#all these people who have seen his memories and seen his anguish but do not know him as you do

[daydreamey]

inquisitor lavellan: 🧍‍♀️is there....any chance that solas might listen to reason..?

everybody else:

[fallenrocket]

I can't stop thinking about the Doctor's reaction at the end of "Dot and Bubble." That penny drop moment, the stunned laughter followed by the scream of futile anguish followed by the silent tears. Fantastically played by Ncuti Gatwa, and for me, it's a reaction that absolutely makes sense for this situation and this Doctor.

First of all, of course the Doctor wants to save them and gets desperate when they won't let him. Of course he does--that's just who the Doctor is. We've seen them save vile, self-serving humans before, we've seen them offer Sycorax and Rachnoss and Daleks a last chance. No matter how these people have treated him or what they think of him, he still wants to be able to save them.

I keep thinking about how his laughter gives way to a scream. That's very fitting for his Doctor in particular. For all of Fourteen's "rehab," it's clear that Fifteen still has his issues, and I've seen them in the moments where he shouldn't be smiling. The way he briskly tells Ruby that Gallifrey is gone, the way he seems to shrug off not knowing whether Susan was killed with the rest of the Time Lords. It makes a lot of sense to me that he would laugh before he would scream.

Then too, there's the laughter being in part due to his surprise. The Doctor knows they've been Black before, because Thirteen met the Fugitive Doctor and saw the hints of their pre-One past in the Matrix, but he doesn't have those actual memories of the experience of being Black. He's not used to walking around in this skin, with this face. I'm sure he noticed how rude and distrustful Lindy was to him, but he didn't catch why. Not until the end. And it's so dumb and hateful and pointless and absurd, and she's going to die because of it, so in that very first moment, what can he do but laugh?

Finally, I've also been thinking about Ruby crying for him, wanting to comfort the Doctor but knowing she can't make it better. Millie Gibson does a beautiful job as well, capturing Ruby's reaction to a tee without drawing focus from Ncuti's powerhouse performance.

[lordofdestructionm]

Viktor and Elsa

A secret passion?

Viktor Vasko and Elsa Bastion (formerly Arbogast) clearly share a connection. This has been clear since the Defiance flashback

This perhaps shouldn't be that much of a surprise. They are both veterans of the Great War, they have both experienced and still bear the inner scars that come with the tragedy and brutality of war and the suffering it brings.

Elsa in her capacity as a nurse, who no doubt saw all manner of mangled and broken men, and Viktor the muddy, bloody, living hell that was the front line of the trenches. It only makes sense that such people would be able to understand each other in ways others wouldn't.

Elsa has no doubt spent plenty of time treating wounded soldiers and seen the emotional anguish, and so would be able to see through that sour intimidating facade that keeps most people at arms length. While Viktor could find reassurance in the company of a kind and compasionate woman like Elsa

But many fans have found themselves wondering if there could be more to it than that.

Viktor spent some time staying at the arbogast household, and it seems in that time Elsa got to know Viktor very well, learning more about his life than even Ivy, someone that can approach Viktor much easier than most as a stand in daughter to him, and even to the extent she knows Viktor would never have agreed to let her put herself in danger

Viktor for his part may also feel more than just friendly towards her, if the face he makes when she is finally able to get through to him by phone to inform him about Ivy putting herself in danger is anything to go by.

Having been in a pit of deep despair over the memory of his far away daughter, plus the poor state of his health with compromised knees and a hole in his chest, hearing from her seems to make that normally scowling face soften

But before we all jump on that bandwagon and "Viktor x Elsa" become our new Lackadaisy otp, we have to consider the jolly British elephant in the room.

Bobby Bastion

Bobby is another war veteran and it was though their service that they met just after the war and later married.

He appears to be a very jolly and affable chap (relative to most bootleggers anyway), which may well be what drew Elsa to him in the first place. Someone who could counter her melancholy from the dark times they went through

He seems to be very aware and considerate of his wife's relative melancholy, by Elsa's own admission leaving a very lucrative funeral trade in the big city to move too a small quiet community that offered little business but gave Elsa the peace and quiet she needed (like Viktor it seems she hates "noise, noise, noise" thanks to the war).

Their involvement in bootlegging in the first place it seems was to compensate for this and provide the income to sustain this relative isolation

But despite this, perhaps their diffent mindset has become more of a barrier between them rather than something that compliments each other?

As the family illustration suggests, Bobby is relatively content and able to smell the flowers, while Elsa remains haunted. Bobby's humour also seems to have little effect on Elas's mood

Could it be that Elsa would be drawn to someone like Viktor, someone who suffers from the same trauma as her and may be more willing to admit to the pain, than a husband who despite the best of intentions is trying to just smooth over the problem? Quite possible

But even with that strong connection and bond between them, even if there is a mutual spark, does that suggest an actual affair? That's the big question here.

While arguably not handling his wife's troubles in the best way, Bobby seems to be a loving husband doing his best for his wife who he cares for deeply. Is Elsa the type of person who would cheat on her kind husband for helping in the "wrong way"?

Plus Bobby not only shows no sign of concern about Viktor staying with them and being around his wife, but, (despite his brother in laws interuption) mentions that he was very grateful for Viktor's help and actually saw him as almost "part of the family"

Is this a case of "ignorance is bliss"? Does he simply blindly trust his wife so much that the possibility doesn't even occur to him, or does he know her well enough to be certain that infidelity is something she simply would not do?

But this is all speculation at this point. What do you think?

Is poor Bobby blind to what happened under his own roof? Is it a matter of two people feeling an attraction but tragically unable to act on it due to circumstances? Or is it just an innocent matter of two wounded souls with shells and screams still ringing in their ears recognizing the scars on each other and offering some understanding?

Thanks to @ursiday whose Viktor and Elsa art got my over analysing brain juices flowing again ;)

[indigovigilance]

Maggie is Possessed

This is my second meta! My first one is here.

I’m not the first fan to be suspicious of Maggie but I’m going to argue why she might be possessed (and I hypothesize that specifically she is possessed by an angel), rather than being eldritch herself, and will propose some reasons why the hitchhiker might be doing this.

First, a quick list of her early observable behaviors:

She cannot spell urgency

She signs “very faithfully yours”

She refuses to drink alcohol

Golden angel-wing earrings, anyone?

Have you seen those clothes?

All of those things are angelic, but why possession, specifically? Evidence is presented in order of chronology and not necessarily how strong it is, below the cut:

First: The timeline is weird. She’s eight months behind on rent, and suddenly decides she needs to speak to Mr. Fell “on a matter of some ugrency” and insists she can be out by next week. It’s inconsistent behavior that could indicate that a new decision-maker has taken over. First-point-five, she calls Aziraphale an angel: does she know?

Second: re-watch the first coffee shop scene, S2E1 at 13:20. Yes yes, it reads like a cute lesbian flirtation scene. That’s the cowrie shell. Pick it up. There’s a caraway seed underneath. When she arrives at the coffee shop for the first time, Maggie’s confused “ah, yes, coffee” might not be the flustered redirect you thought it was, but rather indicating that whoever is riding around in that body doesn’t actually know how a coffee shop works. But Nina (to Hitchhiker!Maggie’s relief) remembers her order. So Human!Maggie has been here before, in fact, Nina calls her a regular, to which Hitchhiker!Maggie says “oh right, yes, I’m that.” Not sus at all, sister.

Third: During the “herbal tea” exchange, Maggie says to Nina that “I didn’t go to parties” and she was “not that sort of teenager.” On it’s face it reads like she was a goody-two-shoes human teenager, but consider for a moment that whoever is speaking right now was never human; the statement isn’t a lie, but its very misleading. Who else do we know that does that?

Fourth: During the lock-in, Maggie tells the story of how her great grandmother’s store was in a corner of Mr. Fell’s bookshop, so he lets them stay on for old time’s sake. One possible interpretation of this phrasing is that Hitchhiker!Maggie knows that Aziraphale has owned that shop continuously for at least 100 years. Nina is the one that suggests that it was actually Aziraphale’s grandfather, and Maggie nods along.

Fifth: Maggie says it’s a “coincidence” that the power goes in and out when Crowley passes by; could read as a deliberate redirect from someone who actually knows that Crowley is a demon? But more on that later.

Sixth: I’m skipping a lot of intervening content BUT at the ball, during the dance, she says “this is just what we do, isn’t it?” to which Nina emphatically replies that no, it isn’t. So even though Nina has been effected by an emotion-suppressing aura, she hasn’t lost her memory of how society generally works in 2023, but somehow Maggie isn’t up to date. This is parallel to Point #2, not knowing how to order coffee.

Seventh: Aziraphale’s attempted miracle memory wipe doesn’t work on her. I’ve seen others suggest that it’s due to a miracle blocker but all of his other miracles work, so…

Eighth: Nina calls her “angel.” You thought it was cute. It’s not. It’s a double-bluff. She’s actually an angel.

Ninth: She tells Crowley that “we’re real people.” Okay, human police officer Inspector Constable, whatever you say.

The rest of this is wild speculation. Abandon hope all ye who read below the fold.

So of course this raises the question: why are is the hitchhiker here, and what was Human!Maggie’s motivation to give them permission to hitchhike?

I’ll start with Human!Maggie’s motivation. I believe that she is not just pretendy-good but a properly good person who feels a lot of anguish about her failing business, one that’s been in the family for 100 years, and guilt for not paying her rent. I think she prayed for help, and a “guardian angel” answered her prayers, and she gave that angel permission to possess her and fix the problem.

As for why the angel answered her prayers, I propose that the Metatron sent them to fuck around with Aziraphale. My evidence is that Maggie frequently meddles to Aziraphale’s detriment. In chronological order:

She puts him in a moral choice position: if he evicts her, he’s the bad guy. If he forgives her rent, he’s done something good. Both of these can be leveraged by the Metatron. Notably, after he forgives the rent, Maggie calls him an angel, perhaps to remind him whose side he’s really on *wink wink nudge nudge.*

She confides in her landlord about her crush on the business owner across the street, who’s already in a relationship?! How ridiculously inappropriate?? Maggie??!! But she does, and plants the idea in his head about love, which ultimately becomes the runaway train that makes him extremely vulnerable later.

She refuses to leave the shop during the attack (S2E5), I propose is for purposes of fucking over Aziraphale, as evidenced by…

For this part, I need you to go back and watch it. S2E6 at 3:28. During the pissing contest at the threshold, Maggie turns her head away, there is a sound effect, and that’s when she turns back to Shax and invites the demons in. Hitchhiker!Maggie has taken over and rolled out the carpet for the enemy invasion.

Maggie is the instigator of the “you have to talk about your feelings” conversation, dragging Nina from behind the counter across the street while she has a shop full of customers. Considering that the Metatron is at that very moment at the French restaurant next door, making a job offer to Aziraphale, the timing choice seems very suspect. Almost as if they coordinated to talk to each husband while they were separated.

So, it is possible that Hitchhiker!Maggie was sent by the Metatron as a spy and a saboteur to meddle with Aziraphale. To what end, specifically? Probably to get him to break up with Crowley and/or get him to return to Heaven, but ultimately, I just don’t know. I will admit that I don’t have a very strong conviction that this will become canon, but it was fun to write and I hope that it was fun to read! Leave a note if you enjoyed it!

edit: a link to another meta about why this was such an effective strategy against the husbands

[mrinafria]

The person who saved my life, and the person who made me want to live again, were all you.

Writing this to echo what @thedeathdeelers said in her post. I'm a Seon Jae softie through and through, and yet, when anyone questions Im Sol's choices or calls her names, I want to flip a table pretty much because have you seen the effects her choices have had on people?

Because of Im Sol's choices her mom doesn't have a burn injury on her hand.

Because of Im Sol's choices their house didn't completely burn down.

Because of Im Sol's choices Hyun Joo finally has the best of both worlds, with no regrets about letting go of something for the other. Her brother who was struggling with no motivation or luck whatsoever is definitely better off now.

Because of Im Sol's choices we even have a Tae Sung in the story, otherwise all we knew at the beginning, in episode 1, was he was some guy who dropped out of school after getting into a fight over something. Not the best first introduction to a character (who goes on to become the best second ML ever). I am the most proud about Tae Sung's transformation, because you can see that even in high school, underneath the 'bad boy' facade, he craved some genuine care and attention and guidance, which Im Sol the haelmoni, the yeppo noona provided.

Im Sol's choices allowed Seon Jae in Alt 2023 to live guilt-free for 14 years (where they confess), instead of him suffering that mental anguish and longing for 15 years out of guilt which the OG Seon Jae had to go through. And we all know what my feelings are about that version of him.

Because of Im Sol's choices, Sonagi exists (/-ed). Because if the 19yo Im Sol had not held the umbrella over him, giving him that dazzling smile of hers that is sunburst and blinding and contagious, capable of stirring storms within the heart, our boy would not be smitten and a loser and a goner for life (well, lives). And now we all know what that means when she chooses not to do that.

If Im Sol's choices have made anyone's life harder, it's Im Sol herself. She carries around the memories of THREE++ timelines, with the love of her life dying/almost dying in EVERY one of them. She goes through life as if she really didn't live through all that trauma that is enough to drive someone insane. She knows her Seon Jae is gone, for good, and all she has are memories that don't even exist in this timeline, memories that not even a single person can corroborate. You know how utterly helpless and hopeless that sounds like? She has a person in this timeline that resembles her Seon Jae, but she has to constantly remind herself he is not her person, her Seon-Jae, he better not be if she wants to see him alive. Going around in the city and seeing his posters/ads with his face on it, or stumbling onto him and seeing him staring at her with no recognition whatsoever? It's not easy. Becoming a complete stranger to someone who was once your everything, who could've been your everything. Not easy.

And she decides to carry on with life still because deep down she knows that's what Seon Jae would want, that's what Seon Jae had taught her: to live for the people who are thankful to have her around, to live to see another day, rain or shine. She loves life, lives life, as a token of gratitude to Seon Jae. She lives because when she says You saved my life, and you made me live to him, those are not just words she is casually throwing around. She is thankful that he made her find reasons to live one more day, and she is going to pay him back by living a worthwhile life. Because Seon Jae truly wants/ed that. He literally died wanting that, putting her life before him, because he wanted her to live, and by living, I mean not just breathing and spending the remainder of her life with survivor's guilt. Going back to this epic confession scene, he says all that because he is afraid of how Im Sol would go on with her life if he's no more. Here, he wants her to know that she doesn't need to blame herself, or suffer, because it is his choice to save her, and it'll all be worth it to him if she gets to live the best life she possibly can.

Just like Seon Jae in any timeline never stopped living or appreciating the good things in life despite longing for Im Sol for more than a decade, she will live and keep her love for him alive through herself. Even if she comes back home at the end of the day to cry in secret, or breaks down in tears in public places.

If Im Sol didn't make the choices she did, we won't have a Seon Jae to begin with.

[katebisxop]

familiar face | w.m & n.s

summary: wanda finds herself in an unexpected situation.

warnings: wanda is dead here (I REFUSE TO BELIEVE SHE ACTUALLY IS), nicky appearance, kinda angsty but also fluff i guess??, not that well written, i havent watched wandavision and it's been a while since mom so!!

wc: 949

wanda was lost.

all she could remember was sitting on mount wundagore, using her might and magic to cut the castle in half and bring it down upon herself.

the pain was too brief to be registered, and the next thing she knew, she had been transported somewhere.

the place was familiar in a way, but also new. it was dark and empty, no landscape whatsoever. wanda was surrounded by black, as if she had been dropped into a lightless box. she was barefoot, beneath her it felt like cold tiles.

she looked around. there was nothing to see - no people, no sound, not even a reflection.

an anguished cry crawled out of her throat. she was alone once more. she had her brother, then pietro died. she had vision, then he died. she had her sons, and even they were gone also.

no family, no friends, no lovers, and no enemies. wanda maximoff was truly and fully alone.

she fell down on a floor that didn't exist, sobs racking her body as she buried her face in her hands.

wanda sat there for who knew how long, eyes slowly growing puffy and her nose bright red. if this was how she was to spend eternity, wasn't death better? but if this were death - was it a punishment?

"i'm sorry my mother isn't here to take you."

wanda stopped immediately, having heard a child's voice. her head raised slowly from her palms, turning around to lock eyes with a boy barely past childhood.

another stifled cry from her as her hand flew up to cover her mouth in shock. the boy was familiar - too familiar. the soft smile and the way his eyes looked at her with so much kindness. in fact, he looked quite a bit like one of her own sons.

"billy?" wanda whispered, still in shock, hesitant to approach or even move. she had just had an interaction with one of billy's variants before this, and it wasn't at all pleasant.

the boy's head tilted, confused at the unfamiliarity of the name. "i'm afraid i'm not who you think. my name is nicholas."

the scarlet witch exhaled. "do you know where we are, nicholas?"

nicky smiled patiently. "waiting for my mother."

"and- and who is your mother?"

the boy paused, thinking carefully of what to answer next. "rio."

he sat next to wanda, ignoring her little flinch. "do you want to sit down for a while?"

she nodded, appreciating the patience of the small boy. how the tables have turned - she still remembered the amount of patience she had to have while raising her twins.

they sat there for a while, a mother and a son, in comfortable silence. wanda's sniffles gradually ceased, until the place was quiet once again. but this time she felt safe - knowing that she wasn't alone, that she was just waiting (for what, she didn't know), and she had company.

"tell me about yourself, nicholas."

he smiled again, twisting so that he sat facing her, and began relaying his memories to the witch before him. he spoke about the cozy little cottage he used to live in with his mama. he spoke about the wide, grassy green fields; of the townsfolk he visited every week with his mama; of the forest he was so used to and the goat he loved caring for, and the song he and his mama made. 'down, down, down the road, down the witches' road' he sang, giving a little sample.

but wanda caught on to a specific word. "witches?"

"yeah." he didn't elaborate. "my mama made the whol song with me - it started with 'windy road'. i miss her a lot. i haven't seen her since my mother took me away."

wanda's eyebrows knitted together. "who's mother? who's mama?"

"okay. mother is rio. she's who we're waiting for. mama is agatha."

"agatha?" her heart started to fill with dread.

"agatha harkness."

oh. but before she could recoil, a gap opened up in front of her, like a tv screen or perhaps a window.

her view was initially covered by foliage, which then parted to reveal a teenage boy lying on the ground, passed out. his shirt was torn, blood gushing out of a wound. he had curly hair and black eyeliner, but wanda recognized him immediately. not by appearance, no - she couldn't understand who this boy was - but for whatever reason she knew in her heart that this was billy.

wanda's black-tipped fingers pressed to her mouth, eyes filling up once more with unshed tears. then her eyes found agatha, and rage welled up in her until she realized that the other witch, too, had tears in her eyes.

"don't." agatha whispered to a woman clad in green. nicholas pointed at her. "that's who we're waiting for. but i think she's too busy to get you herself."

the image closed and wanda found herself staring at nothing again.

"what?" the scarlet witch breathed out, looking at the boy, confused.

"death," he said, "is also a name my mother goes by."

he stood up, extending his hand. "i'm sorry i can't explain more, too. but i think we should go."

"t-to where?" she accepted his hand and got up too.

but the son of death and agatha harkness only smiled at the scarlet witch. "on."

wanda sent a last look to the spot where the vision had just been. weight she didn't know was there lifted from her heart, for her enemy is now there to protect one of her sons, and her enemy's own now holds her hand. she must return the favor.

and so they walked.

a/n: im not satisfied but i randomly had the vision and had to put it down. might make a headcanon version cuz itll be easier

[googleitlol]

Aaaah, I’m sorry if I’m bothering you with all these asks, but I have to know this! How would Black Myth Wukong go with Dove in it, considering the story? Especially with what happened to the original Wukong and her potential interactions with the Destined One?

OOOOOOOH THIS ONE IS INTERESTING!! Also, don't ever apologise for giving me asks to answer, I love yapping so you're doing me a favour. Also I hope you know the vault of angst and depression you just opened

Ok so just letting you know, I have two different endings for PoM I may go with: a happy ending… and a less happy ending. Since I'm already feeling depressed, I'm gonna answer this as though the less happy ending is what happens. In it, Dove gains immortality (but for reasons I won't disclose yet) and is separated from everyone forever, including Wukong. He can't even try to save her because, well… spoilers.

I know the basics of the game lore so sorry if I get anything wrong/misunderstand anything, but this is how I think it'd go. Also, spoilers under the cut for Black Myth Wukong.

TW: Suicide

So from my understanding, the Destined One isn't technically Wukong, but he inherits his memories by the end of the game. With that in mind, I see this going similar to what I've seen of Wukong finding a reincarnated reader, but reversed.

Dove eventually escapes the place she is trapped in, but by the time she makes it back to Flower Fruit Mountain to find Sun Wukong… the worst has already happened. Erlang is the one who tells her how Sun Wukong ended his life, his final plan to free himself from the Heaven's grasp.

Before being separated, Dove had already learned some hard truths from Guan Yin about events concerning her past. Learning about what her master had been keeping secret from her, and then the relief of seeing her love again being crushed by the reality of his suicide, it breaks her. She had spent years fighting to get back to her Peaches, to the one that she could always depend on. He was with her when she learned about Guan Yin's secrets, they had to drag him away from her the day they were separated– it hits her then, the last moment she ever saw him was when he was in pain, clawing at demons that pulled him further away from her. The last she ever saw of those beautiful sunset eyes… they were filled in anguish and rage.

After learning of Sun Wukong's fate, Dove grows bitter and cold. She doesn't return to Potalaka Mountain– she can't stand to be in the presence of any of the deities anymore, not even the one who raised her. Who lied to her. Moksa checks in on her every now and then, from a distance, she won't talk to him either. It's a pitiful sight, how she becomes a shell of her former self. Dove cuts contact with nearly everyone and travels the road on her own, helping people where she can, but no task she does is ever enough to distract her from that emptiness that takes root inside. It's painful, and no matter how hard she tries, that pain won't go away.

Then, by chance, she comes across a monkey demon.

Confusion is the first word that comes to mind when describing her reaction to seeing the Destined One for the first time. Maybe her mind is just playing tricks on her again… but this doesn't feel like she's seeing things. He feels real. Dove has already gone through the emotional ups and downs of meeting a reincarnated loved one before, but this is different. It's different because it's Sun Wukong. There has never been another like him.

She does suppose the same holds true once she spends more time with the Destined One, he isn't like Sun Wukong. He's more… stoic. He doesn't say much, and compared to the talkative Monkey King, it's a little unnerving at first. Is this really the person she loves? It's a question she struggles with as she goes through the game with him, helping him. Travelling with the Destined One, it's almost reminiscent of the original journey. That's what Dove tells herself, anyway.

Whether or not it really is him, it's safe to say any reincarnated/reborn Monkey King would be falling for Dove pretty hard. I'm still figuring out how the Destined One would be around her at first, maybe he's a little put off by this strange immortal woman who decided to tag along with him. She's helpful, so he doesn't mind the company, but that doesn't stop him from wondering why she's with him. Maybe there's one night where she's helping him recover from a serious fight, probably scolding him for something reckless he did as she works her magic and all he can do is frown. Why does she care so much about him?

Whether he can understand her motives or not, he does appreciate it. Having another person to face these hardships with, someone who has his back through the toughest battles and his lowest moments, he's never had that before. Or maybe, it's just something he's missed. It's strange, how she is able to comfort him. Not just because of her tranquil power, it isn't necessarily her calming aura that puts his mind to rest… there's something deeper, something that tugs at his chest and pulls him to her. This longing to be near her.

He wants to know more, ask why she's so intent on helping him, but Dove is good at avoiding questions, she's constantly guarded around him. The Destined One likely wouldn't pry as much as Wukong would in this situation, but his curiosity still kills him inside. Instead of getting his answers from her, he starts finding the answers in his head, with educated guesses. Maybe Dove was just so awe-struck by his handsomeness that she decided to help him in any way she can, on the spot. He liked that theory 😏

As their journey continues, they do warm up to each other more. Maybe they pass through a village in the midst of a celebration and Dove manages to convince the Destined One to dance with her. Sun Wukong did the same for her all those years ago. Maybe one night after setting up camp for the night, the Destined One begins to comb through her hair, not thinking too much of it since it's normal for other monkeys to preen through one another's hair, it's a show of his affection.

Dove is usually so guarded, but in that moment her walls come crumbling down. She tries to push down her silent sobs, but it's difficult. Sun Wukong was the last person to go through her hair like this, and the simple action brings back so many fond memories. When he realises she's crying, he stops but she grabs his hand before he can fully pull away.

"Don't stop, please. It's okay, I'm… I'm okay."

Maybe he pulls her close after that, holding her in his arms as she does the same. There's so much pain in her heart, and all he wants is to take it away. The only question is, how?

By the end of the game where the Destined One gains all of Wukong's memories, so many of Dove's actions become clear to him. She can see in his eyes when he looks at her, a new hint recognition in his features as she realises who she really is, who she was to Sun Wukong.

Even by this point, Dove is conflicted over her feelings for the Destined One. She's come to love him throughout their journey, but is it the same love? Or is there some part of her brain convincing her it has to be the same, that this is the same man she fell in love with. Does she love this new Monkey King, or the memory he represents?

If one thing is for certain, the Destined One is confident in his feelings for her. Even before receiving those memories, he had been falling for Dove with every moment they spent together. If anything, these memories only make his love for her stronger, knowing what they've been through in a past life, how she stayed by him through this new journey because of their past.

…But he can't be sure whether she feels the same. Not when he still doesn't know if he is Sun Wukong, or just holds his memories now. It's something they'd have to work through and figure out together, but one thing is for certain. Dove doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon.

[spahhzy]

In a land far away, in a time long, long forgotten in a forest once teeming with life, now abandoned by even the nost staunchest of predators, laid one old cabin.

Inside the cabin in the living room sat two individuals. One was cloaked in darkness, with lower half of their face being illuminated by the moon and the other...

: Are you happy?

: How have you been since...the loss?

: Do you feel as though you have been...forgotten?

: Do you even remember who you are?

Lifeless silver eyes stared at the figure in front of them. Her cape lay draped over her own chair as she sat curteously. Her face was just blank.

Ruby: I'm nobody.

The figure smiled.

: There you are!

Silence came briefly.

: How did it feel when your lover died?

And it the silence was shattered.

Ruby squeezed her hands tightly as her face morphed into one of sorrow and grief.

Ruby: Like the most important thing in my life... was taken away from me.

The figure remained silent but used one of their hands as a sign for Ruby to continue.

Ruby: Like, nothing was ever going to matter again...

Silence once again fell over them, but just as quickly, the figure asked another question.

: Don't you think you're exploiting Jaune's legacy?

Ruby: All I've ever wanted... was to be a hero... he did, too, and we both looked up to each other... both pushed each other to be our very best...it was only natural that we fell in love...

Ruby: We worked our entire careers, our lives, and with our own teams... until finally we were able to work together... we had made it, we were there! From being Beacons best, side by side...to becoming two of the great heroes of Remnant...

Ruby: it was supposed to be the happiest times of our lives.

Ruby looked as though she was lost in her memories as a serene smile graced her face, but as quickly as it had come, it vanished and was replaced once again with the all to familiar sorrow and anguish.

Ruby: And then it was stripped from me...he was taken from me! Why was he taken? Why was this bright, warm shining beacon of hope and light taken from me!?

The figure continued staring at Ruby, the smile so present on their face.

Ruby: There is no one on this planet that feels more hurt than me from his loss. Not one person on Remnant or in the EVERAFTER feels what I feel!

Her silver eyes were once dull and lifeless.

began to sparkle and shimmer in anger.

Ruby: And what am I supposed to do now? Let him become a mausoleum? Let people forget what he stood for? What he fought for!? What he believed in!?

Ruby was standing up from her chair towering over the figure, who was still smiling.

Ruby: They tried to forget me, they tried to forget US... but WE made them remember... we made them ALL remember.

Ruby sat back down in her chair as she radiated power from her silver eyes, half of her face hidden in the darkness as she looked at the figure across from her.

Said person finally made a move of acknowledgment as their body moved into the moons' light, the darkness that had been covering the top half of their face, now fully illuminated.

... only to reveal... another set Silver eyes only these ones were dipped with swirls of madness that could only be described as chaotic.

Ruby didn't even flinch at seeing this, nor did she react to the older looking version of her, as the older Ruby Rose just smirked.

Withered Ruby Rose: Yes, We Did!

-

Yang couldn't understand, nor could Blake or Weiss.

When she got the distress call that a village was under attack, she assumed it would be the remaining few Grimm was left after Salem's defeat, but when Weiss questioned one of the victims on what had happened, she didn't want to believe it, nor could could the rest of her team.

Why would her sister attack a village... no, there had to be some trick, a horrible lie! Sure, she hadn't seen her in a while after Jaune died, but it surely wouldn't have come to this....killing innocent people and destroying a village.

But more and more people kept confirming her fears, a monster dredged in a blood red cape, wielding a scythe bathed in blood.

It wasn't until they had gotten to the village center that the worst outcome possible for Yang came to fruition.

Their at the center of the fire and destruction.

Stood her sister, Ruby Rose, who had their back turned to them.

Yang: Ruby! What's going on? Where have you been?

Ruby was silent.

Weiss: Did you cause all this destruction?

Ruby again said nothing.

Blake: Did you attack these innocent people?

...Ruby began to laugh. It started out soft at first, before it quickly delved into a full-blown fit of madness.

Ruby: Innocent? you think these people are innocent?

Yang: R-ruby?...

Ruby: These villagers were far from innocent, Blake!

Weiss: Ruby, their are women and children who are hurt, who -

Ruby: They suffer from the sins of their fathers and mothers before them, Weiss.

Blake: Ruby, do you even hear yourself right now? Are you being controlled or something?

Ruby just shook her head.

Ruby: No, Blake, I'm a sound of mind and full of clarity!

Yang: Wh-Ruby, stop this-this isn't you! What would Jaune think!?

Ruby: Keep his name out of your mouth, Yang, you didn't know him like I did, you didn't LOSE him like I did.

Weiss: Why-why are you doing this then, Ruby?

Ruby: I made a solemn vow on the day Jaune died that I wouldn't let him be forgotten...

Ruby: that I wouldn't let what made this world shine brighter than any flame be snuffed out

Ruby: You can feel it can't you guys the world being cast in an ever dark veil after Jaune's death?

Yang, Weiss and Blake looked at each other not understanding what Ruby was talking about.

Ruby: I plan to bring his light back to this world!

Turning to them, they could only see the swirls of madness in those silver eyes, and as it seemed, the grief of losing Jaune Arc was too much for Ruby Rose - supposed to be Ruby Rose Arc, to bare.

Ruby:

Ruby: I will make Jaune's light eternal!

[pastanest]

post-prison Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

WARNING: references to an abusive relationship but no graphic descriptions

If You Ask

For the months that Doctor Spencer Reid spent in prison, his guiding light was the thought of you. It was a form of enlightenment, he concluded, that regardless of how dark his days and his mind got, surrounded by grey walls and people that truly hated him, one thought of you was the only anaesthetic he needed to help him sleep.

He understood the psychology of dreams, but it took him some time to admit to himself what exactly his subconscious was trying to tell him when each and every night, he dreamt of seeing you walk into the office and greeting him with a smile, or sitting beside you on the jet, or standing beside you at the coffee machine. Spencer’s favourite dreams were memories stored in his subconscious of the kindest things you’d said to him. He would often wake up in his cell with tears on his face because the anguish of coming to terms with the same reality of not being able to see you was simply too much to bare.

The grey that surrounded him had been the worst thing to face every morning, because you filled his life with so much colour from the moment you met him.

Two days after Spencer’s 25th birthday, you had sped into the office particularly early, in quite the rush. Spencer had to do a double take when he saw you, not only because you were running at him, but also because you were wearing some brown corduroy dungarees with sunflowers embroidered on them and a white t-shirt underneath, a bright smile on your face despite the fact you had never seen Spencer before.

“Good morning!” You had said, breathless.

Spencer couldn’t withhold the smile that you brought to his face. “Good morning, I’m Doctor Spencer Reid…who are you?” He asked, trying to speak as gently as possible because he honestly feared the slightest harsh tone would dampen the sunshine you brought.

“Hello Doctor Reid! I’m (Y/N), I’m starting today but, uh, I hoped I’d be here before everybody else, just to get my bearings- not that it’s a bad thing that you’re here, of course! Sorry, it’s really nice to meet you!” You rambled sweetly, before holding your hand out to him.

Spencer gave you his usual nervous smile and wave. “The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering, it’s actually safer to kiss.” He recited, but as the weight of his words dawned him, his cheeks flushed pink, having not thought about how much he would like the sound of the latter.

He expected an awkward reaction from you, as that was what he usually received, but instead, you giggled as you retracted your hand to dig through your handbag and retrieve some hand sanitiser. Once you had rubbed the cleansing fluid into your hands as thoroughly as you could, you smiled at Spencer, not a trace of sarcasm or malice in your eyes.

“Does that make you more comfortable with shaking my hand, rather than kissing me? We have only just met, after all. If you still feel like kissing me when you actually know me, all you’ve got to do is ask.” You grinned at him, holding your hand out to him again, and with a bright smile, Spencer shook it. 

The team had spent years teasing Spencer about how obvious his feelings for you were, forever telling him that he should just ask you out, as though that was a casual request and not a terrifying, life-altering question. He had never felt more confronted by his own feelings than he did when he was stuck in a cell and could only focus on what he would say to you when he did get out. 

He thought about all the times you had complimented him so obviously and how he wished he had swept you off your feet in a kiss each and every time; how you had asked him every time you wanted to hug him whether he would be comfortable with it and how he should have just told you that you were always the exception to his usual discomfort towards physical contact; how you never failed to laugh at his jokes or back him up when the team tried to tease him for the things he knew that you only ever found to be fascinating. Spencer knew that he had always appreciated you, he had never pushed you away or been cruel to you, he had simply been too scared to ever progress your relationship in the way he had desperately wanted to.

Unfortunately, when Spencer did get out of prison, he immediately made a horrifying discovery. Spencer’s profiling instincts were screaming at him from the moment he returned to the office, seeing you in darker, longer clothes, instead of your usual bright and colourful ones that he was forever complimenting you on. To the man that knew you better than anyone, the bags under your eyes were only one of many signs that you were exhausted, emotionally and physically, and that something was very, very wrong.

He stood at the office entrance for a while, watching as you seemingly instinctively brought a coffee to his desk, which was absolutely covered in sticky notes. The top, sides and back, from what he could see, every square inch was covered, save for the space that you seemed to save to set his coffee down, despite not knowing the exact date he was due to be released; you always made him one, just in case. He watched as you wrote on a new sticky note and found a place on his desk to attach it, then disappeared to the staff bathroom with tears in your eyes.

Of course, you had still been overjoyed to see him standing at his desk and drinking the coffee you had made him, reading the dated sticky notes you had written him, telling him everyday that you were thinking of him, missing him, wishing he was here, sometimes referencing specific memories or inside-jokes between you that you had thought of that day. It was the most beautiful gesture he had ever seen. You had run into his arms, and the two of you had cried into each other with nothing to say, too overwhelmed by the simple feeling of being back together, but there was something in the way, an invisible barrier in front of you that had not been there before. 

Once he had calmed you down and wiped the last of your tears, Spencer met with Emily Prentiss in her office, a stern frown etched into his features.

“What happened?” He had asked bluntly, needing to know whether it was something that had happened on a case or something outside of work so that he could formulate a plan to lift that invisible barrier and remind you that he was here, he was back, for you above anything else.

Emily had sighed. “She’s been...lost. Since the day you left, she hasn’t been herself, but when she started seeing this guy, things got so much worse.”

That sentence alone was enough to shatter Spencer’s heart, but when Emily went into grave detail about the number of times you’d found a quiet place to cry while on cases or in the office, the way you had retreated into yourself and would no longer sit with anyone on the jet, just staring out of the window until you were back on the ground - Spencer felt every fragment of his heart sink lower than he thought possible. 

That evening, there was a knock at your front door. You rubbed your puffy eyes and wiped your tears as you opened the door, immediately appearing like a deer in headlights because Spencer Reid was on your doorstep. Images of him through the years you’ve known him with different haircuts and expressions, standing on that very doorstep, flashed in your mind, before you could settle on the present version of him standing there. The look on his face and the way your eyes darted down both sides of the street before you spoke to him, communicated very clearly to both of you that this was not to be like any night you’d spent watching movies together, cuddled up on your couch.

“Is he here?” Spencer asked bluntly. 

You blinked rapidly, though you shouldn’t have been surprised that he already knew. “N-No.”

He had never heard you speak to him so timidly. It was more painful than every injury he sustained in prison.

“Is he going to be?” Spencer rephrased his question, and as soon as you nodded, Spencer gestured inside your home. “May I come in?”

Despite the fear that was clearly eating away at you, you trailed into your home and Spencer followed, closing and locking your front door before following you into your living room, where you had cowered in a corner of the very couch that was once a comforting place for the two of you to wordlessly express your love for each other in the sweetest and most innocent affections.

Spencer grabbed a chair and slowly moved it to sit in front of you, not wanting to startle you in your fragile state. Your hands were bundled up in the long sleeves of your sweater, which swallowed most of you. Spencer held your gaze, a sincerity in his eyes that was so familiar to you, you didn’t have the strength to avoid it.

“If you don’t want to talk, you don’t have to, just give me one answer- and you don’t even have to say it, you can nod, shake your head, whatever is most comfortable for you, is that alright?” Spencer was speaking as gently as he could, wanting to remind you that you were always, always safe with him.

Clinging to his every word, you nodded, and Spencer reciprocated.

“Do you want me to make sure he doesn’t come back?” 

The question was a weighted one and unclear in its exact implications, but as you stared into Spencer’s eyes, you knew he meant every syllable more than he had ever meant anything in his life. 

As you lifted your head to nod, there was a sound of your front door unlocking, and you froze. Tears stung your eyes as you frantically glanced from Spencer to the living room doorway and, having lost the ability to answer in the way you had intended, you rolled your long sleeve up to show Spencer the deep purple, fingerprint shaped bruises that gripped your forearm. 

Spencer gave you one, final nod, before he stood up in front of you and turned to the doorway. Your human shield.

Seconds later, some poor excuse for a man strolled into your living room, his own key dangling from his hands. His beady eyes locked onto you, then slowly travelled up the tall form that stood between you and him, a very visible barrier. 

“The hell’s this?” There was an edge to the creature’s voice as he spoke to you and Spencer immediately decided he would wipe this man off of the face of the earth for speaking to you like that. 

Though Spencer couldn’t see you, he could all but feel the way you trembled behind him, too afraid to answer. 

With his hands in his pockets, his steely gaze forced the creature to avoid his eyes. “Doctor Spencer Reid. Who are you?”

The sleaze scoffed, trying to peek around Spencer to look at you, but Spencer adjusted his stance to block him out again. If there had ever been someone undeserving of the privilege of looking at you, it was the only other man in your living room.

“This is Spencer?” He laughed. “Nowhere near as impressive as you made him out to be, (Y/N)!”

Spencer tilted his head to the side, deducing everything he could from the specimen before him. “Do you truly believe that everyone you meet exists solely to impress you, or is your inflated ego damaging your understanding of other people and the lives they lead that will never have anything to do with you?”

Finally, the creature seemed to address Spencer directly. “What did you say to me?”

Spencer stood up straight, crossing his arms over his chest. “My apologies, allow me to rephrase my findings in a way that a brain as underdeveloped as yours can comprehend: The majority of the people on this planet don’t know or care about you, or any of your opinions; the fact that you assume I do is very telling of the kind of person you are, along with your inability to look me in the eye making it incredibly obvious that the aforementioned ego entirely rests on tearing down those around you. Had you kept that problematic behaviour under wraps, perhaps you’d be lucky enough not to cross paths with me, but you just couldn’t resist harming the only person that makes the pain of being a good person, worth it to me. Now, I have no motivation to pity you or divulge the empathy that she inspires in me, so what happens next is entirely your own doing.” 

Not giving the idiot any time to respond, Spencer lifted his phone to his ear. “Garcia? Yeah, we were right, go ahead.” With that, he hung up and slipped his phone back in his pocket, frowning at the creature once again. “If it’s any consolation to your ego, the cop car that the team will be bringing with them when they arrive in 10 minutes will be here especially for you. We took the liberty of digging up your sealed records, Adam - I hope you don’t mind me using the name you failed to give me in person, but it’s important to acknowledge that the evidence we have on you has that very name all over it - and you are going to be locked away for as long as I can make possible. When you do inevitably get released, I’ll be watching you for the rest of your life to make certain that no job you ever get is capable of sustaining you in the long term and that every person you ever have more than one passing conversation with is sent a direct copy of your criminal history. I’ve also registered you to over 100 charities dedicated to helping survivors of abuse, equating to at least 50% of your total income - with encrypted passwords that you’re *incredibly unlikely* to be capable of guessing - and if I were you, I’d never try to stop those donations, because our technical analyst is keeping tabs on them. For the pain you have caused (Y/N) during the time I’ve been away, I am going to ruin the rest of your life without breaking a single law.”

The rage contained between the two men was very different. Adam made his anger obvious to try and scare you and intimidate Spencer - at which, he failed miserably. Spencer, on the other hand, was as cold as ice, every sentence further salt to the wounds he had already inflicted. 

The idiot actually took a step towards Spencer, then, in an attempt to frighten him, but when Spencer took the two strides necessary to stand toe to toe with him and stare him down, Adam realized his mistake, only made clearer by Spencer’s next words.

“Please, give me a reason to break something other than a law. If you think I won't go back to prison, for her, you really are the most unintelligent excuse for a human being I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting.” Spencer’s voice was hauntingly low. 

In the distance, sirens could be heard, and Spencer held a hand out behind him. “(Y/N), would you mind if I took the trash out?” 

He asked you, not lifting his steely gaze from Adam. Leaning forward, you took hold of Spencer’s hand and gave it a squeeze, bringing the first smile to Spencer’s face that he felt in his heart since he went to prison. 

He squeezed your hand back, so gently, then abruptly let go to grab the back of Adam’s collar and throw him down, using his grip to drag him out of your home and kick him onto the street.

“Wherever you go, everyday for the rest of your life, I will be right behind you. If you ever so much as think of her again, after what you did to her, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.” Spencer threatened with an eerily calm voice, safe to do so because you were out of earshot. 

Adam sputtered from his place on the ground, where he belonged, and as the police car pulled up outside of your house, Spencer speed walked back through your front door and into your living room, finding you sobbing into your hands. That sight broke his heart more than anything else could ever hope to try.

Spencer crouched down in front of where you sat on the couch, his chest aching. “Sweetheart, please, look at me, I’m right here.” He told you, his voice so sincere it almost hurt you to hear. 

Slowly lowering your hands from your face, Spencer didn't hesitate to hold them in his own, rolling your sleeves up enough to hold your hands in his.

“I’m s-so sorry, Spencer, I never should have-” You began, but Spencer shook his head, not about to let you blame yourself for any of this.

“You have nothing to apologize for, (Y/N), I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you sooner. I’m so sorry that I was gone for so long.” He apologized, knowing that he had gone to jail for the right reasons, but having never intended to hurt you by doing so.

The gravity of his absence and what he could have gone through in prison caused your bottom lip tremble and before Spencer could register what you were doing, you crawled from the couch to his lap, the two of you sitting on the floor and holding each other so tightly, shattering whatever invisible barrier had come between you.

“I thought about you all the time.” He sniffled into your shoulder as he held you, enveloped by the familiar scent of you, of his home. 

You cried harder at the thought of Spencer missing you so much, being so far away, while you were missing him just as much in a world that was truly dead in his absence. 

“I’m sure that you noticed, but your desk was exactly as you left it, save for the sticky notes. I…wouldn’t let any of the cleaners tidy it, I did it everyday, making sure that everything was left exactly as you’d last used it, so that it was like you were there only yesterday.” You chuckled bashfully through your tears, absentmindedly playing with Spencer’s hair to calm him. 

Spencer managed to laugh with you. “I did notice, yes, and that was ridiculously sweet of you, along with the notes.”

Pulling away from him slightly, you hold his face in your hands. “I think your absence may have created an unhealthy co-dependency, going forward.”

Spencer smiled at you. “I couldn’t agree more.”

You giggled at that, his absolute favourite sound since the day you met. “I don’t mind.”

Spencer couldn’t stop himself from grinning, the two of you having fallen right back into the bond you had before he went to prison, like nothing had ever separated you.

“I don’t, either.” He said, both of you all too aware of the fact you are going to be attached at the hip from now on.

You grinned at him then, and it was like the sunshine peeking through clouds that had filled his skies for far too long. “I’ve been waiting over a decade for you to ask me something, Doctor Reid, and I know your magical memory hasn’t forgotten.”

Immediately, he knew exactly what you were referring to - of course he did - Spencer’s brain was finely tuned to you, always able to decipher every subtext to everything you said and did; you were his favourite study in the universe, after all.

His heart skipped a beat at your reference and he couldn’t believe it, but he gulped, like he was the boy he was on the day you met, blushing at the thought of getting to kiss you someday.

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked, not questioning whether you were sure he would remember, because you both knew he did, but whether you were certain you wanted him to ask. 

At that, you beamed at him. “Spencer, I’ve had over a decade to deliberate and my answer hasn’t changed since the day we met.”

And his heart soared at your words, it beat to life in a way that only you could make it, pounding against his chest.

“Then…” He cleared his throat, knowing it was now or never and he was not going to shy away from this, even if his face was flushed as he asked, “I do still feel like I would rather kiss you than shake your hand, so…may I?”

You didn’t give him a verbal answer. In fact, he had barely finished asking before you all but launched yourself at him, pulling Spencer’s lips to yours and kissing him like you really had been waiting your entire life to do it, because you absolutely had. Spencer’s hands found your hips and he kissed you back like a man starved, feeling the parts of him he never thought he would see again return to him, your kiss breathing life back into him. The look in your eyes as you pulled away from him told him that when you looked at him, you could still see the boy he was on the day you met. He was still him, and always would be, to you.

It is safe to say, that was far from the only kiss you exchanged that night. Spencer had actually promised you that, despite it being scientifically improbable, he would kiss away every mark on your body left on you by a man that never deserved you, and he would only ever leave you with marks of love, if you asked very nicely.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Love Rekindled

Hii, i hope you enjoy this second chance one-shot about Daniel Ricciardo :)

"It will only hurt this much right now." That's what I thought when Daniel and I broke up five years ago, but now as I walk into the paddock for my first day as the new DAZN journalist, I realize I might need my whole life to get over him. Don't get me wrong, I've tried going out and dating other people, but it never feels right. I try to control my nerves as I look around the paddock, a place I’ll never get used to. The energy is already buzzing through the atmosphere. As I climb the stairs toward my new office, I lose my balance and crash into someone. "Max, oh my God, I'm sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going," I nervously apologize. "Y/N? What are you doing here? I haven't seen you since, well, you know," Max says, surprised. "It's actually my first day as the new journalist for DAZN," I say, trying to improve the mood since he was now referring to Daniel's and my breakup. "Well, in that case, congratulations. You deserve it. I guess I'll see you around," Max says as a goodbye since he’s being called. "Bye, I guess I'll see you later for the interviews," I say as I wave him goodbye and get ready for said interviews.

"Daniel, I swear it was her," Max confirms to his friend. Emotions rush through Daniel's brain; it's been years since the last time they saw each other, but he hasn't forgotten about her for a moment. She’s always on his mind, even when all he wanted was to forget about how much he loved her and how much he hurt her when he broke up with her. Five years ago, it made sense in his head—he was leaving Red Bull and needed space to think. However, as the years have gone by, he realizes it was a mistake to let her go. "If it really was her, I need to find her. It's time we talk, and maybe, if I'm lucky, she can find it in her heart to let me back into her life. I have an idea, but I'll need your help."

I've been trying to work for the past hour but the only thing on my mind is Daniel and what should I tell him if I see him, but I have no more time to dwell on it since I need to get ready for the interviews with the drivers. As I walk into the elevator to go into the paddock a voice that lately I've only heard in my dreams calls out "Hold the doors". A lot of emotions curse through you as Daniel walks into the elevator. Daniel’s eyes widen with surprise, a mix of shock and recognition filling his gaze. "Y/N? What are you doing here?" You hesitate for a moment, your heart pounding, then look away to avoid his piercing eyes. "I'm the new journalist for Dazn, I'm sorry if me being here is an inconvenience but it's a huge opportunity for me," you say softly. Daniel’s eyes soften, and he closes the distance between you, his voice dropping to a tender whisper. "It’s great for you…don't worry about me I'm actually glad cause I've missed you, every day." You finally meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with a mixture of pain and longing. "Thanks. It’s been a while." Daniel’s expression turns earnest, his voice trembling slightly. "It has. "Daniel, it’s in the past. We both moved on, right?" I say trying to be as professional as possible. He winces, his eyes reflecting deep remorse. "I haven't, I never stopped loving you" Your heart skips a beat, the intensity of his words breaking through your defences. "Loving? You broke up with me, Daniel. You were the one who walked away." Daniel’s shoulders slump, anguish written all over his face. "I thought I was doing the right thing, I was going through a lot of chances and didn't want to bring you down with myself. But I was a fool." You take a deep breath, the memories of your past flooding back with vivid clarity. "Daniel, this job means everything to me. I can’t let our history get in the way." He nods, understanding the gravity of your words but desperate to hold on to something. "I get it. I won’t interfere. But can we try to be friends? I don’t want to lose you completely." You hesitate, uncertainty is evident in your eyes as your heart battles with your mind. "I don’t know if we can just be friends, Daniel. There’s too much between us." Daniel’s brown eyes shimmer with hope and vulnerability. "Please. Let's start somewhere. One step at a time." You nod slowly, a tear escaping down your cheek, your voice barely above a whisper. "One step at a time." Daniel reaches out, gently brushing the tear away with his thumb, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I promise. I’ll be here. Waiting."

[loupy-mongoose]

Fuji stood in silence, the two Mews and the little Mewtwo floating in front of him. Randy's widened, horrified eyes locked onto Fuji's, neither seeming sure how to go on.

Finally, Fuji shook his head lightly and turned away. No... It... I-It has to be a dream... It's too... too surreal... Another Mewtwo, with Mo of all Mews... It has to be a dream...

Lavender floated toward him, casting a nervous look at her parents. I-It's not... I'm sorry... She gently reached out and touched his arm. We're real, and we're here...

Fuji steadily met her gaze. Then the gentle man turned from her to Randy. He looked long and hard at the pink Mew, and in the little bit of his consciousness that wasn't panicking or wishing to wake from this sudden nightmare, Randy thought he saw a lifetime flash in the man's eyes.

Finally, Fuji spoke. You aren't Mo, are you...

Randy felt as if his heart had been stabbed, and his blood went cold. Thoughts flooded uninvited into his mind.

How many times had he tried to convince himself that over the last five years?

How many times had he looked at himself in the mirror, wishing he would one day wake up with his old brown eyes, to find it had all been a cruel dream?

How many times had he been fine, only to be slammed with the fact that he was Mo...?

In his hesitation, Akoya answered for him. He's not... But we knew him...

Fuji's gaze darkened. Suddenly it makes sense why you'd know about Nico...

Randy, who could feel his attention being washed away by his anxiety, snapped back at those words. He vaguely noticed his wife's pelt puff up again.

His voice shook. ...What do you mean...?

Fuji looked at him questioningly. ...Wait, you didn't learn about him from Mo?

Randy felt a twinge in his mind. Mo... hadn't told him... right?

Surly he would remember that...

He... never mentioned him, no....

Fuji's eyes grew sad. I guess that makes sense too... He wasn't exactly happy about Nico...

So Mo knew him? How?

Fuji's gaze drifted into a time long passed. He took a breath and closed his eyes. Mo's DNA was used to create Nico... As an attempt to find a way to bring Mews back from extinction...

But... when he saw what was coming from it... He left...

And... I don't blame him...

His eyes bore into Randy. Are you related to him, at least? You look so much like him...

Randy's ears fell back, and his brows creased together. His voice was shaky and hoarse. ...I.... ah....

Akoya floated close to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. He turned to her, fighting his daze of rising anguish, and anchored himself in her rich, sapphire eyes.

As he took a reassuring breath, Akoya turned back to Fuji. Are we still welcome to stay in your guest room? Or has that offer changed, now that you've seen what we are?

Fuji gave her a warm smile, though his eyes were still clouded with questions and his old memories. My arms and house are open to those in need. People and Pokemon alike. An eyebrow raised questioningly. Or... In between...? He shook off that train of thought. And I'd say you guys are in need of at least a place to rest.

Here you are.

The room was pleasant. A good sized bed loomed in the center, painfully inviting, with a short dresser at the foot of it. Two side tables flanked the head.

There are extra blankets and pillows in the dresser there. Make yourselves comfortable.

He gave them a deep, finalizing nod.

Have a good rest.

Akoya smiled at him. Thank you so much, Mr. Fuji. We really do appreciate it. It's just a... Well, it's been a weird day for us, too.

Fuji smiled back at her. He waved farewell, and they close the door.

Randy, now in human form, trudged over to the bed, leaning heavily on his cane. He fell onto it without a word and lay still.

Akoya, still in Mew form, hovered over and psychically repositioned him to be more comfortable. By the time she covered him with the blanket, he was fast asleep.

Lav, also still in her Mewtwo form, asked her mom quietly, Where are the twins?

Akoya looked at her, filled with a warm love and encouragement that Lav hadn't felt in quite awhile. They're with Persim, outside of Lavender. She thought for a moment and giggled. ...I'm not used to saying that word and not having it be about you.

Lav gave a light chuckle, but her mood wasn't lifted. She hugged herself, her tail resting on the floor around her feet. Her expression dropping, Akoya floated over to her.

I messed up, Mom... I didn't want you and Dad to get hurt... She looked at Randy, sleeping soundly on the bed. But he's still the one paying for it.

Akoya wrapped her tail around her daughter's two necks and gave her a hug on the head. She sighed. We all make mistakes, Lav. Some bring more weight than others. But we'll bare it together, okay? We'll work through this. Just remember, we've got your back. She glanced at her mate. And we've got his back.

Lavender gave a small scared smile and nodded.

Akoya pecked her on the cheek and floated away from Lav, toward where her best friend lay sleeping. She stopped and turned to Lav. You're welcome to join us on the bed, if you want.

Lav's tail flicked, and her ears went back. Thanks, Mom, but I think I'll pass...

Akoya gave her a sad but understanding look. Okay. Hey... We love you. Both of us. Very much.

Lav smiled, half-forced. I love you too, Mom.

She watched her mom fly over and disappear behind her dad. She hesitated, then floated over to him herself. She gave him a small kiss on his head, though she wasn't sure he would be aware of it.

Then she gathered some extra blankets and pillows, and floated over to the corner of the room, where she curled up in a makeshift fort and drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START | CHRONO

[mrs-theirin]

Bands break up and lose members all the time. It was bound to happen at some point, right? Dawn's not so sure.

After many discussions, bittersweet memories has made the decision to part ways with our co-singer, Seven Lawless. The decision was supported by both parties, and while it is not easy for any of us, we support Seven on his future endeavors. We ask for respect in our decision and not to speculate on the split. Thank you.

Dawn frowns at the screen. “This is disgusting. I’m going to throw up.”

Rowan groans, running his hands down his face. “What now? This is the 15th revision we’ve written today. You have less trouble writing songs.”

“It’s just cheap,” Dawn says weakly, shrugging. “If this happened to me, I’d feel awful.”

Jazzy takes a slow, deep breath, placing a hand on Dawn’s shoulder. She tries not to flinch away from the touch. “Dawn. We have to tell people somehow.”

“Besides,” Iris cuts in, “who cares how he’s feeling? He’s the one who decided to walk out on us. Not to mention break your heart in the–”

“Iris,” Jazzy hisses. 

Rowan throws his hands up in protest. “What? She’s just saying what we’re all thinking!”

Dawn puts her head in her hands, tuning out the noise. “‘Many discussions’,” she quotes with a bitterness in her voice. “If you can call screaming at each other ‘discussions’.”

“Dawn–” starts Iris, but she shakes her head.

“This is wrong.” She shakes her head again, standing up from her chair. “This is wrong. How do you think Seven is going to feel reading this? He’s going to see it. We know he’s going to see it.”

“He might not,” offers Jazzy. “He probably…well…”

“Has us blocked,” finishes Devyn. “On everything.”

“But what if he doesn’t? What if he sees this and…”

Rowan scoffs, pinching his nose. “What if he what? Dawn, why do we care? He’s gone. The sooner we all realize that, the better. You’ve seen it already. We are better. You have so much more room to shine. You’re awesome! Seven was holding you back and we’re gonna be better as a band going forward.”

Frustration bubbles in Dawn’s chest and the words come flying out before she can stop them. “I’m not the one who wanted this to happen! You all make jabs and send insults his way and claim we’re so much better without him, and how we all should just move on and grow up and let go, but I didn’t want this! When did it ever become about being the best? When did it stop being about loving each other so much we decided to do something crazy together like start a band? Maybe I don’t want to move on! Maybe I don’t want to not care about how he’s feeling! Maybe…Maybe I don’t want to be in a band that sacrifices love for fame.”

The mood in the room shifts instantly. Everyone looks at the ground. Dawn chews on her lip, anxious to take what she said back, to make her friends feel comfortable in her presence, but she refuses. She is allowed to be hurt by the vote. The vote has changed everything, and it’s not right that she has to just sit by and get over it.

A pit begins to form in her stomach. 

“You don’t even care. Why would you let them do that to me?”

“Seven, please, I’m begging you, just listen to me! I didn’t–”

“You don’t mean that,” Rowan says, snapping her out of her thoughts. “I’m sorry for upsetting you, but you don’t mean that.”

Dawn struggles to swallow the lump in her throat. “It’s…hard,” she manages, voice thick. “I can’t–”

Every part of her is on fire. Her eyes burn as she turns away, slamming her finger down on the enter key and sending the post to be published. A wisp of the anguish she’s feeling dissipates as she watches the post disappear. She turns back to Rowan.

“I don’t mean it,” she confirms, talking slowly to keep her sorrow from spilling out. “I just…I can’t…handle this. It’s too…”

She gestures vaguely, and they all nod. She swallows again.

“I miss him,” she admits feebly. “I still–”

Love him. 

She stutters. “I still…”

Love him.

“I’m still getting used to everything,” she says instead, swallowing the pathetic confession. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to lash out.”

“It may not feel like it right now,” says Jazzy, wrapping her arms around Dawn, “but the vote was good for us. Either way, none of us are going to get mad at you for being upset. We’re…”

She looks to the others for help. Devyn clears her throat. “We’re sorry,” she says. “We knew Seven would be upset, but we didn’t expect…”

“Fuck this. I would never do this to you. Ever. I hope you know I never want to see your face again.”

“Seven, please–!”

“It’s okay,” Dawn lies, squeezing Jazzy back before moving away. “We’ll be okay. I mean…now we can try out that new sound we’ve been experimenting with.”

Rowan beams, and everything gets lighter. “Exactly! The Wisps will probably need some time to adjust to the change, but you sound so much better in that style of music. Nothing will be holding us back!”

“Yeah, come on,” says Jazzy, squeezing Dawn’s hands. “Let’s just call it quits for today and go get some ice cream. Yeah?”

Dawn nods. “Yeah. That sounds nice.”

[also found on ao3]

[whizzing-fizzbee]

Flowers on the Grave

Sebastian Sallow x MC Word count: 1,508 Rating: G Themes: loss, sorrow, love, friendship

Summary: After Anne's death, MC reflects on how far they and Sebastian have come since their fifth year. Notes: This is just a short songfic inspired by "Flowers on the Grave" by The Maine. Lyrics are italicized. (Is it annoying when people insert lyrics into fics? I can't decide. Tell me.) Definitely recommend listening to the song to feel the vibe. Not sure if I'll post this to my AO3; just kind of wrote it from boredom.

Despite the heaviness of the moment, the breeze comforted Sebastian Sallow. It reminded him of the person he was mourning because it was just like her – gentle yet assertive. It was a quiet, peaceful morning on the outskirts of Feldcroft. Though Sebastian preferred to stay away from his former hamlet, only one thing could bring him back.

“She loved daisies.”

Sebastian’s gaze remained on the newly erected gravestone but his eyes didn’t register any information to his brain. His mind felt incapable of any thinking, a stark contrast from his usual state of mind.

“She loved daisies,” he repeated. He didn’t know why the sentence was worth repeating, but it comforted him. Probably because it was a fond memory of her.

You lifted your head to offer Sebastian a small, encouraging smile. That was the first time he’d spoken that morning.

Feel the moment all around you. And the quiet that surrounds you. The time you have is sacred. Don't wait around and waste it. They can't take that away from you.

The pain that had seized Sebastian’s body and mind for the previous two days had subsided, leaving him with a new kind of numbness. This was goodbye and he wasn’t prepared for the finality of it all, but somewhere, deep inside the both of you, was a selfish sense of relief.

Anne Sallow was no longer in pain. She passed peacefully in her sleep two nights ago, leaving Sebastian as the sole member of the Sallow family and leaving you and Ominis Gaunt to be his support system just before the start of your seventh year at Hogwarts.

The three of you stood solemnly after Anne’s burial. Her grave site smelled of freshly dug Earth as you laid a bundle of daisies on top of the mound of dirt. The hush that settled over the three of you wasn’t new – you often sat in comfortable silence together – but it felt different. Sebastian felt different. 

Over the past two nights, Sebastian’s grief took many forms. At first he cried in anguish over his dead sister. Then his sorrow shifted to anger, something you were all too familiar with. Finally, he went quiet, which actually scared you more than his previous expressions of grief.

So you handled him the best way you knew how – with gentle kindness, but tough resistance when his words became too cruel or his actions too selfish. You held him as he slept and made it clear you had no intention of ever leaving him.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now,” Sebastian finally whispered, his eyes still on Anne’s gravestone that the two of you transfigured together.

“You don’t need to know right now,” you said. “You just need to know that it’ll all be OK.”

Everything is temporary, even the sorrow that you carry. So tell me, are you OK? You say you are OK. I'm OK now I'm with you.

You reached for Sebastian’s hand to give it a reassuring squeeze, unsure if the gesture even registered with him. It didn’t appear to, but you knew better than to be offended. This was bigger than you.

This was a teenage boy who was forced to grow up far too quickly. He’d been pushed to make tough decisions, some of them impossible and some of them terrible. He’d seen things that many seasoned wizards will never witness. He’d committed the ultimate crime, a sin so terrible, he’d nearly lost everyone and everything for it. Now, he’d lost his twin sister and the only part of his past worth keeping.

You also had suffered loss in the past two years, but none as great as this. Though you had grown to love Anne like a sister, you could never understand a loss like this.

But Sebastian’s hand twitched in yours, a sign of life and a rush of relief. It was his way of saying he was still present with you. He didn’t want you to worry.

'Cause you don't plan life, you live it. You don't take love, you give it. You can't change what is written, so when fate cries, you listen.

“I’m glad she’s no longer hurting,” Sebastian said quietly. You and Ominis nodded, both encouraged by his willingness to speak. “And I’m glad she forgave me. I can’t change what happened and I can’t bring her back, but I can spend the rest of my life trying to make her proud.”

“She loved you,” you pointed out. “Even if her forgiveness took time, she never stopped loving you.”

“It was unconditional,” Ominis added.

And finally, Sebastian’s gaze met yours as you shared a knowing glance.

“I understand,” he said. 

And flowers on the grave of the child that I used to be.

Sebastian’s feelings for you didn’t come to fruition until your sixth year. Of course, he knew they were there. He’d anguished and fought himself over them since the day the two of you took down that troll. But you two spent your fifth year fighting something even bigger, so any feelings beyond your adventures to help Anne and to save wizardkind from Ranrok went undisturbed.

But once the dust of Solomon’s death settled and Ominis and Anne forgave Sebastian, you became focused on returning to a normal teenage life free of death, ravenous acromantulas and goblin rebellions. The only excitement you wanted was solving an occasional Merlin trial or dueling a worthy opponent in Crossed Wands.

Anne’s love for her brother may have been unconditional, but her forgiveness wasn’t. She made Sebastian vow to drop his pursuit in finding a cure for her. You watched him agonize over the agreement but his need to be on speaking terms with his twin prevailed and soon, Sebastian also returned to life as an everyday student.

That’s when Sebastian found life was becoming increasingly difficult around you. Not that he didn’t want you around – he wanted you around all the time, constantly, and that was the problem. His former thoughts of curing his sister were replaced with the constant thought of you.

Soon, he began fighting with the other boys who were vying for your attention until it all came to a head during Potions class when Garreth Weasley asked you to Hogsmeade. Sebastian sent him to the hospital wing covered in boils and when you scolded him, he declared that no one deserved you. You mistook the meaning of his words and during his panicked attempts to clarify his intent, Sebastian kissed you. That was the end of your reign as partners in crime and the start of your journey as two people who needed to be together.

It was summer when you told me that you loved me by the old creek. My ears had never heard that, tongue forgot the words and feet forgot the earth, it's true.

If Sebastian ever needed to conjure a patronus, his happiest memory was the day by the babbling brook. It was early summer before seventh year and he lay with the back of his head in your lap, reading a book as you gazed peacefully at the water.

You glanced downward at the boy in your lap, and though he couldn’t see it with his sight shielded by the book, you smiled. 

“I love you,” you blurted out.

The book snapped shut immediately and went forgotten at Sebastian’s side as his eyes darted upward toward yours.

“What?” he managed.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. How very typical. Ever since Sebastian had made amends with Anne and stopped obsessing over a cure for her, the boyish sides of his personality surfaced. Sure, you’d loved him through his dark intensities when all he could think of was his twin, and when revenge against those goblins had driven him toward dark magic. But his silly, often sarcastic and bemused side had become so endearing to you, you vowed to yourself that you’d do everything in your power to keep him away from that darkness.

'Cause you don't plan life, you live it. You don't take love, you give it. You can't change what is written, so when fate cries, you listen.

“I said I love you, you daft troll,” you repeated.

He grinned stupidly up at you, shifting upward to support his weight back on his elbows. 

“I heard you,” he said. “I just wanted to hear it twice.”

And then he scurried away as you tried to smack him with his own book.

“By the way,” he later told you, after you’d managed to catch up to him and shove him in the water. “I love you, too.”

And flowers on the grave of the child that I used to be.

That moment felt like ages ago, though it’d only been months. Now, that happy memory was temporarily replaced with grief for Anne, but as you stood over her grave to say your final goodbyes, Sebastian’s eyes told you he was no longer driven by darkness.

I was on the verge of breaking down, then you came around.

[memelovescaps]

The first chapter of my new story BENEATH THE SURFACE is available!

Summary:

In the aftermath of the battle of Hogwarts, Harry goes to find Severus Snape's body. A lot of things have changed in his mind when it comes to Snape, and he thinks he deserves to be buried like the hero he is. However, what is his surprise when he finds him alive! And Harry decides that the decent thing to do, and what he wants to do, is to stay and help him heal. A story of healing and recovery, acceptance, friendship, and love. It eventually will become a romance, magical forced bonding story. But it will take a while to get there.

Work in Progress, so bear with me!

Harry then looked at Snape, this time he really looked. The first time he’d been much too anguished and scared to truly pay attention to his condition besides the gushing wound on his neck. But now he could see his sickly pallor. His eyes were sunken with dark bags under them, the raven black hair with a few more streaks of grey than Harry remembered, even if Snape was not even in his forties yet. The thing that surprised Harry more, though, was that Pomfrey had changed Snape out of his black robes, stained with blood and dirt, and had put a hospital gown on him. It was strange and shocking; as if that much bright colour didn’t belong to Snape. Harry snorted, wondering what Snape would think if he saw himself wearing such an awful hospital gown, with its white and beige colours, so far away from the dark black he usually wore. “What I would give to hear you right now, Snape,” Harry muttered under his breath, smirking. And then he grabbed the cloth, wrung it of excess water and placed it on Snape’s forehead. Snape didn’t react, and Harry hoped he could bring some relief to the man who was obviously still in pain. Pain. Harry had never thought that pain would’ve been a constant in Snape’s life. He never thought of the man with other than loathing and contempt, not even when in his first year, he was faced with the truth that he had wanted to save him when it was Quirrell who had been trying to kill him all year long. Over the years, his hatred for the man grew, and since it was obviously reciprocated, Harry never had second thoughts about it. Snape was just hateful, that was just who he was. But now, after seeing his memories… something had stirred in Harry. It wasn’t pity, not exactly. But it was something akin to… understanding, perhaps. Harry had compared himself to Voldemort often, with his hard childhood, and had reached the conclusion that, had it not been for his friends, Harry might have chosen a very different path altogether. But he had found a home at Hogwarts, he had found a safe haven where he could be himself, loved and accepted by people for who he was, rather than a celebrity. Snape hadn’t had that. He'd wanted to escape, to find the safe haven at Hogwarts he himself found, but it had become a place of torture at the hands of bullies like his father. And with the years, he had lost the only friend he ever had. Which, Harry thought, was possibly the thing that tipped him over the edge. What did Voldemort offer him? Acceptance, belonging, respect. Snape was a genius, Harry had no doubt of that, he was inventing spells and improving recipes of Potions when he was barely fifteen. If he had lost everything, why not accept the hand of a man who offered him a place with him, who offered him everything he had desired? Tom Riddle had told him once, he could be very persuasive. And Harry had never realized just how in danger Snape really had been of falling for his trap. Of course he would. Not that that excused him, Harry realized. Snape had a cruel streak that nobody could deny, least of all him, even with this new knowledge he had of him. But he had seen enough of Snape’s memories to know he had spent his entire adult life atoning for his mistakes. And, it also explained his bitterness with life. It didn't excuse him, but to Harry's eyes, it made him... more human, perhaps.

Read more on your website/app of choice:

AO3, Wattpad, Fanfiction.

[gretavanmoon]

an omnipresent force • ch 4

Chapter 4 - DARK ALLIANCE

Jake x female reader

Words: 13K

A/N: Semi-AU// Set six years in the future, the world has decided to cast humankind aside, starting with the poisonous entities that are destroying her the most.

*Thank you to everyone who has shown support for this story that goes a little bit against the grain. I so truly appreciate your little messages of reaction and interest, it's truly what makes me want to keep telling the tale. xoxoxo

Warnings: Dystopian Horror, Cursing, Crying, Suspense, Feelings of Fear and Uncertainty, An Apocalyptic World, Violence (& mention of firearms), Kidnapping, Blood, Death & Dying, Lying, Attacks, Deceit, Panic, Mental Anguish. Smut: Kissing, Heavy Pining, Light Touching

JAKE

“Jake they’re right behind us…” I hear Y/N whisper from over my shoulder as we traipse through the thick field of grasses. A quick glance behind me shows that she’s right- three of the hooded guards are rushing behind us, their bodies floating a bit more quickly than us on our two legs. 

“Fuck,” I gasp, trying my best to pick up the pace and catch up with Sam and Danny who are just a bit ahead of us trying to pull away at fallen branches and thick foliage. I pull her along behind me, just as she had pulled me through the building that’s now lying as a pile of rubble in the distance. 

My mind is rushing with what to do, where to go as I feel them closing in on us in the dusk of the evening. Do we keep running? Do we hide? Do we turn around and fight? Every single survival movie I’d ever seen comes rushing back to my memory, but I’m left without a shred of an idea from the pure exhaustion that I feel in my bones, lulling my mind into a blur of confusion and panic again. I’m smarter than this, I’m better than this… think, Jake…

And then, as if our minds are still tied together with an invisible rope, Sam points to a tree with low branches a bit in the distance, and immediately I know that climbing it will give us an advantage. I nod to him as we duck under a thick thistle, thorns catching my ugly gray sweatshirt as I feel the sweat beginning to pool on my face. 

“Can you climb?” I whisper as quietly as I can to Y/N, watching as Sam uses Danny’s shoulders as leverage to climb and sturdy himself atop the lowest branch. 

“Yes,” she says with confidence, watching as Sam gets his balance and jumps on the branch a few times to test its integrity. Thankfully, the cover of trees has concealed us for just enough time to climb ten or twelve feet high into the tree, all of us running on enough adrenaline to not be afraid of falling. I reach out my hand and help Y/N out onto the highest branch we can reach, and make sure my brothers are safely hidden, as well. I get my balance and hunker down, trying to calm my breathing so as not to give away our location. The air is still blowing cold, and I wonder if these beings have any power to find our hiding place with anything other than sight, but I can’t think of that right now. I’ve got to stay tactful.

As the four of us perch on our respective branches, we watch as the four beings cross below us, their hoods and cloaks still covering their bodies as the thorn bushes are no match for the material they’re made from. I hold my breath as we try to stay as still as statues. I hear them begin to communicate, using a language I’ve never heard before with sounds that don’t sound anything like a human being’s. I’m terrified as I watch them below us, scrambling around as they realize they’ve lost our trail. 

I cover my mouth with my hand as I try and calm myself, my heart beating from my chest as I realize these beings are mirror images of the ones that adorn the cover of our first album. 

They’re real, and they’re right fucking in front of us, trying to do anything but share their wisdom around a stupid campfire. 

Their noises are like the screams of ten people, each one emitting a screech while simultaneously the lowest, deepest bellow. I feel the branches barely shake as we all shudder with fear, and I glance to my brothers, seeing that they’re shaken with just as much terror as I am. 

I feel the branch shake more as the leaves rustle, and my head darts sideways as I realize Danny has lost his balance, holding on for dear life as the thin branch he is standing on has begun to break. “Daniel!” I squeal as I reach out for him, my hand only barely gripping onto his sweatshirt as the branch finally gives way and his fingers slip from their desperate grasp. All the breath leaves my lungs as I watch him tumble through the leaf-covered branches, Sam even falling a few feet just from the knee-jerk reaction of trying to catch him as he falls. 

All three of the beings look up to us, and I know our cover is blown. They rush to gather right where Danny is falling to, his hands and arms reaching out at every turn to try and stop his own fall, but his body weight is no match. He falls with a light thud onto the thick grass, and I watch as the hooded figures swarm him on the ground, their coverings a quick blur as the wind blows them. 

“Daniel!!” Sam wretches as he begins lowering himself quickly, branch by branch. I feel the draw to do the same, I can’t stand by and let them be taken. I feel a fire beginning to burn within myself, much the same as I would guess Y/N felt as she watched these same motherfuckers attack me in the hall just an hour ago. Don’t ask me how I knew it, but I could tell that she was preparing herself to jump just the same as I was. 

“Stay here,” I say to her with a harsh look of ordinance before I begin lowering myself down the damp bark of the tree branches, completely unknowing of what was happening below me. All I know is that I’m not getting separated from them again. I’m not losing them again. 

“No!” she cries. “I’m going with you! I’m not staying here and watching you get–” 

She can’t even finish her sentence as I watch her eyes well with terrified tears, still red and blotched from her cry earlier. I stand on a branch a few feet below her, turning to face her again. “If you stay here, you might be able to come and help us, or you might be able to find your Paps… they might not even know you’re up here. Just stay, please.” She doesn’t realize that I can’t even bear the thought of those things getting ahold of her. Fuck, I don’t even know this woman, and I already don’t want anything happening to her. 

“Jake!!” I hear a curdled scream from Danny on the ground below me, and I jump right back into lowering myself back down the slippery branches. My arms and legs carry me down fast, just like they’d do when I was a kid and we were late getting home for curfew. The first thing I hear is the brash and mind-bending sounds that are coming from those creatures, all surrounding Sam and Danny on the ground. I nearly vomit with fear, and the need to protect my little brothers. I feel my fists ball up, my fingernails crushing into my own skin as my body lurches forward, digging the toes of my boots into the tall grass and dirt to get to them.  

My hands make contact, my head in a rush of overwhelming adrenaline as I feel the fabric of the coat of the one I’d decided to tackle. Just touching it with the palms of my hands burns, but not in a way that makes me jump back in pain. It’s almost like it’s emanating a buzzed glow of energy, lightly zapping at my hands as I push it off of Daniel. I thrash my entire body weight onto it, pushing it over into the grass and expecting to finally be face to face with it, but all I see under the hood is darkness. It’s faceless. 

I expect it to become violent with me, retaliating against my show of authority, but it doesn’t. It lies on the ground as it’s body thrashes and shakes below me, eventually teetering out into a somewhat peaceful relaxed position. And the sound it’s making suddenly isn’t haunting, anymore. Suddenly it sounds familiar, speaking words I recognize in a comforting timbre as I’m struck with surprise. My hands gripped hard on it’s chest, it speaks to me,

“Who… is the wiser… to help us steer?” it asks gently, it’s face still invisible to me.

“What?!” I cry, the familiar words hitting me in the chest. 

“You… you are the wiser…” it answers itself. 

I bite my lips, remembering all the information I’d been given as of late. They want Josh, they want us for the knowledge that they assume we possess. They think we are the wiser, able to use us for the preservation of their own world.  

It’s then that I know for a fact that these beings must most definitely be those who live with one foot in our realm, and one foot in the other. 

“I don’t know shit! And neither do my brothers!” I yell in its face, pinning my hands down harder into its burning chest. “Let us go!”

“You are the wiser…” it repeats, it’s voice sounding like an angelic plea. “You will steer our land of infinite wonders… that lies a billion lightyears from here…”

What in the everliving fuck is this thing talking about? Just then, the burning sensation on my hands becomes more intense, and I can suddenly hear my brothers struggling alongside me with the others. My hands can hardly stand the buzzing heat, but I try my best not to let up on it, keeping it pinned beneath me. My teeth grit as I fight against the raging fire I’m holding on to, to the point where I feel my hands begin to blister. 

“Ah, the wounded warrior…” it says with a sly laugh, as if it’s taunting my pain. “Your world is riddled with scars, come, come with us…” I want nothing more than to strangle the thing with my bare hands, but I can’t seem to move them. 

A strange softness overcomes me as I listen to it, and I feel as if I broke my concentration, I could float away. My body feels lighter, and my mind is suddenly filled with clarity. It’s voice speaks to me like a siren song, luring me in to listen to it, hypnotizing me…

“Get the hell away from him!” Y/N’s voice breaks me from my trance, and my body is knocked sideways and off of the being. I land in the grass, the wetness dripping off of the blades and onto my face, waking me up and bringing me back to reality. I sit up in surprise, finding Y/N straddling the same being that I just was, except it’s bony hands and fingers are now wrapped around her throat. It slaps her, grips her wrists, wraps its hands in her hair with force as it tries to undo itself from her reign. 

And I’m filled with protective rage, all over again. 

“Y/N, NO!!” I slip as I stand, darkness now falling around us. I reach underneath her arms, lifting her off of it and thrusting her back onto the ground. “Its gonna hurt you!!” But just as I get my words out, I watch from my peripheral as something is shot directly through the chest of the being that we were just fighting. It screams its terrifyingly haunting sound, causing the other two to repeat after it. Its chest caves, leaving it quickly lifeless as its limbs fall weakly to the ground. 

Danny and Sam take the opportunity to rise up from their own physical altercations, and just as quickly as the first had happened, two more long objects fly straight through the chests of the other two, making them land with harsh thuds on the wet ground. 

I hear Sam yelp from fear, falling as he crab-crawls backward to us. The four of us sit stunned, looking onto the beings in complete terror as we see them lifeless and unmoving on the ground, the thin sticks emerging straight from their chest cavities. 

“What the fuck, what the fuck? Did something just–” Sam pants, his voice wrought with fear as he grips at his own chest and throat. 

I can’t breathe, I can hardly even speak as I slowly inch closer to them, trying my best to get a closer look. “Jake, no! Back up!” Danny says through heavy breaths. “They could still be–” 

“It’s arrows,” Y/N says quietly from behind us, confirming my suspicion. “Someone shot them…”

“Who did?! What did?!” Sam panics. I begin to shake my head side to side to signal that I don’t know, when I hear what sounds like horse hooves racing on the ground behind us. My first instinct is to run to Y/N, standing in front of her to block her from whatever new impending danger is about to face us. Danny and Sam stand quickly, too, joining at my sides.

The past ten minutes have been like a fever dream, pulling and pushing me through a hundred emotions one after another, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw that very second. My hand reaches behind me and finds Y/N’s, gripping her fingers and interlacing them with mine out of pure fear. 

In front of us, in a glittering red cloud of dust, appears a man on a white horse. Two men, dressed completely in black, are walking behind him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Danny mutters.

“Stay away from us,” I warn him, my voice nervous and shaky, but commanding nonetheless. Y/N’s fingers squeeze into mine. 

The man is ethereal, his skin a rich tone, glittering specks of orange and red as it reflects off the last bit of setting sunlight. His lower half is dressed in white leather and gossamer, with shining gold jewelry adorning his body. His dark hair reaches all the way down to his waist, and his movements are slow and calculated, powerful and confident.

And there, rested across his back, is a wooden bow.

His eyes jerk to me, bright orange as he finally makes sense of my threat. It’s then that I realize he only has one eye. He tilts his head back and laughs, showing all of his bright white teeth. He steps off of his horse, gripping it’s reigns in his hand as he begins stepping toward us, making us retreat. 

“We said don’t come any closer,” Danny says from beside me. It’s then that I remember the two men behind the man on the horse. 

“It’s okay, Jake, he’s on our team,” one of them says as the dust around them settles, the dryness throwing me off as we’re all covered in wet mud. I recognize his voice immediately, as the First. 

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing here,” I ask, feeling a little more at ease that now the men I know only as the First and Second have found us. “What the hell is happening, who is this?”

“Do you not recognize me, Jacob?” the man laughs as he runs his hand along the mane of the horse. “Don’t any of you recognize me?” He glares at each of us intently, his one glowing eye bouncing from one to the next as he looks a little offended. 

“I… think I could take a wild guess…” Sam admits under his breath. 

The man drops the reigns and steps forward, pulling the arrows from the beings’ chests with ease as he inspects them, sliding them all back into his quiver. I take notice that there isn’t any blood covering them. “Don’t be shy, gentlemen, you did only write a song about me. A quite catchy one, at that. Lots of emotion, huh? What, does the steed and the bow not give it away?”

The four of us stand stunned as we watch him, the same thought flowing through all of our minds. 

“Are we being fucking Punk’d right now?” Danny whispers into my ear, making me huff a disbelieving laugh through my nose. 

The man glides over closer to our group, standing tall and confident as he places his hands on his hips. I watch behind him as the First and Second rest an arm against his horse. It only just now hits me that I can see their faces, reminding me that they are brothers. 

“It’s alright, I know this must seem a bit… unreal,” the man boasts, wiping his hands together. I’m struck by his grit, mixed in with the right amount of a strange flawless beauty that I’ve never come in contact with before. He most definitely doesn’t walk this earth naturally. “But don’t be afraid of me, I beg you… I’m here to help. Just as Josiah just told you, I’m on your team.”

Josiah. 

“Jake how the fuck did that guy know your name? Who is this? What the hell is going on, here?” Sam asks with a bit of annoyance in his tone. 

“Sam, Danny, listen to me, I can explain all of this…” I try and calm him, releasing Y/N’s hand from my grasp.

“Yeah, you better explain because I think we almost just got killed by these fucking things, and then again by this guy,” Sam shouts, throwing his hands into the air. “He shot them with fucking arrows, Jake! They almost hit us!”

“Whoa, whoa, my aim isn’t that bad,” the man interrupts us. “I put them to sleep for you, didn’t I?”

“I’m talking to my fucking brother, please, sir, can you just–” Sam says, disbelief and aggravation written all over his face, and Danny’s too. The scene that’s unfolding around us looks and seems absolutely absurd.

“Listen, remember just a while ago I told you that there is more to this than we think there is…? Remember I told you we are in for a lot worse than we realize, and Daniel, how I was telling you that your thoughts about our music are very much real?” I try and begin to explain, knowing that I could sit here for hours before I get all the pieces put together. 

They do nothing but nod, their eyes anxiously jumping from me to the new people behind us. 

“Apparently uh, apparently you were exactly right, Danny. That world we created, or thought we created in our heads, in our music… it exists. In another realm, right alongside ours. Josh told me, right before the night they all came and took us from the cabin, that his inspiration was drawn from nightmares that he’s had for decades. All this time, he thought he was writing music about an imaginary place that his nightmares showed him, turns out that he is somehow able to see one that truly exists.”

The two of them stand and study me, looks of near entertainment daring to push through their features. 

“You’re fucking joking, right? Like this is a joke?” Sam says through a smile. 

“That’s exactly what I thought, too, when I learned about it all,” I say, glancing back to the brothers still standing by the horse. “Our world is killing us, right? Using the technology we created to exterminate mankind… well, that realm that exists alongside us can’t survive without our world, and neither can its inhabitants. And vice versa. So, the ones who inhabit that world,” I motion to the three beings on the ground beside us, “have been sent to collect us. The ones who can’t be infected by the rash, the ones who haven’t been victim to the extermination. And more importantly, the ones who they think know exactly what is going to happen next in the Infisonicosm.”

Danny erupts with laughter, just as I thought he would. Sam, though, studies me intently as his eyes squint. 

“Nightmares,” he whispers. “All of that, that whole thing we created, was because Josh had nightmares?” 

“Most of it,” I say. “Some of it was from our minds, if you remember…” Sam nods in what I feel to be a bit of understanding. 

“So you,” Danny trudges forward, pushing himself between Sam and I, “What are you, the Archer? That dumbass character that we wrote about and I dressed up as in that video?!” he mocks. “Yeah fucking right, this is ridiculous.” I can tell Danny is in denial, which throws me off, given that he has been the one unraveling all of the ties of our music the past couple of months. 

“Might sound ridiculous, but it’s true, my guy,” the Second says, reminding me of that first night in the dark room when they told me everything. 

“And who the hell are you guys?” Danny presses. “Guards from the pods? Why should we trust you?”

“They were the ones that found me the first night we were taken, Daniel. They found me and told me everything. They were hired by the others, but they’re here to help us. They’re playing devil’s advocate,” I explain, earning two nods from the brothers. “They used to be fans of ours, actually.”

“Fans, fuck that’s convenient. And you, Archer Man, why are you helping us? If you’re from that world, why did you just kill these three things?” Danny presses. I feel Y/N at my back again, her presence instantly calming me. 

“I’m part of the resistance, always have been,” he says nonchalantly with a shrug. “I’ve already been through this once, during the First Battle, the one you guys ended up writing about. Well, me and Sparrow, of course,” he rambles. “But now my people are using humans to their advantage so we don’t take as severe of a loss as we did last time. They’re taking your people and transforming you to bring you into our world, making you forget all about your own. Wiping all your memories of this place. And I promise you, though our world has it’s perks, you’d much rather stay here, even though Mother Nature is trying to push you off…” The man is explaining this all to us as if it’s second nature to him, which, now I gather is probably true. “Oh, and I didn’t kill these things. I told you, I put them to sleep. They can’t die all the way, because they inhabit both this world, and their own. They’re only half-alive over there.”

“This is fucking ridiculous…” Sam says with a huff, running a hand over his mouth as he turns away from us all. Danny just stands dumbfounded with his hands on his hips. 

“So wait,” I hear Y/N’s quiet but stern voice speak up as she walks to the man. “You said they’re transforming our people, what do you mean? Wiping our memories?”

“Yes, that’s right,” the Archer clears his throat. “There are these… buildings where your people are being taken, elderly, from what I hear. They’re wiping their memories, taking all of their pasts away so that when they bring them permanently to the realm I am from, they won’t have a clue about the past life they lived here, on earth. Will force them to learn the ways of that land, and force their allegiance to it. Heartbreaking, really.”

“Paps,” I hear her whisper before turning to me. “That’s where they were taking him before the sink hole took…” she trails off, her mind obviously racing. I go to her again, taking her elbows in my hands.

“He might be there, Y/N, now we have more information, now we have help… we can find him…” I reassure her. “Hopefully we can get to him before–”

“This your mate, Jacob?” the Archer interrupts us. 

“Uhh, no, no… just… just a friend,” I stammer, both of our faces turning bright red. “We ehm. We were kidnapped the same night, put into the same pod.”

I watch as the Archer slowly walks to her, his eyes never leaving hers. He towers over her, and at first she looks a little scared, until he gently takes her hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. 

“Well, she is beautiful… very intelligent, I can tell. Resourceful, fearless… I can see your aura, Ms…”

“Y/N,” she replies softly, her cheeks still bright pink. 

“Y/N,” he repeats, still holding her hand. “You’ve got more inside you than you let on, don’t you…”

I stand by and watch as she pulls a few strands of hair behind her ear. “I–I don’t think so?”

“Mm,” he goes on, his thumb rubbing over the back of her hand, “I believe you’re full of a great amount of ferocity, zeal and passion. Remind me a lot of my Sparrow… you better take heed, Jacob, or another Immune might realize what’s in front of him before you do.”

My jaw nearly drops at his words, and I go to speak up but he interrupts me again. “Samuel, Daniel, are you going to spend the entire evening walking around with your hands behind your heads trying to make sense of all this? Or are you going to believe us, believe your brother, and allow us to get on with our journey?” the Archer asks as he picks up the three beings with ease, draping them across the back of his horse as they sleep.

Y/N makes short eye contact with me but shies away; I’m glad she does, I wouldn’t know what to say, anyway.

“You seriously expect us to believe all this, Jake?” Sam says. “This is all ridiculous, you have to understand that, right?” 

I give Sam one last long glance as I return my attention to the Archer. “Do you know where our other brother is? And the rest of our family?” 

“Not exactly, but if I had to guess, they’ve already taken your brother Josh into their protection. Deeper than they had taken you, simply because he was the one having the dreams,” he explains. “Now can we get going? We need to bed down before nightfall.”

Y/N

I’m. Fucking. Filthy. 

I’m tired, my legs feel like jello, and I’m starving. I feel as though I haven’t had a shower in weeks, when it was only just a couple of days ago that they let us shower in the pods. I haven’t shaved my legs or armpits in forever…my nails need trimmed so badly it hurts, and my hair probably looks worse for wear than my pimple-covered face does. Gross. Just really fucking gross. 

But I’m alive. 

I pulled Jake free from the sinkhole and away from danger. And he, in turn, pulled me away from the danger of those…things. 

The Archer had been leading us through the woods for about half an hour now, likely looking for a place to make camp or…something. The two guards that Jake knows walk alongside us with their weapons drawn, and their heads on constant lookout. Sam and Danny haven’t talked since we left, just walking along, stomping their feet and pulling at sticks and branches as they pass them by. I can tell they’re both mad. Upset, confused, pissed off… Hell, I would be too, if I were them. Knowing everything they had ever worked for had come down to this: walking through the woods with some mythical creature that they thought they had created in their minds.

My thoughts are frivolous and a little bit jumbled, and I know the other guys are having just as hard a time with this as I am, maybe even worse. I guess this is why Jake had told me to not show my tattoos, at the risk of one of the beings seeing them and knowing that I may have some kind of connection with the lore, too. He was trying to protect me. 

I start thinking back to when Jake was trying to get me to understand, without outright telling me. When he was talking about The Battle of Evermore, using it as an analogy and trying to get me to put the pieces together myself. Make sense of what Josh had been unknowingly doing all those years, and why he did it. Hell, the amount of music that’s spawned over the years from fictional times and places is enormous, are they at risk, too? Are all of these places in time connected? Could these other artists have had the same dreams that Josh did?

I can’t think like that, my brain will explode. Instead, I turn my attention over to the only other person whose mind is probably right on track with mine, finding him already meeting me at my side.

“Hey uh, about what he said earlier, about another Immune getting to you–”

“Don’t worry about it, Jake. That was… really odd of him to say,” I try and brush off the interaction, when in all reality I want to harness this overwhelming emotion that I’ve noticed every time I’m in Jake’s presence. 

He nods, his eyes heavy. “I just don’t want you to feel threatened by him, or anything. Uneasy, you know? He seems a bit–”

“Overconfident? Yeah, I agree,” I laugh, trying to stay quiet. “But no, I don’t feel that way. I can tell he’s harmless. Even though wrapping my head around who he is and why he’s here is a bit fucking…”

“Yeah, I know. This shit is making me feel crazy. But, good. Last thing we need is me having to fight a guy twice my size for offending you,” he chuckles, sending a shockwave right through me.

I laugh along with him. “Now why would you have to do that?” 

He gives me the tiniest smile I’ve ever seen from him, and one sweet little shoulder shrug. I can tell he’s feeling shy, or holding something back from me. Probably the same thing I’m holding back from him. We stay quiet for a few minutes as we trudge on, our fingers barely brushing against each other’s every few steps. His hair is tangled at his neck, but still pulled back into a messy knot. Though none of us have eaten in days, and the sun wants to burn us more than ever, his skin still looks glowy and healthy. I can’t lie- right here in this very moment, I find him more attractive than I ever have, and that’s saying something.

It’s funny, years ago as we were all heavily in our lust for every man in this band, that’s all it was. Just rockstar lust. Screaming over photos and buckling at the knees during shows. Of course we were all enamored by the people that they were, and the things that they stood for, but now, as we’re all in our thirties, a new thought process has taken over the mindset that I lived in for so many years. Now they’re all grown adults, fully self-aware and sure of the men that they are. A bit more poised, and no-bullshit with their attitudes. A little rustier in their movements, a little gruff in their appearances. I’d always heard of what generally happens to men when they hit thirty, but damned if I’ve ever seen it come to life like it has in these three. 

I just hope that Josh is doing the same somewhere safe, keeping true to himself and not in any danger.

“How do we know these people aren’t luring us there? How do we know this isn’t all a trick to get us where they want us?” Jake breaks me from my thoughts. 

“I dunno…” I whisper, taking another look at the Archer still ahead of us. “You trust those other two, right? I guess we just have to trust the fact that they might know where Josh and your family are. If he can get us that, nothing else matters.”

“And Paps,” he adds without a thought. I bite my cheeks in, stifling a punch to the gut. 

“And Paps.”

—--

The Archer didn’t take us to a camp. No, he brought us to a large, abandoned home balanced on a hillside equipped with a wraparound porch and what was once a koi pond out front. The home stood by itself, we’d passed no neighbors or other structures for about a mile. Obviously, this family had money, and just from the looks of it, you could tell they stayed alive inside this home for as long as they possibly could. 

Stone made up the foundation of the beautiful A-frame home, and a heavy oak front door adorned the front. I caught sight of three generators underneath the porch, and I wondered if they lived long enough to use all of the fuel from them. 

“We’re staying here? How do we know the people who lived here aren’t still inside?” Sam asks, the first time I’ve heard his voice in a couple of hours. 

“Because I’ve checked. Do you think I would bring you to a place that was still inhabited and let your mortal self have to deal with digging graves this evening? I would never, Samuel,” the Archer bellows as he hops from his horse, his flowing sheer robes falling as gently as snowflakes around him as he lands. I’m starting to like this guy’s witty personality. “You will bed here. Get some rest, we’ve got a long few days ahead of us.”

“Why are you doing this, why are you helping us?” Danny perks up as I watch the two guards rush up the porch stairs. “For all we know you could be pretending and have plans to trap us all in that house without food or water and let us die. For all we know this could all be a ploy and you do work for those other guys.”

I watch Jake’s eyebrows raise in an agreeing question. 

The Archer rolls his eyes as he runs a hand through his long hair, adjusting the bow that rests on his back. “Listen kid, I’ve got a long, long story. And I’ve been around long enough to know where and how to spend my time. I can’t die, do you get that? Unless something kills me in the other world, I’m stronger than ever here. I’ve spent hundreds of years fighting against those godforsaken people that rule my world. It’s tyranny, it’s control… and now that your world has decided to say fuck you human beings, my people have taken their chance at even more control than they’ve ever dreamed of. All at the expense of you.” The Archer is nose-to-nose with Danny now, pressing his pointer finger into his chest. I can feel the rage dripping off of him, and I know that Sam and Jake are ready to jump within a second’s notice. But Danny stays strong, not backing down. 

The Archer realizes that and turns away, going back to his horse’s saddle as he continues to talk. “Most of my years have been spent protecting your world against any overlapping with mine. I run interference, I control what needs to be controlled, assisting your people if I ever catch word of my rulers overstepping their boundaries. Over the years, I’ve made progress. Caught onto things and stopped them before they could happen. I’ve managed to keep it at bay.”

“Why haven’t they tried to kill you?” I ask. 

He smiles, reaching out his long arm and running his soft hand along my cheek. “They know better.” 

I feel all of my insides grow weak and I shudder at his gentle touch. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that this man rather enjoys my aura. 

“All clear up here, Odin!” I hear one of the guards interrupt our moment. 

“Thank you,” the Archer replies, as I learn he has a name. “Now, Daniel, if you’ll follow our friends up the stairs to the place we’ve prepared you, I’d love to get my horse to some water.”

—--

“Come on, baby… come on…” I watch Sam coax the generator as he primes it, hoping and praying to start it up long enough to power the lights on. He jerks on the pull-start over and over before it finally starts running, a sound that I feel like I haven’t heard in decades. His face lights up with joy, and his smile reaches from ear to ear, but his happiness is short-lived, as the generator putts out after only a few seconds. 

“Son of a bitch!” he yells. “Y/N are you sure you made sure there was connection?”

“Yes, I’m positive!” I yell back at him as I try not to laugh at his expense. He stands up with his hand on his hip, his free hand coaxing his beard that’s gotten fairly long, now. 

“Sam, what’s the big deal? It’s not going to work…” I hear Jake say from up on the back porch.

“Yes it will. There, free-standing water tank, still half-full of water. Water pipe from tank to house. Generator connected to water pipe. Non-mechanical pressure system, boom. Water in the shower,” he spats at Jake, using his hands to talk. “This isn’t technology, Jake. It’s just moving parts powered by sparks and gasoline…”

I look up to Jake and Danny above me, leaning on the banister of the porch. He’s not really wrong…

“Your attempts are futile, Samuel. I doubt there is much fuel still left in that generator,” I hear Odin from the wooded area behind the house. “Come now, this fire is much better suited to assist you in your human needs than that old machine…”

As we cut our losses and give up, we walk behind the house to the wooded area where Odin and the two guards have prepared a fairly large fire. It looks as though they’ve salvaged a few things from the home, some canned goods and two or three jugs of water. I can smell the food already being heated, and I realize then how dehydrated we probably all are. We all wearily gather around it, taking places on the damp ground as the Second, as Jake had referred to him, hands us small bowls of some kind of cooked beans. 

“What’s your name?” I ask him, getting comfortable with my back against the trunk of a tree. 

“Me? Oh, I’m Robert. Robbie, if you want. That’s my older brother Josiah,” he responds, resting his hand on his belt as I take the bowl from him. 

“See, Jake? They have names…” I tease as Jake comes and takes a spot beside me, his shoulder pressing harshly into mine. 

“I think I’m still gonna call them The First and The Second,” he huffs. “Seems more fitting, seeing as how they beat my ass a couple times back in the pods.”

“Hey now, now, we told you that was coming,” Josiah interjects with a mouthful of beans. “We had to make it look like we were doing our job. Just be glad the sinkhole came when it did, we’d probably still be whooping your ass in there,” he laughs jokingly. 

“From the bowing earth,” Danny interrupts solemnly from across the flames. “Uprises the weeds of war, caving the floor… a renaissance born.”

We all are struck into silence as Danny recites the old lyrics, his eyes boring into the fire as his hands stay wrapped around the bowl of food that he’s yet to touch. 

“The earth is bowing, the floor… it’s literally caving. It’s–it’s the sink holes…” he reiterates, making my face feel like it has turned to stone. “We wrote about… we wrote about this, too…”

“Precisely,” Odin whispers. “A bit prophetic, don’t you think?”

“Fuck…” Jake whispers beside me, obviously not yet having made that connection, either. “What the hell else are we going to learn?”

“There’s much to learn, Jacob. Much for you all to learn,” Odin says as he adjusts himself on the ground. “I know you’re all full of questions, please, now is the time to ask. And I’ll do my best to answer.”

I look around at the three of them, their faces painted with fifty different emotions as I know they have no idea where to start, so I do. 

“You keep mentioning this First Battle, what do you mean by that?” I ask. “Was it really The Battle at Garden’s Gate?”

“Excellent question, my darling,” Odin says, crossing his legs. I hear Jake huff a breath of annoyance. Hah, good.

“In short, yes. That Battle happened over 500 years ago, when our world was first threatened by another outside force, one that I don’t have time to delve into at this moment. You gentlemen really paid it justice, I will say, through your music. Joshua’s recount of his dreams was quite vivid, if I do say so.”

“We made up a lot of those lyrics while we were high as kites and three bottles of tequila in,” Sam jests, shaking his head. “How does that make sense with what you’re saying?”

“Ah, that may be true Samuel, but I’m sure your eldest brother pushed forth the guidelines for the majority of it, hm? If not filling in the gaps, writing the framework?” Odin says as the fire crackles between us. 

Sam nods, “I guess so, yeah.”

“The Battle did actually occur at the iron gates of our Garden, the largest and most wondrous sight your human eyes couldn’t even comprehend. The outside force that threatened us had found a way to infiltrate our realm, seeking nothing more than blood and quick kills. You see, the Garden itself wasn’t just a garden, it was miles and miles of rolling green hills, bursting at the seams with flora and foliage and flowers and weeds, an abundance of life that all existed in harmony. Fields of thorned white roses grew naturally, some growing ten, twenty feet high with their vines all intertwined within one another. And on the other hand, it was also partially covered in thick ice and snow, with crystallized caps and pristine glittering mountaintops that you can hardly fathom with thought. It was beautiful, vast, alive… All of the natural life growing right alongside the roaring, freezing, ice-ridden landscapes.”

“Kind of like how it’s the middle of winter here, now, and the trees are more green than I’ve ever seen them…” Sam says.

“That’s right. It was normal for us, there, but I’m afraid your world is already starting to adopt it, too. This, my friends, will be called your Fifth Season.”

I’m startled, feeling odd now that I realize that the cold winds that blew today are now replaced by a heat that is not coming from the fire. 

“The heat from above,” Odin goes on, “will come at night.”

“You’re shitting me…” Danny scoffs with a whisper, shaking his head in disbelief.

“My words are true, Daniel. If I may go on, you all told the stories of the Battle quite well, your imagery, from what I have been shown, illustrated nearly identically to what our lands were left like after the Battle. Dry, deserted, no longer did anything flourish, it’d been burned to ash.”

To wonderlands of ice and snow, in the desert heat where nothing grows…

My mind is absolutely overrun with all of the ties that are being made, with all of the old graphics that went along with this album… the green, the white, the red and the black…

“There was once a temple in the center of the Garden where very few lived, but many passed through. If my memory serves, you all included that image, as well. And, a nice statue-esque depiction of myself looking mighty handsome, I will say…back when my hair was a bit shorter.  Though it was destroyed in the Battle, along with big parts of the temple,” Odin recollects. “Many of our ancient writings and teachings are etched in the walls there, still… written in gold.”

I feel Jake’s lungs fill as he sits still beside me, and I can hardly fathom what his mind is learning right now. All of it…

“You, my friends, have to realize that the music you’ve been writing since you were mere children is all centered around the true happenings of our world. So many things intertwine, so many concepts brought to life in your music. It’s astounding, really. And, from the bottom of my heart, I am so sorry that my people are now exploiting it,” Odin says with a harsh solemnity in his voice. 

“Well we exploited you, in all actuality,” Jake says. “We didn’t know we were making a mockery of your history, we had no clue it was all real.”

Odin smiles. “I wouldn’t say it’s a mockery, Jacob. If anything, you brought an awareness that your audience didn’t even realize they were a part of.”

“Who is Sparrow?” I ask, making every head jerk to look my way. He has mentioned the name twice, now. 

“Let me take another wild guess…” Sam interjects. 

“My Sparrow,” Odin breathes, recollecting himself to speak more mannerly. “I can honestly say though my ears interpret music differently than humans do, the words and melodies that you all wrote about my sweet lady were very close to the truth.” 

I think back to those lyrics now, hearing the sweet acoustic guitar playing in the back of my head. 

“Sparrow and I met by happenstance, in the city square ten days before the first Battle. She struck me, even from across the masses of crowds… I was drawn to her. She was only passing through, but somehow, after nearly three days spent locked up together in my quarters, I convinced her to stay. A wild flower, she is. Always blowing across the breeze wherever it decided to take her. And brutal, my,” his brows furrow as he smiles at the memory of her. “More fiery and absurd and hard-headed than any person I’d ever met. Her decisions were her own, then, and no word I would mutter across our pillow could keep her at bay. She decided that she was going to fight, told me that there was nothing keeping her from taking part in the war. Felt it was her duty. Suppose I learned quickly that I cared more for her than she of me, but alas. The sword she carried never left her side during it all as she rode on horseback only at night, surprising the enemy as they slept. All night, she would fight alone, reappearing only as the sun rose to retreat back, letting the rest of us fight while the sun shone. My Sparrow of the Dawn,” he explains, his one bright orange eye flickering in the reflection of the flames as he sits in deep thought. “Now where you all acquired the title of Flower Power, I always have wondered…” 

All three of them laugh quietly. “We thought we were hippies, I guess,” Sam chuckles. “Felt fitting, at the time.”

“Is she still alive?” Josiah asks. 

“She is. She rarely crosses to this world, she prefers to stay tucked away and safe, until absolutely necessary. I go and see her from time to time. Our love has faltered over the years… grown and subsided and grown again. I’ve come to realize that there is no taming her, and she’s best suited to live her own life, though I would lie mine down before her feet even to this day, if it meant she would stay with me,” he says, swallowing a lump in his throat. 

“When did you see her last?” I ask. 

“Probably eighteen, nineteen years ago,” he answers. “It’s funny, I suppose the timeline nearly meets of when your brother must have had the dream about her, and you all wrote the song. May have been right as I was seeing her for the last time.” I’m struck with disbelief again, in complete and utter shock of how all of this is mapping out. I wish that we could go to Josh, and he could learn of all of this, I wish he would have been comfortable sharing that he had these dreams at the times he was having them. I feel no shame in setting my bowl to the side, and taking Jake’s hand in my own, as I feel an overwhelming rush of sadness come over him. I know that he is feeling more isolated than ever, without his twin.

He gently lies his head onto my shoulder as Danny and Sam look at us, giving us both pitiful looks of empathy. Their eyes fall as they realize their brother is really just fucking sad. So I gently pat his cheek and pull him further onto my shoulder, surprised and glad that he feels comfortable enough to display himself like this, with me. 

“What you gentlemen also need to realize is that the reason my people want to harness your knowledge so intently is that we were well aware there was a prophecy not long after the First Battle was fought, and nearly lost. We knew another was to come, though this one wouldn’t be fought on our soil. The hooded guards, the ones who attacked you earlier and who are now locked away in the basement, there are many of them. Uncountable. They all work for the ones who inhabit the Tower, the ones who rule us so harshly. They are all nearly omniscient, sharing their prophecies and fortunes with one another. There has been a fire burning at the Tower for nearly a millenia, it’s smoke always billowing a clean white. But right before your world decided to wipe herself clean, the smoke from the fires burned black.”

“The new age crisis,” Danny mumbled. “It signaled you that something was about to happen.”

Odin nods. “Yes. And happen, it did. And your brother saw it happening in his dreams nearly what, fifteen years ago? When you wrote that song as young boys… he prophesied it before our rulers even knew about it.” 

Jake suddenly rips his head from my shoulder and stands, pulling his hair back with his hands as he stomps around the fire. He stands still for a second, his breath chopped as he looks like he is about to burst into tears. He darts around the side of the house, his sobs already wracking through him as I share a quick look with Danny and Sam before we all stand and follow him. “We’ll be back,” I say to the others before we take off after Jake. 

“Go away, I just need a second,” Jake yells at us as we finally find him beside the old koi pond. 

“What the fuck is happening,” Sam says rhetorically as he plops down on the ground, his elbows meeting his knees as he curls up around himself. Danny walks to the edge of the old driveway, his fingers interlaced at the back of his head as he stares off into the night sky. 

Jake is leaning his hand on the post of the porch, trying to calm his own breathing with his back to the rest of us. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to think. This all feels so surreal, so fake and dreamlike, but again, the fire that’s burning in the yard behind us and the horse that’s tied to the tree five yards away are both very, very real. 

I can smell the smoke from it, I can feel the little bit of food being digested in my stomach, I can recognize that these three men that surround me are going through one of the most unreal realizations that they’ve ever encountered in their lives. I can’t even fathom their thought processes right now. 

“How did we do that, how did Josh do that,” Danny says as he turns back around to us. “All those years, all that we thought we just made up in our heads because it sounded good…”

“It’s okay, Danny, we’re gonna get it figured out, we’re gonna find Josh,” I try and intervene. 

“No, Y/N, it’s not gonna be okay, don’t you see that?” Jake bombards me, taking my shoulders in his firm grip. “There’s nothing we can do to stop this, and Josh might already be too far gone, they probably already have him. And our families, they’re probably–” his face is riddled with confusion and hopelessness, he’s barely holding it together. “We’re fucked, we’re all fucked. The whole world is gone, and we didn’t even know that we knew it was going to happen!” He shudders with fear, and I can feel the guilt in his chest as he yells in my face. I’ve never seen him like this, and I have to admit, he’s scaring me a little. 

“Hop off, Jake, calm it,” Sam is suddenly beside us, putting his hand on Jake’s chest. “This isn’t her fault, either.”

Jake huffs a sob as he steps back, running his hands over his face as enraged and guilt-ridden tears fall from his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

“It’s okay,” I choke, feeling things calm for just a split second as they all try to breathe. “Listen, guys, I know you all don’t know me, and you probably think I know you more than I actually do, but. There is no way you all could have known that the Earth was going to do this. Honestly. And even if you did, how in the fuck do you think you would have been able to stop it? Huh? ‘Listen to our music… it’s telling the truth! All we’ve created is going to cease to exist!’ No, everyone would have called you completely crazy. So don’t even begin to blame yourselves, this was all going to happen regardless of if you realized your music was foretelling the future or not. All we have is what’s in front of us. We have each other, and we have Odin, and the brothers. And we have a mission. We’re going to find Josh, we’re going to find Paps, and we’re going to find your family. We’re going to keep ourselves alive, and we’re going to find the others like us and get them to a safe place. That’s all we can do. One step at a time…” 

I know my words probably carry no weight, but I’ve at least got to try. A tentative plan might give them hope.

It’s quiet as their wheels turn, and Sam and Danny give me slow nods of understanding. “You’re right, you’re right…” they both mutter as they take deep breaths and pat my back reassuringly. 

“Go get some sleep, huh?” I give them stern looks, lowering my voice to command them. I know they’re both probably exhausted beyond belief. “Go inside.”

They both stuff their hands in their pockets as they walk up the steps back to the fire, leaving Jake and I in the calmness of the night. I take a seat on the high wall of the koi pond, the grass high around my knees. It’s filled with bugs and loud wildlife, all making simultaneous noises as they take up refuge in the weeds. Jake is still standing nearby, looking out at the night sky and the new moon in the distance. 

“I’m scared, Y/N,” he says, refusing to turn and face me. I swallow down his words. 

“I am too, Jake. I think we all are.”

He finally turns and comes to join me on the wall, letting his body relax as he takes another deep breath. “You remember how dark our last album got, right? That day that Josh told me everything, all about his dreams, he said he was dreaming about that shit, too. Is this about to get that much worse?”

It’s true, their last album was the darkest, yet. Though Josh’s lyrics were sewn with allusions and metaphors and the like, the themes were heavier than anything they’d ever done. He focused on struggle, he focused on destruction, he focused on death.

“I don’t know, Jake. For all we know, that could already be happening, we could be in the middle of it right now,” I respond, and frankly, the way we are all feeling right now justly mirrors the way listening to that last album felt the first time I heard it. “We’re already surrounded by death and loss, you know?”

He nods again, his eyes never leaving the sky. But then his hand comes to find mine again, just like mine had done earlier with his while we were around the fire. The callouses that once were embedded in his fingertips are a little softer now, I can tell, and the scars that run the length of his left forearm are brighter than ever. In a bold act, I gently run my finger along them, feeling the caverns and healed skin from the stitches he had all those years ago. To my surprise, he lets me. His fingers intertwine with mine in such a way that feels more right than anything I’ve ever felt, more comforting than any contact I’d ever received. 

His free hand lifts the sleeve of my dirty gray sweatshirt, revealing all the tattoos of his music that line the length of my arm, and he runs his finger along them, too. 

“I can’t believe you followed us, all that time,” he says quietly, the touch of his fingertip sending shivers through me. 

I huff a laugh through my nose. “It was the best adventure I ever took myself on, I can promise you that. Ten years of traveling with the friends I made, going to new places, taking Paps along with me… I’m sure you guys all thought it was weird that the majority of us did that, but. It was honestly one of the best parts of my life. Made me feel like I was really connected to something that I belonged to, I could call mine. I dunno, it sounds strange saying it to you,” I laugh. 

“No,” he whispers. “Seems like you were genuine about it, not just in it for the same bullshit some of the others were. I know how it feels to connect with something really intensely, like that. And I couldn’t picture my life without my own escapes. So I get it. I’m glad we could be that for you, and your friends…” 

“You still are, really,” I admit. “That feeling doesn’t really ever go away. Once it’s ingrained in you, you know.”

“I do know,” he smiles, finally turning to look at me, his face closer to mine than it was the day he told me everything at the pods. 

“You’re a little different, aren’t you, Y/N?”

“Apparently, according to Odin,” I try to break the high-intensity of the moment, my heart thrumming so quickly I can hardly breathe. I feel his breath on my lips, I feel his fingertip moving up to my elbow, then my shoulder, then to my neck… My entire body is covered in nerve-ridden goosebumps from his proximity.

His other hand is still squeezing mine, his fingers kneading into my palm as my breathing audibly quickens. His nose grazes across mine as I try and collect enough breath to breathe him in, relishing in the moment that I never in a million years thought would happen. I feel the slightest brush of his lips on my cheek as his jaw clenches, the roughness of his mustache making my head spin with want. I haven’t been this close to anyone in so long…

“Well he’s right,” he whispers, his lips moving across my cheek and against my lips… but still yet, he doesn’t make contact. “There’s something about you… I don’t wanna stay away from.”

Then his fingers come up and cup my cheek, my jaw resting comfortably in his palm. Every inch of me is on fire, in complete disbelief that this is really happening. All of my odd, unimaginable feelings from the past couple of days, completely warranted. 

“I know you’ve got to go find your Paps, I know you can’t stick with us forever…” he says, his jaw biting into itself over and over through his words, obviously holding him back from doing what he really wants to do. 

“Says who?” I reply, my eyes fluttering open and closed. “This is a team effort, who says I want to leave you?”

“I don’t want you to leave me…” he mutters through a rough breath, biting his bottom lip in as I feel his eyelashes brush across my cheek. It’s taking literally every ounce of energy in my body not to connect us, my yearning urging me to do something.

“I’m not, I won’t,” I say, and just as soon as the last word escapes my lips, he finally connects his to mine, rough and needy and sweet, his hand still gripped in my hair and pulling me into him. I’m floating above us, the nerve endings in every centimeter of my body experiencing a euphoria I’ve been dreaming about for the past ten years… complete and utter disbelief… way more intensely than I had ever dreamed of. 

My hands find him as I disconnect our intertwined fingers, gripping at the neck of his sweatshirt and gathering it up in my fists as I kiss him back, wanting and heavy as I allow my body to taste a shred of what it’s been begging me for since the world began to end. I feel the breath from his nose against mine, holding for just a few seconds as his subconscious reminds him he needs to breathe. I lean in, and he reacts, pressing himself closer into me, our chests touching and heaving already. 

His hands are on either side of my face, squeezing me so tightly that I feel my ears ringing. But finally he pulls away for just a second long enough to utter one word, ‘Fuck,’ before he delves back in, his tongue searching deeply for mine. So I reciprocate, giving him exactly what he wants as I lick back into his mouth. I feel my core begin to throb, obviously, having gone without the touch of another human for months now, months before everything began to happen, really. My body is begging me, carnally and against my own will, to give it more. 

I turn myself in my seat, my legs straddling either side of the wall we’re sitting on as he turns too, putting his hands underneath the backs of my thighs to lift me closer to him. It’s turned into a frenzy of hands and hair and mouths, our bodies both heaving and lurching into one another. I can’t breathe, I can’t see, I can’t even hear the sounds of everything I know that surrounds us. All I feel is him. 

His hands are on my waist, his fingers digging into my skin up underneath my shirt as they pull at my skin, and I let out the tiniest whimper into his mouth, and I immediately regret it. Fuck fuck… no don’t, Y/N. But at the same time, it makes my mind clear. I’m fucking kissing him, right now. His hands are on my body… I have thought about this exact moment a thousand times… 

I shouldn’t have been embarrassed by it, because as soon as the sound leaves me, he growls into my mouth, making the entire world around me shatter. Good god, this feels worse than heaven and hell combined. We’re unbridled and fighting, his hands yanking at the hair at the base of my neck as I bite at his bottom lip, the both of us treating the other as if we’ve been this close for a hundred years.

But we haven’t, and he’s not–

I rip myself away, my hair covering my eyes as I peer at him in the darkness, my breath barely able to keep me upright and from fainting as I see just as much surprise on his face. But I also see lust so heavy that I contemplate diving right back in. His hands are still balanced on my bare hips, his fingers now ghosting rather than digging. 

“I’m sorry, I– yelled at you earlier, and then I– I shouldn’t have–”

“Fuck off, Jake,” I say, giving him a devious grin, this time throwing my own hand up to cover his mouth. “Don’t fucking apologize.” 

Instead of answering, his featherlight touch on my hips switches back to a possessive grip as they run from them up to my ribcage. I lean in and kiss him again, my forehead knocking hard into his as he bites at my tongue. I can’t even begin to explain how he tastes, maybe I’ll get into that later, but for now I’m just going to enjoy it. 

It’s only a few more seconds before I’m inching myself closer to him, my tits now pushed firmly against his chest. I know he can feel it, as he allows one of his hands to travel up from my ribs and under my sorry excuse for a sports bra, confidently taking my left breast in his hand. This spurs me on, of course, as I can feel myself absolutely pooling with desire for him. I stop myself from imagining what he has going on. 

“Goddamnit, fuck, we can’t–” he finally says as his fingers pinch at my nipple, almost making me come un-fucking-done, right there by the koi pond. “I can’t I can’t I can’t,” he says in succession. 

“Why, what?” I barely get out, my head still in a state of euphoria. 

“We can’t– I’ve gotta, stop myself, Y/N… we can’t even do that right now, fuck…” he’s rubbing a hand over his eyes and hair, trying to calm himself as we separate. “There’s, there’s too much risk, I don’t know…” 

I’m not mad, but I’m not happy, either. I pull my bra and shirt back down into place, checking behind us that one of the others haven’t caught us in the act. “Jake, I’m thirty years old, I know my body,” I willingly admit before I can even stop myself.

“Yeah but I didn’t… I didn’t even ask you if that was what you wanted, I don’t know, I acted too much on impulse, I just–” 

“Listen to me,” I demand of him as I take his face in my hands. “I haven’t been touched by a man, by another human in almost ten months, Jake. Probably more, if I’m being honest. We’re in the middle of the fucking apocalypse, the world is fucking ending, and I haven’t had a goddamned drink since my home fell into the first sink hole in Tennessee. I don’t know about you, but if a little touchin’ and squeezin’ is wrong, then I don’t wanna be right.”

His eyes silently search mine for a few seconds before I release him from my hold, watching as he tilts his head back and laughs. Laughs hard. 

“What’s so funny?” I complain as he’s wrapping his arms around my shoulders, leaning all his body weight onto me as his chest rattles with laughter. 

“I like you, I like you a lot,” he says, void of any sexual sentiment. “You’re really funny. You make me feel normal.”

“That’s cause I am normal. You’re famous, you wouldn’t understand,” I answer, and I feel him smiling against my hair again. 

“Shut up, you know what I mean,” he says as he pulls away. “Like I’m back down to earth and not part of a conspiracy that prophesied the end of the world.”

“You’re reaching, Jake,” I say, squinting one eye at him. My nerves are finally calming from the intensity of a few moments ago, and I can finally breathe. 

I watch him look at me as he bites his jaw sideways, likely feeling conflicted about what we just let ourselves do. 

“We’re human, Jake, with human needs, and human wants. Can you blame yourself? I mean, I’m hot, you’re hot…”

“Shhhut up,” he chuckles again. “You’re a really good kisser, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” I say. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Oh, really now?”

“Yeah, I think you’ll have to try again sometime, though, just so I can be sure,” I relay with faux confidence, pulling my leg back over the side of the wall. 

I finally stand, the muscles in my legs a little jittery from the position I was just in, and from them wanting to wrap themselves around Jake’s waist, or his face, whatever I could, honestly. Fuck, I know the both of us are going to be thinking about that for days… making this journey alongside him now is going to be a lot more difficult now that we’ve been that… close. 

“Come on, we need some fucking sleep,” he says, standing beside me to lead us back to the fire.

Just then, I hear a rustle in the gravel, like fast footsteps lightly barrelling their way toward us. We both gasp and turn back around as Jake shoves me in behind him. “Who is that? Who’s there?” he calls out. 

I see nothing but shadows, and what was once my pounding, excited heartbeat is now replaced with terror. No one answers, but the rustle of the footsteps keeps getting closer. Jake backs us up against the porch, and I feel his hand grip around my thigh in protection, telling me not to move. “I said who’s there!” he yells. I see a reflection of silver metal glisten in the moonlight as the steps come in closer. “Josiah!”

Just as quickly as the figure closes in on us, I hear the rushing footsteps of the rest of the group coming behind us. “Who’s there! Name yourself!” Josiah yells, stepping in front of us with Robbie at his flank. I can see their hands on their weapons. 

The footsteps close in and finally reach the grass, still covered in darkness as I watch the silver shimmer again. Jake’s hand is still wrapped hard around my thigh as he presses me into the wooden leg of the porch. Josiah and Robbie grip their weapons, removing them from their holsters as they begin to take aim. Sam and Danny are just behind us, already panicking as well. 

“Don’t come closer, we’ll fire!” Robbie yells into the darkness. 

I hear their weapons release their safeties, and I prepare myself to hear the worst, when Odin comes barrelling between us all, yelling and shouting for everyone to stand down. “Stop, stop! No!”

“Odin, move, it could be an armed looter!” Robbie yells. 

“NO!” he calls, running into the shadows of the high grass. “It’s my Sparrow…” 

I’m instantly at ease as she finally comes into the dim light of the fire around the corner, her body adorned in silver armor, her glittering yellow hair in braids that fall across her shoulders and back. And tucked away at her side, is her shining silver sword. 

“Odin!” she calls as their bodies meet, “I thought I’d never find you…”

“My love, my love, you found me. Why are you here? Are you alright?” he comforts her as they embrace, almost emanating their own dusty light in a mix of silvers and reds.

I think back to what Odin had said earlier, that Sparrow only comes to this world when absolutely necessary.

“I’m fine, I’m well, but I come with news. Let us gather, so I can see everyone’s faces,” she says, gliding past Odin and toward us so that we can be close to the light of the fire. 

The six of us let her pass through us, all of us in disbelief at her beauty. Her skin glitters just as Odin’s does, her movements graceful and quick as she blurs the air as she passes through it. I’m almost enamored at the presence of her, so intoxicatingly gripping as she makes her way to the light of the flames. We follow her in succession, everyone stunned and surprised at her sudden appearance. 

“Here now, everyone around,” she says, her voice from somewhere ancient and her accent one that is nearly unrecognizable. We all do as she says and gather around the fire again, watching as she literally shimmers in the light. 

“There we are, hello, hello,” she sings, looking each and every one of us in the eye as she introduces herself. “My name is Sparrow, I’m unaware if Odin has mentioned my name, yet.” 

“Of course I have, my love, I rarely speak to anyone without the mention of you,” Odin gloats, acting though he’d fall at her feet. “What brings you here, what brings you to us?”

Sparrow is silent as she walks around, getting eye-to-eye with all of us as she passes. “You men, you were the ones who wrote about me, who wrote of the stories of our people. It is a true pleasure…” she curtsies, making Sam and Danny hop back with surprise. 

“The uh, the pleasure is ours Ms. uh, Ms. Sparrow…” Danny chokes, his eyes darting nervously to us. 

Sam looks to Jake beside me, mouthing a quick ‘What the fuck?’

“It is true, I come with urgent news. I hope that Odin has told you that I rarely cross over into your world, if not for good reason. And a good reason, I do have.” She takes a seat on an oversized rock that lines the wooded area by the fire, and we all follow suit. She takes her sword from its holster on her side, and balances it across her knees. She runs a finger down from the end to the tip of it, letting it poke into her fingertip as she cracks her neck. 

I know that Jake is absolutely fucking loving this.

Just then, the sword itself looks as though it is glowing with cool white light, and her barren hands grip at the blade, squeezing onto it until her knuckles are white. My body tenses, expecting to see blood beginning to trickle from her hands, but instead, the sword just glows brighter. 

Her head tilts back, and her mouth falls open, as she begins speaking in a voice that is not her own. 

The voice, though, is one that is so familiar that I feel my bones begin to crumble, my blood begin to harden, and my organs turn to stone within me. 

The voice that is leaving her is Josh’s. 

“All is hallowed here, let their proclamations of faux deities and untrue alliances die along with the world that surrounds them! Upon this sacred ground they’ll surrender, within my words they’ll learn the truth of all that encompasses this divine ether. Let them not tether there, or they shall suffer with the insignificance of man, they shall perish alongside the ones the Earth has decided to exterminate. Let them live in jubilance as we celebrate here, as one, sanctifying all that is true. Faithful they shall be, and faithful they shall live! It is here, their destiny is manifested!”

Just as Sparrow speaks the final word, her hands let go of her sword and it’s dullness returns, as she collapses to the side into Odin’s waiting arms. I am stunned absolutely speechless. 

Things just got way, way worse. 

I look to Sam, then Danny, then Jake, the look on all of their faces identical as they have just listened to the voice of their brother recite a speech so terrifyingly haunting that I’m not sure if they are even still able to breathe. 

“Inside, bed. All of you,” Odin orders as Sparrow stays asleep in his arms. 

“Odin, what the fuck was that? You expect us to just–” Jake yells. 

“I said inside!!!” Odin bellows, shaking the trees with the volume of his voice. 

“That was my brother! His voice!” Jake challenges him. “Where is he?! Does she know?? Why was he saying those–”

“If you don’t get inside and get some rest this very instant, I will abandon all we have done for you, and you will continue this journey alone, without any guidance or anything to arm you. Now, do you want that, Jacob? Or do you want to do as I said and get some rest, so that you awaken with a clear and readied mind, and a rested body, for when Sparrow is strong enough to tell us what exactly she knows?” Odin presses, staying stern with Jake. 

Jake reaches down into the embers of the fire, picking up some still-burning ash and harshly throwing it back down to the fire, igniting the it into a million sparkles as he trudges back toward the house, his fists clenched at his sides. I stand there, unable to move. 

“Inside,” he orders me again, so I collect my losses against all my better instinct of leaving right this instant to go and find Josh, find our families. I rush up the stairs, and enter the dark house that is unfamiliar. I slam the door behind me and find the three of them stomping around the carpeted floors of the house, a huffing mess of confusion and doubt.

“On the couches, all three of you. Sit down, and try to rest. We won’t even make it to our families if we don’t. We need clear minds, and rest. Odin is right,” I repeat, the words tasting wrong in my mouth, but I know they are true. 

They all three follow suit and find places on the old, oversized couches, hugging at pillows and old blankets in the darkness. I feel Jake find my hand underneath the red quilt I’m now under, interlacing his fingers with mine again as we try to calm our minds enough to rest, if only for an hour.

Tags: @gretavangroupie @britney-gvf @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner @cassiesgreta @joopsandjangs @whimsiliz @kiszkas-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick@kiszka-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @jenniferkiszka@jjwasneverhere @gvfmarge @pineapple-photographer @vanfleeter@gretnavannfleet @pineapple-photographer @joshylanefleet @becinabubblegvf @ageofmach1ne

[esmes]

don't mind me - just some rainy day musings bc sweeney todd 2023 has rotted my brain

someone's tags on a gifset got me thinking about 2023 revival lovett and todd and the special something their dynamic has. there's something about this particular iteration of these characters and their relationship, especially as we see it evolve throughout the show (even as we've seen it evolve throughout the show's run), that just makes mrs lovett's betrayal and her death at his hands hit hard. i know, i know - she deserves it. she lies! she's a lying liar. her deceit is no small thing. any one of us would be incensed to have been misled the way she misleads sweeney. even if a small part of her may have done it, as she says, to spare him having to see what became of his lucy, the larger part was certainly to serve her own interests.

but there's something about how close mrs lovett gets to bringing sweeney around to her this time that just gets me carried away. they're not just business partners - they're lovers, they're co-conspirators, and they're sort of each other's only friend in the world. at this point, he indulges her flights of fancy. they know each other intimately. they joke with each other! he's likely had to listen to countless hours of her prattling on about her thoughts, hopes, and wishes. this is a man who, at this point in the show, is slitting people's throats without remorse. and yet he spends the evening on the sofa cleaning his pipe while he patiently listens to his girlfriend rave about a seaside wedding. when she takes his hand, he doesn't wrench himself from her grasp like he used to. he doesn't get up and walk out, which he could do. he accepts her - her presence, her company, her warmth. he may struggle to admit it to himself, but he does. he can concede that he loves her - just a little bit, though he can't quite bring himself to say the words. sweeney is fiercely loyal to lucy's memory, so much so that he clearly couldn't ever wholly give his heart to someone else, but, in that moment after "by the sea", you can see that he's softened toward lovett. they were both alone a long time before this, after all.

it's not the stuff of great love songs, but it's something. it's almost enough.

this is what ultimately makes the final living moments between them all the more heartbreaking. mrs lovett has always been a sympathetic character to me - a villain, sure, but not without her reasons. she's a woman alone in a brutal world. whether the character is an older or a younger iteration, she's been alone for a desperately long time. when sweeney returns to her after all this time, she sees her moment and she takes it. she's not letting her second chance at life get away from her without a few claw marks.

when sweeney kills her, he sheds no tears over it - but the grudging fondness we'd seen him beginning to feel toward her only serves to emphasize how monstrous of a deception it is. his "you LIED to me" comes out in an anguished roar. when he throws her in that oven, all the light goes out from the world. it takes my breath away every time. though it should, it doesn’t quite feel like justice.

i know not everyone loves annaleigh's interpretation, but i have maintained from the first time i saw this revival that the warmth she brings, the honeyed, deluded, comical sweetness that lures sweeney into believing life with her could be tolerable, if not ideal, was a brilliant choice.

that's why the leap into hell together works for me. some productions have had sweeneys that barely tolerate their lovetts, so a cold diverging of paths makes sense. these two definitely fall into a different category. it makes sense to me for this sweeney and lovett's ultimate fate to be each other. who else would it be? lucy did nothing wrong - she's not going where he's going. having made lovett pay for her lies, they can head on down (hand in unlovable hand!!!!!!!) to live out the almost-enough life they created with each other. and sure, her chirping his ear off for eternity would certainly make an appropriate punishment for his crimes.