, and I can’t hear you if you don’t take human form.”

The demon waited for a long moment, thinking that perhaps she would refuse. But eventually in the dimness flesh coated bone and six dark wings were left behind.

Michaela glanced at him without a word.

He chuckled.

“What is it, Malakhim?”

“You’re shorter than me.”

“If so I wish.”

“Was this how you looked before Ascending?”

“I don’t know. I never saw my reflection back when I had my body.”

“And whose body is this?”

“Of a young woman with a pure soul that once invoked me.”

“Have you been working miracles, Seraph?”

“Only when it’s prudent.”

He walked closer and took a strand of her long brown hair between his fingers.

“I like it. It suits you.”

“Why did you make me take this form?”

“Because I want you to remember what it was like to be human. To feel pain and joy.”

He turned and opened a door. A boarded window barely let light penetrate the darkness. There were two mattresses on the floor, a closet, a bucket.

Shackles.

“What is this place?” She asked, carefully.

“Home… This… This piece of shit… Is home.”

“Is this where you died?”

“No. I grew up here. My brother, the angel you saw, we were twins. He abandoned me. My mother, if you could call it that, held me here. Tortured me. Year after year after year. And I was alone…”

“Physical pain-”

“Physical pain!” He snapped. “Do you think I ever cared about the physical pain? That passing thing!? No. No, even animals can forget the ache of the body. Do you want to know what I felt in here?”

She said nothing.

His fists tightened.

Tears began to fall.

He shook, teeth clenched.

“Love.”

Michaela frowned.

“I felt so much love in here. There was nothing but love. For my brother, for my life, for my mother. Can you imagine that? I loved my mother. I still love my mother. The creature that brought torment and agony over me. I love her… It was unconditional love… It was the purest love. The love of a child.”

She walked closer but didn’t touch him.

He wiped the tears that kept falling with the heel of his hands. “I waited and I loved. I wanted to die. Then there was hate. Endless hate. And then there was silence… Purgatory was silent… Do you know what they offered me? They offered me His Eternal Love. Do you know what I did? I laughed. Eternal, unconditional love had been nothing but poison for me.”

He turned to her.

“I don’t blame Him for abandoning me. I don’t even care that He let it happen… But to keep on loving Him eternally…? It’s monstrous. It’s monstrous and cruel and unforgivable. Then, I am Fallen. Then, I want Death.”

Her gaze softened.

“You did all those things just to bring me to you. You wanted to be hunted down.”

He nodded in defeat.

She reached up and cupped his face with both hands, her thumbs softly brushing his wet cheekbones.

“I won’t bring Death to you.”

He opened his eyes, holding her wrists in his grasp, and pleaded with a grief so deep it broke Michaela’s heart.

“Please… give me peace…”

“Death won’t free you.”

“Nothing else can.”

“Yes it can. I can.”

He shook his head.

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“I will give you the choice. I will give you the choice and through your free will you will be healed… I will stay with you… I will stay with you as you mend yourself… Luciel was right… You can be saved. You deserve to be saved.”

He kept on shaking his head but now his shoulders were also trembling. He broke in a chuckle that became louder and louder. He leaned forward, his forehead touching hers as he laughed, madness spilling from the sound like venom.

“You innocent fool! Do you want me to love you, you miserable creature? Meaningless pawn? Do you think loving you by choice will erase the demand of your Lord!? Stay. Stay, by all means. I will twist you. I will reshape you. And when you have finally Fallen they will send another. They will send one that will give me what I want. Stay and love me, stay and love me, stay and love me and I will destroy you…”

Michaela held him tenderly for in his mirth, he was still weeping.

Thus was eternity.

A tug of war of love and hate.

He welcomed her, for what was an angel but a demon waiting to be corrupted?

She stayed… for what was a demon but an angel waiting to be saved?

~ Day 5: Angel/Demon AU

Angst/Fantasy

Saeran x MC

Sources: Ars Goetia, The Divine Comedy (mostly)

Michaela: female form of the name Michael. A question meaning “Who is like God?”

Malakhim: Lowest angelic class. It’s not a name in this story, simply a noun referring to a member of the celestial Kin. Means Messenger or Envoy.

@rfaauweek

[counttotwenty]

Bullet Points: Collecting Clues

Murder Most Foul-part 3 (parts 1-2 can be found here and here) Bullet points are encapsulated scene analysis from the top of each act to the bottom. (each act is bookended by a commercial break)

1. The way they shoot the establishing scene of Act 1, uneven light, shadows on the floor, lots of extraneous sound, with the stone columns at times obstructing our view of Robert, is a reminder that we the don’t yet have a clear picture of exactly who he is. Or at the very least that the picture we think we have isn’t accurate.

Nicely done.

2. “You should be spending that on your family.” 

That may well be true but keep in mind, no one likes a judge-y barkeep. 

As far as an exposition scenes go this one was handled fairly well. Giving David’s age, along with Robert’s current ‘half in the bag and so broke everyone in town knows about it’ status, is great shorthand for letting the viewer know everything they need to know about the last 6 years. 

They’ve been rough.

3. It’s kind of heartbreaking that all of the tables surrounding Robert are filled with people celebrating in pairs or in groups. Even the candles on the other tables are less melted down and sad looking than his. Poor guy.

Great visual representation of his current state.

4.”He deserves better than me”

Robert is self aware enough to know he’s on a bad path but he spends what little money he has on a drink anyway. Much to the barkeeps scowling disapproval. Seriously, dude, I’m pretty sure trying to push the customers towards sobriety is bad for business. If you’re looking for every person you encounter at work to be making good decisions a bar was a bad choice of employment.

But still this brings up a very important point. Right now Robert isn’t trying to improve himself. In fact, he’s leaning in on the whole drunken loser thing. He may not be happy with where his life is but he’s not unhappy enough to do anything about it.

It’s important when comparing all the people in this ep dealing with the idea of redemption to remember where each person is on the journey.

There was a period of time when Hook was content to be a pirate. He had no desire to change. Then a defining moment with a certain blonde savior struck like a bolt from the sky and suddenly he was all about charting a new course.

Perhaps Robert can have a similar moment.

Oh hello, King George.

BOING!!!!!!!!!!

5. “Do you think he’s going to want to come back here to a dying farm and a drunken father?” 

Well definitely not if you put it to him that way.

This exchange is a sad glimpse into the toll the last 6 years have taken on Ruth. She’s lost hope to the point that she can’t even imagine her son wanting to come home.

6. “I have to be better for the boy.” Interesting he doesn’t say boys plural. (more on this in a minute)

7. BEAUTIFUL camera work to shoot Robert’s determined “I have to try” from young David’s perspective. David has a hope and an innocence at this point that no one else in Robert’s life does. He believes in his father’s ability to get well without question or doubt.

7. “Fixing this broken family is how I finally fix myself.”

Redemption isn’t about just changing yourself. It’s about becoming a positive force for the people you love.

BOING!!!

8. “In two weeks I’ll be home. Myself again.”

I’m just sayin’

9. It’s interesting that Rumple’s coin became David’s “lucky” coin. Because the question of which boy was lucky looms large for the entire family. The fact is that even though the boys are identical twins the action Robert took 6 years ago, essentially selling James to the king, regardless of the reasons, created a world where what’s best for one of the boys may not be best for the other.

Hence the singular use of the word earlier.

Very subtle and very nicely done.

10. So young David descends the stairs with the coin to give it to his father right before we cut to grown up David descending the metaphorical stairs of obsession when it comes to learning the truth about his father.

Bravo. Well done.

11. Between the backwards sitting in the chair and the way he popped up and almost glided to the door I thought David was about to go all Flashdance on us for a minute.

12. Nice work with the bike hanging on the wall. These two characters are headed for a steep uphill climb.

I see you, show.

13. Josh Dallas does a good job here of making it clear David has gone a bit round the bend without overdoing it and making it campy. The nervous energy, the laser focus, the way he disregards the very clear signals Killian is putting out that he’s not on board with the plan

He’s a man on a mission and he will not be deterred.

Even when it’s clear to the audience, even if they hadn’t seen the Archie scene, that Killian has something else on his mind.

14.”Are you entirely sure about that? Heh. Colin delivers that line flawlessly.

15. Both actors do a great job here of helping the audience see and feel exactly what their character is going through. And in doing so a feeling of uneasiness begins to set in. Because it’s clear they want two very different things.

Someone asked a few days ago if A&E dropped a trail of breadcrumbs to the murder reveal of if they worked hard to preserve the twist. I said at the time, and I still believe, that they did everything they could to preserve the twist.

It’s moments like this however, when we see these two men pursuing diametrically opposed agendas, that we can see something looming in the future for them. Even though there were no breadcrumbs to specifically what.

16. “You’re a pirate. And a pirate’s what I need.”

Ooooooof

Read the room, David.

Killian’s disappointment at hearing that is palpable yet David barrels forward like he just pinned a gold star on Killian’s chest.

The ultimate irony here. of course, is that what happens later in the ep is a direct result of Killian being a pirate and doing what pirates do.

Well played, show.

Be careful what you wish for.

BOING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

17. Robin asking Regina to tell him their story at some point is interesting. There are three scenes in this Act. In the first scene Robert is struggling to define who he is, in the second scene David badly misidentifies who Killian is now, and in the third scene Robin is asking Regina to define his identity for him.

That’s a lot of flashing red neon you invested in there, guys.

Whatever else may happen later in the ep to draw attention (heh) the bottom line is that this is an arc about identity. Who you are, who others think you are, and who you want to be.

I said in a post a few days ago that Killian was fixin to be a the center of a storyline that defines the first six seasons and this is it. Since day one we’ve seen the characters struggle with the dichotomy of the SB personas vs their EF personas, we’ve seen some struggle with the pull of evil and seen them wonder if embracing it is who they really are, we’ve seen people wrestle with the idea of true love and how it defines a person, we’ve seen people struggle against the concept of fate, we’ve seen Snow get her groove back and eschew the Mary Margaret moniker. It’s all been about defining yourself to yourself and to those around you.

Peripheral character my ass.

18. “Actually, it’s quite easy.” 

Sing it, Zelena. Can I get about 100000000000 amens.

As usual, it’s difficult because Regina is making it difficult. She wants what she wants--for this new person to be the old Robin--and she refuses to accept she can’t have her way and continues to try to have her cake and eat it too.

19. I really wanna believe the programming department at ABC knows what they’re doing but then I remember someone there--or actually several someone’s there--gave the green light to Imaginary Mary and I realize my faith is badly misplaced.

Next up--You Gotta Trust Me