#and i love the idea that his only goal is not dying but the cost of that is killing

[i-turn-characters-2-warrior-cats]

turn your current blorbo into a kitty!! >:D

Anon, I do hope you realize how many options you have left open.

But out of Hetch, Leshy, Habit, The Beast, Albatross, and Shadow Bonnie, the wheel of names chose Hetch, so here I go! (This post will lean into a more morally gray version of Hetch, if you want something different just ask!)

So, I decided on the name Hatchscratch! "Hatch" has connections to plotting, planning, and creating a plot, and "scratch" is connected to wounds, etching, writing, and pain.

In my previous post about FAtWWLi, (WC Genloss), I mentioned something about the employees being the gifted and the controlled. Hatchscratch falls into the first category. The Founder gifted Hatchscratch a few powers, and in exchange, Hatchscratch works for him for.....he's forgotten, honestly.

The whole mountain warps for the entertainment of The Founder, and Hatchscratch is part of it. He's the ideas man, the scriptwriter. Whenever Crashmask, Snowsight, Slimepool, or anybody really is onscreen, Hatchscratch is always behind the 'camera', directing the employees.

This means he has a large part in the blood, gore, and death. He hates himself for some of it and is numb to the rest, but still doesn't want to die. As The Founder is a powerful being, if Hatchscratch attempted rebellion, he would inevitably have caused his own death or worse. So, for now, he's helpless.

Hatchscratch has minor time-warping powers, view-giving (letting someone see from another point of view), he can cast a 'bubble of silence', and a weak ability connected to the transformation of others

That's all! If you desire more elaboration or another request, do not hesitate to contact me!

See ya!

[funnycreatortimetravel]

So the Madoka Magica movie is coming out and there's a lot of speculation about how it's going to end (or rather, be the start of a new series of movies/a show? Idk, it was extremely vague.)

And while I love the idea of Homura and Madoka ending up together because they both deserve some happiness, I can't help but feel like the best ending for Homura at this point is letting Madoka go so she can become a healthy adult (which, let's be real, that's not possible in this world.)

And by "letting go," I don't mean cutting contact or abandoning her, I mean they can still be friends while Homura can become a person who sees herself worthy of living with or without Madoka. Because as much as I love my favorite tragic lesbians, Homura isn't her own person in the relationship with Madoka.

Like, Madoka has a loving family, loving friends, and people cheering her on. And even if she doesn't believe she's good enough to do anything, she still objectively has things going for her, a safety net if you will. And she still has a goal in mind that doesn't involve one specific person, but rather she wants to become someone that people can depend on/wants to help other people (regardless if this is at the cost of herself.) I'm not saying it's a good or even a healthy goal but with some tweaks, I could see the goal becoming something she could work toward as a means of personal growth and not just because she thinks she's useless.

Meanwhile, Homura doesn't even have parents as far as we're concerned.

The only ties she has that we're told about are the catholic school she attended and the hospital she pretty much lives in. No friends, no family, and no aspirations of her own. And because of her circumstances, she really wouldn't be able to. It's no fault of her own. I get why, then, she attaches herself to someone like Madoka. I'm sure ANYONE would attach themselves to Madoka if they were in the position Homura was in.

And then that starts the obsession. A long, tiring journey in which this poor girl sacrifices her mental health, her youth, countless years spent trying to save this doom girl and her doomed friends while she herself is also doomed. She's pretty much made herself Madoka's sole protector while also not allowing herself to even do or enjoy the one thing she wanted in the first place; being Madoka's friend.

It's all but confirmed that Homura hates everything about herself as seen in her backstory and rebellion when she was destroying her labyrinth. Her saving Madoka is the one good thing she thinks she's associated with, so much so that she's OK with dying either to protect Madoka or in a world without her.

Like, the concept of one person being the only reason you continue existing is so unhealthy (note that I'm not saying their relationship itself is, it's just her mindset.) I completely understand wanting to help your friend you know...not die a terrible death, but Homura doesn't think she has anything going for her outside of protecting someone else and that's such a sad thought to me. She thinks of all her past friends as enemies now, and she alienated herself from everyone. She thinks, now, that it's her versus Kyubey, the other magical girls, and Madoka herself. The girl is borderline, if not entirely, suicidal.

I'm hoping so badly that in the next movie, this is the start of healing for Homura (though it probably won't be because Mr. Uro loves his sad/bitter-sweet endings.) I hope this is the start where she's able to piece together who she is outside of wanting Madoka, who she could've been had Kyubey not manipulated her and the other girls into making contracts, had her parents not died, had her body not been as fragile as it was, had her confidence been strong, had she felt she was good enough to befriend and get close to other people without fearing her hurting them or them hurting her.

Sayaka was able to let the bitterness of not being with Kyosuke go, accepting that even though she wanted him, she couldn't be with him and even if she was, she never would've been happy. She was able to realize the flaws in her "ideal magical girl" concept and accept the fact that she's just one person and even though she's not perfect and didn't get the thing she wanted, she's still able to be a hero in her own right in the company of people who actually love and support her because she's Sayaka Miki, not because she's a heroic magical girl.

Mami was able to be honest with herself, similar to Sayaka, that she's not a perfect person, that the perfect magical girl illusion was never her. She's able to admit to herself that she was inherently selfish that all she wanted was friends and family, and that there's nothing wrong with that. She doesn't have to keep up the pressures of being perfect and mature and all-knowing because, at the end of the day, she is still that little girl who almost died in a car crash that claimed her parents' lives, and she has to live with the fact that she didn't and wasn't able to save them even when she had the chance to. And she's able to come to terms with the fact that though she was alone, she didn't have to be lonely. She's able to realize that it's not too late for her and she can make her own family that will stick around with her, flaws and all. And she can be a good role model for her little sister surrogate and also orphan Nagisa, but this time, she can be a realistic big sister rather than an idealistic one.

Kyoko can move past the pain of her family's demise, and unlike Mami, feels as though she is directly responsible for it. She was a naive kid who only wanted the best for her family and yet, by doing the "right thing" her father goes on a massive suicide-homicide rampage and she's left to think that her naivety, that her wanting to do the right thing, was what killed them. But no, it wasn't. It's ok to have hope and to have the desire to help others and do the right thing. While the actions of the wish were undesirable, it didn't change the fact that Kyoko's heart was in the right place and that she could continue to try to help others without fear of it coming back to haunt her. She can let the tense guard she's had up since her family's death and enjoy the little things in life she never got to when she was too poor; food, drink, comfort, and having others around that care about you. While she thought that it was her wish and her misunderstanding of what her father wanted that ultimately killed her family, it's the same desire and intentions that push her to save Sayaka and befriend her and the other girls later on.

Now Madoka is an interesting case because she, like Homura, is sort of trapped in being who they were before they gained powers.

Now that Madoka is essentially back to where she started (unlike everyone else who at least has something/someone in their lives now in Rebellion compared to the OG series where they were missing those intimate connections) again,

she's left to feel like she's missing a key part of herself (only in the OG series, she was missing the confidence she had the in OG timeline as a magical girl whereas, in Rebellion, she's literally the missing part of the Law of Cycles) and you're left to wonder if she'll be satisfied, or will she challenge this new world that seems too good to be true, a world that was made just for her and only her?

And Homura?

Poor Homura.

Being an orphan and having no one, not even doctors or nurses it looks like, be close to you? Being unable to live comfortably due to a physical condition you had no say in? Having to be behind because of said physical condition and then having an inferiority complex WHILE teachers belittle you for things out of your control? So then you consider yourself a burden and truly believe only death and loneliness await you? AND YOU’RE ONLY 14???

And then you think you've met this amazing person, this girl who thinks you're interesting and cool with no ulterior notices, a girl with amazing powers that are as wonderful as her only to have the rug pulled under you and realize that the cost of those powers and your protection is her's and others like her inevitable demise.

So then you attempt to right that wrong because even further than your want to save your friends, you know the system that they're in is objectively terrible and needs to be torn down.

But then you try to warn said friends about the system and all they do is belittle you and admit they're comfortable in something that's designed to kill them before they turn twenty, and when (or even if) they're finally aware of the system and the terrible reality of it, they STILL blame you for not telling them sooner even though you tried your damn hardest? Or even worse, try to KILL you after they find out for themselves?

And then top that off with an oppressive alien race trying to control you and pretty much end your life prematurely or turn you into an immortal Lovecraftian Paper mache creature that looks like it was created by five-year-olds should you fall into despair at the hands of this default depressive system and you'll have to remain like that, killing and trapping people while you have no memories of your life as a human and have to live as an animal of pure instinct and evilnesses until some unknowing other magical girl puts you out of your misery, and the cycle will rise and repeat eternally.

Then not to mention other magical girls who try to "game the system" (which only leads to them dying/witching out even earlier, indirectly harming the girl you're trying to protect) or even worse, the girls see you as competition because they're insecure/power hungry instead of joining you in taking down the system set up so where death is an inevitable thing regardless, indirectly siding with the species that are literally killing them slowly but surely (and yet you're somehow still the problem in their eyes.) And then to add the shit sprinkles to this shit show of life, you have to battle this biblically accurate German clown of a witch that's a bunch of witched-out magical girls mashed together like a Cthulu-esque Ren and Stimpy-type creation (that's also pretty much invincible to everything that you and all of the nukes and missiles you store in a tiny, rinky-dink space-time shield you were pretty much cursed with while everyone else gets a built-in weapon.)

Not to mention the PTSD of having everyone and everything around you die and crumple to bits for 12 years over and over again, failing at every turn to complete the only goal you have for yourself (which isn't even for you, it's just saving another person because you believe you're extensible at that point) and at every twist and turn, you're beaten, bruised, belittled, scared, tired, pushed to the brink and all alone with no one to depend on because you're the ONLY one who can and will remember anything once you have to go back in time.

And then you learn the more you go back in time, the more fate and karma you're attaching to this girl which makes the aliens target her even more because of the level of potential she has. And even worse, you find out that the girl you've been fighting so hard to protect is now an entirely different person, lacking the confidence and outgoingness that made you fall in love in the first place, her desire to become a confident magical girl being unfulfilled because of you.

But you have to play the smaller evil. You have to deter her from making a wish, even if it means inadvertently scaring her away from the idea, even if it means being cold and calculated and harsh because she won't listen otherwise.

You have to crush that confidence because that desire will only lead to her death, but she can't know that because well, you still want her to trust you.

But because you've been trying so hard to scare her away from the idea of becoming a magical girl, she ends up becoming scared anyway and distancing herself from you, meaning you don't even have the comfort of knowing you two are friends anymore.

And even still, all of the other magical girls, including her, always end up dead or turning into witches no matter what you do, leaving you to fight the final boss witch alone and failing every single time because it's just too powerful.

But you can't stop. No matter what, you can't stop. Because stopping means death for you, the girl you love, and the entire world, whether it be because of Walpurgis or Madoka's witch which is only so powerful because of you and your time-traveling shenanigans.

So you do another timeline, and things go wrong like they have for the past 100 timelines so you're just numb to it now, and while you're fighting the boss witch, you get critically injured. And now armed with the knowledge that you'd just be putting an even bigger target on your friend's back, you resolve that your efforts were all in vain and useless and decide to just let yourself witch out because you have no other choice.

Only, you're interrupted by your friend, who's finally ready to put her fears aside and make a wish.

Your biggest fear is coming true and you're powerless to stop it.

So she makes her wish and becomes a magical girl Jesus pretty much and restores hope to every magical girl.

Every magical girl except for you.

She says your efforts are the reason why she was able to make such a powerful wish and thanks you for your service, as if you're an old veteran about to retire, and then she ejects you to a remade world, a world without her.

And you're doomed to fight in this world, the world she gave her life to protect, a world in which only you remember her. You don't let yourself become too close to the other magical girls for fear of losing that connection once the Law of Cycles takes them away.

So you're doomed, essentially. The one thing you've fought to protect is gone forever and there's no one but you left to grieve for her, and you start an endless fight against the new evil creatures in place of witches until you're about to disappear yourself.

But you don't even have the comfort of peaceful passing on because AHA!, that evil alien race wants to you use as a sadistic experiment to inflict suffering on you and the other magical girls while controlling the one saving grace you all had, to restart the terrible system you were trying to run away from in the original world.

So they place you in this fake simulation of happiness and fun and magical girl transformations all for the sake of controlling you and the girl you fought for and thought was safe.

So you take matters into your own hands and resign to destroy the labyrinth, even if it means your death, hoping the other magical girls put you out of your misery once and for all.

But if you die, then who would be left to protect that girl you love so much?

So you take matters into your own hands and override her power, creating an idealized world in which everyone can be happy at the cost of making all of your past friends your enemies later.

Even the girl you love and gave your life for time and time again.

All for the sake of keeping her safe once more from not only herself since you pulled a piece of her from the Law of Cycles, but also those terrible aliens who can only think about themselves and their sick curiosity.

I so badly want a happy ending for Homura, and I'm so hoping that that happy ending is one without magic or Karmaic fate or the weight of 26 years of repeated time travel or having to save her girlfriend from a terrible demise or dooming herself to magical Jesus type limbo for eternity all while she's the only one who can remember.

Outside of Madoka, what does Homura enjoy now in Rebellion? What were her dreams, if she had any? Her aspirations? What was her childhood like (even though we know it was lonely) was there anything in her life that even remotely made her feel that living was worth it?

If and when she becomes an adult, what will she be like? What career what she want to pursue? What interests her? What does she want the most for herself? Power? Fame? Company? Comfort?

And will it even be possible for her to enjoy anything outside of Madoka so long as she attaches her self worth to this one, ordinary girl?

Will she succeed in protecting her at the cost of herself? At the cost of anyone else excluding the kyubey?

Will she give up ultimate control over the world, or will she double down; ok with challenging her friends-turned-enemies all for the sake of her love?

And if so, will she succeed as Madoka's sole, eternal protector forevermore, or she be dethroned and killed, left to rot in a labyrinth of her self-hatred and mistakes? (God, I hope not.)

Or...will she finally be saved and released from the shackles of fate, time, and space so she can live her life as a normal girl, a life she wasn't granted even before she made her wish?

My excitement for this movie is beyond real.

[heathleaves]

I can’t stop thinking about Verna’s deals and her collateral - with Roderick it is straightforward, his bloodline ends with him which would imply he does love/will love his descendants… but never enough to overshadow his greed, only Lenore’s death at the end truly shakes him.

But Madeline - at first I thought the twins shared their price, their collateral, but Madeline never wanted kids. True, she might never had any because of the deal but she also mentions being against it in general - she wanted to be immortal on her own merit not fulfilling a woman’s role of childbearing and achieving immortality in this more traditional “prolonging the species” kind of way. And while she did everything to protect their family and the Usher legacy - and slayed while doing so! - I don’t know if she actually loved any of her brother’s children as individuals. She protected them, but also didn’t hesitate to threaten death if any of them threatened the collective and/or the company. While Roderick was also ruthless in these moments and encouraged the hunt for perceived traitors, I think there was genuine grief and loss during the last funeral - and this is the scene when I think it clicked for me that Madeline did not love the dead Ushers - the way she was sitting in front of the final coffins. It was a beautiful pose, the actress slayed. Madeline looked bored. And probably planning next moves with the company/the board. She had tried to protect them because they were Ushers, but they were nowhere close important enough for her to be her collateral - for her to feel the loss, personally.

What, then? At first I thought the whole cost was on Roderick’s side and the twins were a package deal, but then Verna’s insistence that they both confirm would sound off. And she stressed the part about them both going out together which, I think, is the whole crux of the matter.

Madeline’s collateral is her ambition and dream of achieving immortality, rather than a person she loved - the only one she truly loved is her brother, and she was prepared to kill him in order to prolong her own life - so that she could achieve her goal.

This is where the price of her deal comes in - she received all the means in order to complete it, all the money (that she chose in her conversation with Verna) and no consequences for her actions - but she is made to die together with her brother before she achieves her digital immortality, as we know her AI failed due to an example with Lenore.

It was rather skillfully arranged in the narrative because I think we had the key to that answer before we fully formed the question - i.e. Verna’s talk with Arthur Pym about the collaterals before the full scene of her deal with the Ushers, and both of those happening at the end of the series, so for the majority of it the viewers can solidify in their minds a pre-existing idea of the deal’s only price are the Usher children dying, only to have the inkling of doubt during Verna’s conversation with Pym and then the final picture happening in the bar.

Which is what makes me wonder about the third Madeline that Verna could see - the past we know, the present we know, but the alternate? Would she have achieved her dream through her own means, even without the money she said she wanted in her solo conversation with Verna in the bar? It does seem to tie-in with the theme of the poem Verna recites to Madeline - The City in the Sea. The poem’s main theme is a ruin brought on by riches, as Death presides over the once opulent city. This obviously refers to the fall of the house of Usher, and the fact that death conquers all.

But I wonder if it doesn’t also mean, more personally for Madeline, that she gave up her dream of achieving immortality, and exchanged it for money - that Verna’s personal message to Madeline is “You would’ve been magnificent, but money and riches are not the way to overcome death.”

Both Usher twins were obsessed with Egyptians, but Madeline understood you couldn’t take your treasures to the afterlife - I don’t know if Roderick understood it as well and only wanted the symbols of status, but Madeline wanted the money as a means to achieve her true ambition.

Perhaps her immortality would’ve been fame, if we go back to the conversation with Verna in the bar when she asked Madeline what was more important to her - money or fame.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Hey there, I just wanted to say that you got me hooked on your "The Grim Dark Archives" content. Like, it's a whole twist on the normal "I´m the truly nice and benevolent protector of the innocent" and all that stuff without being a full SG au, and I love it.

The idea that, despite all, the bots are aliens...and that they have their own personal agenda and way to do things, which is completely different from the human way in all senses, is both terrifying and awesome. Now, I´m dying to know more of the au, and most importantly...how the tfp trio fits in this dark version of the tfp world.

In canon, the bots truly love them...but in this au? 1) Either they don't, but pretend they do, or the most horrifying option...2) They do, truly do, they love them to the point of madness...but in their own way, which will put everyone around the kids (cause I see them trying to hide this behavior from the kids as to make things less stressing for their charges and easier for them) on edge.

Anyway, I love your content in general, my dude. I can't wait to the next post, wish you the best!

Oh I have PLANS for the TFP kids in TGDA. Both of the options you listed are partially correct. I don't want to give TOO much away, but to put it simply, in that AU, Cybertronians do not love, period. At least, not like us.

To them, bloodline, faction, function, and usefulness define everything. Everyone has a goal and ambition, and unfortunately for the children, they fall into the useful category. Not being born Cybertronian and consequently into any group means they are not kin. Their allegiance is not yet cemented so they are not yet part of the faction. And their function is so unknown to the bots as to be unworthy of trying to decipher. That leaves them only with their usefulness to keep them alive.

I will say this:

Optimus wants Rafael alive for a reason, and he has tasked Bumblebee with his care.

Jack keeps Arcee's attention off the team, and so until he expires naturally, he is to be kept alive at all costs.

Miko is a distraction for the Wreckers, ensuring they do not begin falling out of line.

June is allowed to remain because Ratchet wants to know everything about the fleshies on Earth.

Fowler is tolerated because he is a source of data. Other agents are not actively hunted, but they are not well regarded either.

I am so pleased The Grim Dark Archives has caught your attention! I write for it sporadically, but I am so very happy it is beginning to garner attention :D

[climbthemountain2020]

Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met - Chapter 22

Ch. 22 | Ao3

Thank you, as always, to the best friends and betas ever, @popjunkie42 and @witch-and-her-witcher

TW for depictions of violence.

“You kill her, my dear, of course.” 

The gasp of the crowd echoed and bounced across the high ceilings. Those around them reacted in shock, and the catch of it all finally hit Feyre. If Calla won, they would all be free, but Feyre would be dead. If Feyre won, the tasks would end, and they would all be trapped beneath the mountain forever, Feyre stuck as a mortal and everyone a slave for eternity. 

The only way the curse could be broken was if Feyre died. 

Do not even consider it. 

But–

No.

The command in his voice was enough to stop her. Could there be another way? Her mind raced with the options. 

Wear her down. You’re a better fighter by far, in better shape, more skilled. Go on the defensive and let her wear herself out. 

Do you think Amarantha would get bored and call a truce?

No. The word deflated Feyre’s small strand of hope like a sail without wind. But I think it’s your only chance. 

She could hear the words he didn’t say. That the best outcome would still be Calla dying, but making it appear as though Feyre wasn’t at fault– wasn’t to blame. That, if they put on a good show, perhaps Amarantha would be more favorable. She could hear in the tone of his voice that he had accepted his fate already. He was ready to remain here forever. 

So long as you are by my side, Feyre. 

Her heart broke at the admission, tore into pieces as she took in the situation about to unfold around them. She could easily beat Calla, but gods, at what cost? All of their lives? Eternity beneath Amarantha’s thumb? She remembered Rhys’s broken expression when he’d returned from Amarantha’s rooms. Could she suffer that forever, knowing she could have changed it? Could she live with killing Calla, who she once called her friend? If she were to live with the curse remaining unbroken, would her bargain with Vilja be null and void? Rhys had told her that he loved her, and nothing had changed. Would she remain mortal forever? 

Forever, even, was uncertain–once they found out she was human, how long could she possibly even last here? 

The questions rushed through Feyre’s mind like raging river, ideas and suggestions and hope tearing around her but remaining just out of reach. She closed her eyes to breathe. This was happening whether she had a solution or not. 

I love you, Rhysand. No matter what, I love you. 

“Once again, a shield will be put in place, just in case anyone gets any wild ideas about helping.”

She didn’t know whether or not Rhys answered her, the shield shimmering over her head and collapsing down to the feet of the crowd surrounding them. Her mind felt sluggish, her panic and uncertainty overtaking all else. She could feel her powers still, even contained within the dome, swirling wildly within her chest. 

She held Rhys’s gaze for a moment before turning, a look of boredom on his face but sheer horror in his eyes. Through the iridescent shield she could see Amarantha grinning down at her and Calla, pleased as could be. Tamlin was still next to her, but for the first time, Feyre was shocked to find him reacting. He sat entirely forward, as though ready to push from the chair, a bird about to take flight, his hands locked so hard onto the hand rests that his knuckles were white and the wood was cracking beneath them. 

Finally, when she turned to affix her eyes on Calla, her breath caught. There was nothing left in her eyes but rage, nothing left of the girl who had come to Spring, befriending her and stealing her dresses, taking treats from the kitchen and romping through the gardens. There was nothing left here but the fury of someone whose only goal was to survive. And Feyre was all that was left standing in her way. 

Amarantha had barely said “begin” and Calla was already launching herself across the ring towards Feyre with a cry. She dodged out of the way at the last second before the punch flew past her face. 

“Calla, please!” But Calla was already turning back, a snarl on her face and determination set in her eyes. She threw herself forward again, aiming with nails this time. Though Feyre had dodged, the shredded edges of them tore at her arm. They both stopped then, whatever left between them shattered as a single drop of blood coursed from the wound down Feyre’s arm. 

“See how the human treats those she loves? The mortals care, in the end, for no one but themselves.” Amarantha would not only use the outcome of this as a victory for herself, but a lesson to all others. Humans were not loyal, not to be trusted. Not like us , she would convince them, no matter the result here tonight. 

Calla struck out again, trying to aim a kick square at Feyre’s stomach, but Feyre had seen her coming. Calla was scrappy and willful, but not well trained. She was built for survival, her skills in the forest allowing her to be swift and quiet to keep her family alive. But those skills would not help her here. Still, Feyre would not attack. 

Rush after rush, Calla tried to land punches and kicks and anything she could on Feyre, but she was only succeeding in exhausting her already weakened body. 

“Calla, please. We don’t have to do this.” Feyre tried to persuade her, hands up as though she was placating an injured creature. “I don’t want to hurt you. Please.” Calla’s eyes were wild and her chest heaving. 

“You have taken everything from me.” 

“I haven’t taken a godsdamned thing from you, Calla. You killed Andras, you came to Spring. All I ever tried to do was be your friend.” 

“ Lies . All of it. You used me, all of you used me. You already had everything, and you took and took and took from me anyway.” She screamed the words as she lunged again, catching Feyre so off guard that she had to lunge and push Calla to get out of the way. Calla was exhausted, but she turned back anyway, pointing an accusatory finger at Feyre. 

“Friends, love, family. You grew up comfortable, you’ve never known pain, never known starvation.”

“You’re right. And I’m sorry. But you have to understand– ”

“You took Tamlin!” The accusation was enough to make Feyre give a startled laugh, which only succeeded in making Calla snarl at her. 

“Ooh, the plot thickens!” Feyre ignored Amarantha’s mocking observations and the voices of the crowd, continuing to try and de-escalate Calla. 

“I didn’t– ”

“You DID ! You took him away. He hasn’t cared a bit about me since the moment we came here. But God forbid you wind up in danger and he’s on the edge of his seat.” She threw another punch and Feyre batted it away. Calla had it all so wrong, and after everything she’d done, Feyre was demolished to know that, in the end, this was what Calla had thought of her.

“We’re family , Calla. You were supposed to be a part of this family! We wanted you there!” 

“Oh, bullshit Feyre. It’s bullshit and you know it. Are you whoring for him, too? You and your High– ” And before she could get the word out, Feyre’s fist connected with her face. The blood from Calla’s nose was coursing down her chin before she’d even fully stumbled back, the shock in her eyes turning to flashing wrath as she looked up from the hand cupping it. 

“How fucking dare you?” Calla hissed through her teeth.

All Feyre felt was defeat. “You don’t even love him, Calla.” 

Calla wiped at the blood on her face with the back of her hand, smearing it so she looked wild. “I won’t die here.”  

“Enough!” Amarantha’s voice rang out shrilly through the room, quieting even the most hushed whispers within the crowd to silence. “Enough talking. This is a fight to the death, not a family gathering. Guards?” She gestured again, and the guards turned and bent to pick up something behind the throne. Two of them stepped forward, tossing the objects through the shimmering barrier. There on the floor in front of them lay two stones, jagged and about the size of a hand. “Now, I am certain I requested a fight to the death. So kill her, before I grow bored of you both.” 

Calla was already surging towards the stone, Feyre’s feet feeling leaden as she stared. This wouldn’t end, not until one of them was dead. 

Calla was already rushing her with the rock gripped in her hand, and Feyre felt the hopelessness and despair in her own heart as she beheld her. She parried again, stepping out of the way at the last moment and causing Calla to stumble. She screamed her frustration this time as she turned on her. 

“Fight back!” Calla’s screams of anger sounded hysterical, and Feyre was reminded of the hollow, insane laughter she’d heard from her in this very room the day before. Feyre knew she could use her magic, knew she could predict her next move, but she hardly had to. Certainly, there was another way to fix this. Surely it couldn’t end this way after everything. 

Gently, quietly, Feyre dipped into Calla’s mind, unsure of what she could possibly do, but desperate to find a way that they could end this without death if one existed. She was horrified to find it was filled with nothing but rage and hatred, the once tangled and wild landscape of it now bent and marred by fear and fury and contempt. Her thoughts rushed past Feyre in brief, hysterical pants. 

I hate that cell.

I won’t go back.

Words were interspersed with half-broken images. The wind of the forest on her skin, the kiss of the first snow on her nose. She missed the woods, the mattress from her bed in spring, the grass under her feet.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the massive expanse of stars in the windows behind the throne.

I can’t kill her, she’s too strong. 

The only thing stopping Calla was her physical limitations, but the intent was there. She wanted Feyre dead, and she would not be leaving until she saw it done. In her mind, Feyre was the reason for all of this now, and no one else. Feyre saw the inevitability of it all; there was no other outcome now, because there was nothing left in Calla. 

I don’t think I can kill her, but Amarantha could. 

The thought slapped Feyre in the face like ice water as it dawned on her, as flashes of everything she knew whipped around in Calla’s mind. Feyre and Rhys, Feyre’s powers, every conversation they’d had, everything she’d witnessed and heard in Spring. It wasn’t just her fate in the balance. If Calla shared what she knew, it would be the end of Rhys, of Lucien, of Tamlin. All hope would be gone regardless of whether or not she won today. And Feyre could see the set look of determination in Calla’s eyes, could see it turning from anger to confidence.

Calla was going to tell Amarantha everything. 

Something inside Feyre felt like it tugged and snapped, the anger she felt over the understanding of what Calla meant to do tearing a hole straight through he and making way for nothing but rage. She wanted to snarl, to rip Calla’s tongue out of her still-moving mouth before she could put Rhys at risk. If she was allowed to speak, then Rhys was in danger, and Feyre would die before she let anything happen to him. 

In the split second it took Feyre to make up her mind, she was distracted just long enough for Calla to lunge and take her out at the legs, the two women tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. The dress Feyre wore knotted around her legs as she fought beneath Calla’s body, writhing wildly as Calla managed to pin Feyre’s arms beneath her legs. They were both breathing heavily, the panic in Feyre’s chest constricting her lungs even further as Calla pressed all her weight into them. 

Calla slammed the rock down so hard that Feyre barely moved in time, the shards of stone sparking against the floor and peppering her skin as she cried out. When she looked back up at Calla, there was nothing but horrifying resolve in her sunken eyes. 

“Please don’t do this.” She hated that her voice cracked, hated the sob working its way up her throat. 

“It’s you or me, Feyre. You’ve already taken enough from me. You’ll never get the chance to take anything else.” Calla lifted the rock far over her head with both hands, shifting her weight higher this time to keep Feyre from moving. “I am leaving this place, and nothing is going to stop me. Not even you.”

Calla had shot Andras with hate in her heart, and Calla would kill Feyre here with this stone, pieces of her brain and skull careening across the lacquered ground she’d worked so hard to clean while Rhysand watched. 

Rhysand . 

All she wanted was to see his face, to know that things would be okay. She hoped he would find his way out of here, prayed he would find something better. Perhaps there was something waiting for her next, too. Maybe she would see Andras again soon. 

It seemed like yesterday and years ago, the lessons she’d learned with him and Lucien, a different world, a different lifetime, even though his words still hung light and airy in her ear.

The key is to focus on what’s around you. Take in only the details, and don’t project–not your fear, not your worry, not your next move. Only the facts, then go with what you see. Let that help calm you while you choose your next move.

She could see Calla with the rock, feel her weight heavy on her chest, Feyre’s stuttered breaths beneath her and the tears streaming down her temples pooling hot into her ears. Her legs were splayed out on the ground–she didn’t even want to consider the view she would be giving everyone in the dress she wore as she died. 

She stopped. 

Her legs were moving. 

Calla had moved up on her chest, and her legs were free. 

Only the facts, then go with what you see. Let that help calm you while you choose your next move.

Calla whispered down at her as Feyre writhed. “Do you think that they’d all like to know the truth before you go?”

Feyre’s last bit of inhibition snapped, the urge to protect the male she loved overtaking all else. Calla opened her mouth, but Feyre was already moving.

Abruptly, her hips thrust skyward, throwing Calla so violently that she lunged forward, losing grip of the rock and dropping it within inches of Feyre’s head. Feyre didn’t give her a chance to recover. She ripped her arms free from beneath Calla’s knees. Her body moved on instinct, muscle memory and the impulse to survive and protect taking over. She pressed the pin she knew was hidden in the smooth leather of her wristband. Her arm swung up and around before she could change her mind. 

Feyre shut her eyes. 

It all took only seconds, barely a blink of time to carry it out, but the gurgling above her told her that her aim had been true. She felt Calla’s body twitching against her, her throat fighting against the blood for air and losing. She willed herself to open her eyes. She owed Calla that much. 

One, two, three. Open. 

She wished she hadn’t. The look of shock on Calla’s face, the betrayal there, went bone deep. They were both covered in blood, Calla’s hands gripping at her neck now trying desperately to keep the life contained within it, but the knife– the knife Tamlin had given Feyre to protect herself– pulsed as Calla panted, the blade lodged directly through her neck. 

Feyre fought to breathe, fought to think, as she slowly slipped her arm away, Calla groaning as the blade slid out. 

“Well, well, well. That was quite unexpected.” Feyre couldn’t listen to Amarantha now. Couldn’t bear to see the looks of Tamlin or Lucien or Rhys staring at her as Calla died. Calla’s body slumped to the floor, her eyes growing glassy as Feyre scooted out from underneath her, scrambling back on her hands and feet to escape the growing puddle of blood. 

“L–” The sound came out so garbled from Calla’s mouth that it was unintelligible. She tried again, her fingers grasping at the floor as she tried to look up at Amarantha. “Love. T-the riddle. Love.” 

She was going to solve the riddle. And for one horrible moment, Feyre hoped that she was wrong. Because if Calla came back from this, if she solved the riddle and won, then Feyre would have to answer for what she’d just done. 

“Oh, my dear.” Amarantha faked a pout as Feyre’s stomach turned within her. “I am so, so sorry. That’s not right. But I do thank you for playing.” She had won, and she knew it. Feyre hung her head as the light in Calla’s eyes died, her bloodied face dropping to the floor as the last of her fight left her body. 

“I’m so sorry,” Feyre’s voice whispered, ragged with horror and shame. But Calla’s near-unseeing eyes were focused on the windows behind Amarantha now. Feyre collapsed backwards, her back and head hitting the floor as she tried to breathe. She could still hear Calla’s wheezing, slowing now.

“The sky. I…the sky…” And the last breath rattled out of Calla’s lungs as the barrier fell to the ground around them. 

I’m here, Feyre. Listen to me. You’re alive. Get up. Don’t look. 

The words swam in and out of her head as she stared at the ceiling above them, the war scenes painted in gold and pastels. How could something so violent appear so lighthearted? 

You need to get up, love. Tell me you hear me, and get up. 

She did need to get up. She would not have done this for nothing. She would not throw away whatever remained. 

The crowd was still hushed around her as she got to her feet, her body hot and covered in blood, the dress she wore rucked up around her hips and legs. Her ears held a rushing sound as her vision swam and she bit back the urge to vomit. It smelled like copper and sweat; she could taste it in her mouth, feel it on her skin. She could not look at Tamlin– refused to meet his eyes or she would collapse.

She remembered Rhys’s words about Amarantha and forced her spine to straighten, forced her gaze to steel, then raised her chin to face the queen beneath the mountain. 

She would not be weak here. She would show no mercy. 

Amarantha’s head leaned on her hand, propped upon the arm of her throne. Her face seemed to be schooled into complacency, but months of knowing Rhys had taught Feyre to see beyond the mask. She had surprised Amarantha, and continued to surprise her even now. Amarantha had anticipated Feyre would win, but she hadn’t anticipated this show of challenge.

And she loved a challenge, loved a game. Feyre would use it to her advantage. 

The blood dripped from the tips of her fingers as she met Amarantha’s cold eyes. The queen held her stare even as she addressed the crowd.

“Well, everyone, it appears our little bargain has come to an end. A shame, considering how entertaining it’s all been.”

Feyre had not been able to win, presented with an impossible situation, but she had a card left to play yet.  

Feyre, do not–

She could hear the notes of hysteria in his voice as he realized what she intended to do.

“I will take over the tasks.” Her voice rang out clearly, despite the torrent of adrenaline making her shake. She worked to lock every single muscle in her body, tamping down the trembles as she straightened her shoulders and set her jaw. 

“I don’t think so, little one.The three tasks are done,” Amarantha crooned. Her tone was different with Feyre, no notes of respect, but not quite as mocking as it had been with Calla. Was it because she thought she was a fae?

“And I just won one.” The responding glint in Amarantha’s eye was dangerous, but it let Feyre know she had her interest. 

“One task. And one that was not even assigned to you.”

“It was assigned to us both, and I won.” The words stuck in her throat and she forced them out. “I won. So I will take on the bargain.” Now, she could see the anger at the disrespect rising in Amarantha’s eyes. 

“ You did not make the bargain, and therefore cannot take it on.” The words were laced with a hint of venom, and Feyre bit back her fear. But she had remembered the deal, memorized it on the day it was spoken. She had made sure, in the event of this, there would be a backup. 

“You told her to complete the tasks I give to prove that human love– loyalty– truly exists. If all three tasks are completed, his curse is broken, everyone’s curse is broken, and all of us can leave here and remain free forever. You agreed to those words, did you not?” The murmurs of the crowd crescendoed around her as Amarantha’s eyes narrowed. She had said those words, and the fae remembered. They all remembered. 

“It is hardly the same application,” she snarled. “You said it yourself: human love. She was human, and you are fae. It makes the bargain null and void regardless.” 

Feyre, please. I am begging you not to do this. 

But she had to. She thought of Tamlin, his need to run wild and free in the forests of Spring. She thought of Lucien, his estranged family and the scar on his face, and she knew in her bones that he’d fought for long enough. She thought of all the fae here with similar stories, with families. She thought finally of Rhys, his eyes haunted with the things he’d had to do here, the burdens he’d bore with no one to help for years and years. 

He deserved peace. They all did. 

I love you, more than life itself. It’s the only chance we have. 

She had not been strong enough to let Calla kill her and set them all free. Their freedom was now her burden to bear.

“I am not.” She let the glamour fall away, her ears rounding, her features becoming less fae and more human once again. 

Before anything else, she heard the growl leave Amarantha’s chest as she slammed forward in the seat. “You are human? ” Her head whipped to the crowd. “Rhysand! Did you know?” 

Feyre refused to turn, refused to give anything to Amarantha as she heard Rhys step forward from the crowd to speak. 

“I did not, my queen. Though I wondered why her healing was taking so long.” He’d done what she asked without hesitation. The queen’s eyes shot back to Feyre, fury painted across her face, but the glimmer of interest in her eyes let Feyre know she’d made the right choice. 

“How were you able to glamour yourself?” 

“There are fae in my bloodline. My late mother taught me as a child. I can only do small parlor tricks.” 

Feyre sensed movement in her periphery and looked down out of habit, Calla’s blood pooling and draining across the floor at her feet. She fought back the gag that nearly wrenched its way free, fixing her eyes back on Amarantha. 

“Very well, human. ” Her tone had changed, but it still wasn’t mocking. Feyre wondered if her time here, her secrets, hadn’t earned her some merit of at least curiosity in the queen’s eyes. “I have a compromise for you. An altering of the deal. You will perform another task. Only one more, since I have a feeling you haven’t been entirely uninvolved up to this point–with one caveat. If you fail, I get to kill you in whatever way I choose.” 

Was it worth it? If she didn’t win, all hope would be lost anyway. Did it matter how she went, in the end? 

“ And, your lover goes with you.” Feyre’s eyes instinctually went to go to Rhysand, before her mind caught up to remind her it was Lucien that Amarantha spoke of. She spun around in the crowd to find him, a set of russet and gold eyes settled on hers a few rows back on the other side. The crowd parted to give her a clear view. 

She pushed her power out, subtly, quietly, slipping into his mind. 

I’m so sorry, Lucien. 

Do it. I will gladly fight with you, Feyre. He tipped his chin slightly in a nod at the words.

“And the remaining conditions of the bargain are the same? I win, and everyone goes free. No more curses, no more entrapment under the mountain, no more slavery beneath you. I win, and you leave Prythian, and everyone remains free forever.” 

Amarantha’s teeth clicked in distaste at the specificity. “Yes.” 

Is it foolproof, Rhys? 

It is.

He was furious; he was holding back. She could hear it in his clipped tone, in his short words. She could feel it in her chest. But he would do this for her, he would help her, as he always had. 

“And you can always answer the riddle, little one,” Amarantha answered, her smile feral once again. She didn’t intend to lose. “It worked out so well for your friend.” She refused to look at Calla, could not see her once-friend lifeless and pale on the floor as her blood sluiced across the marble they had washed together. 

“Deal.”

“Deal.” 

She could practically hear the sigh from Rhys in her mind, the worry, the fear, the nausea. Was it his or hers? 

“Rhysand.”

“Yes, my queen?”

“See to it that you have some fun planned for our human friend before her big day. I’d hate to see any of this time go to waste. I’d like to see if she breaks as easily as her friend.” Feyre made a show of letting the fear spread across her face, made the panic surface just enough to please Amarantha before steeling herself. She even let her lower lip wobble a bit before biting it back, the smile on Amarantha’s face animal. The only goal was to keep her off their backs for as long as possible. If she thought Feyre might break, was breaking, she would leave Rhys alone to finish the job.

“I can’t wait to learn just everything about you, dear. They say you must know your enemy, and it appears I’ve fallen behind.” She grinned broadly. “We’ll see you soon, Feyre.” And Rhys was leading her out, the crowd parting as he did. She didn’t look at any faces, didn’t turn back once, she simply turned her head to the floor as Rhys yanked her by the arm out into the deserted hall and winnowed them abruptly back into their rooms. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” But Feyre didn’t answer, couldn’t say a word, the wave of it all crashing down on her the second her feet touched familiar ground and burying her alive. She would die under the guilt of it all, the pressure crushing her chest as her heart fought to beat. The sob finally won the battle to fight itself free from her chest, and Feyre broke. 

In a second, Rhys had her in his arms, his hand on the back of her head and the other on her back. The blood must be getting all over him, and still he held her close while she cried, the anguish pouring out of her now that they were alone. Her knees would no longer support her, the weight of what she’d done collapsing her very soul. 

She cried for what felt like hours, and still Rhys did not speak, did not leave. He held her until the sobs died down, the horror and shame replaced with a sense of emptiness–a terrible hollowing that had Feyre feeling worse somehow. He waved a hand and she heard the tub begin to fill. Wordlessly and gently, he tugged her to the bathroom, his hands soft and tender as he pulled the bloody rags of tulle from her body. She stared at the stone wall ahead of her, the steam from the bath obscuring her focus and blurred by her tears. 

He helped her in, the water hot around her as she sunk down into it. 

Rhys was there, kneeling outside the tub and rubbing a cloth across her shoulders, down her arms. He worked a lavender oil into her hair, washing and re-lathering and washing again before another small movement replaced the bloody water. He did it over and over again until the only evidence left was the scarring on her soul. No amount of scrubbing would set her free from that. 

It was so silent in the bathroom, the faucet slowly dripping the only sound. 

“I killed her.” The words had been rattling around her mind since it happened, but it was the first time she’d said it out loud. 

“I know.” He did. More than anyone, he understood. 

She remembered her and Calla on the hill in Spring, the willows waving in the breeze around them. 

I am not good at this, Feyre. I have never been able to depend on anyone but myself. I don’t know where to even begin.

She had done what she had known–she had depended upon herself. And still, Feyre had let her down.

“She was going to tell Amarantha about us. You were right. We should have stepped in sooner.” There was nothing but defeat in her voice, nothing but pain in the words. As she had at almost every turn beneath the mountain, she felt entirely unprepared, so out of her depth. It was the despair of it all that held her under, made her feel like she was suffocating with the weight of it all. “I failed her. I thought I was helping her, but I misjudged it all.”

Knowing she needed the touch grounding her, knowing that his hands were not enough, Rhysand stripped and stepped into the bath behind her, pulling her to his chest and holding her close.

Her words were a rasped whisper as she tried to speak through her tears, the raw emotion tearing at her vocal chords. “I thought she was my friend.”

Rhys pressed a kiss to her temple, smoothing the hair back and running his hands down her arms. “You did what you had to do to survive. You were protecting yourself. Protecting us. Protecting Prythian so that there is a future.”

“Yeah, but I still did it.”

“You did, and it is something you will have to find your own way to make peace with. I have done many, many things like this. I won’t lie to you, Feyre. It changes you, but I know how you agonized over it. I know how you fought to do the right thing–how you always fight for those you care about. Sometimes, there is only so much that we can do.” The tears started anew. It was something she would live with for the remainder of her life, no matter how long or short it might end up. She had taken a life, and even if it had been in self defense, the life had ended at her own hands. 

Perhaps, Feyre had been naive. She had chosen to see the best in Calla, to see someone who struggled, who had wanted a place and a family just like her. She had wanted that companionship, reveled in it when Calla gave her pieces. She had seen in her a kindred spirit, had even seen Nesta, but the trauma of being here had stomped out every bit of light remaining within her. 

Feyre shifted in his arms, laying her head back against his shoulder and looking up at him. “What if Tamlin never forgives me?”

Rhys’s brow furrowed. “I thought you said he didn’t love her?”

“He didn’t love her, not yet, but we still cared for her. We are still responsible for bringing her to Prythian. That’s on us. What if he never recovers? What if things never got back to the way they were?”

“What? Do you think they were mates?” 

“What does that mean?”  

He stilled behind her, as though choosing his words. “A mate is something beyond just love. It’s a soul partner, a match beyond all else. Their equal, their partner in every way. The Cauldron sees fit to bless fae with a mate so rarely. It’s special.” 

The words bounced around inside her, brushing against parts of her chest that her magic would typically reside. 

“And how would you know if you found your mate?” She asked, carefully. 

“It’s different for everyone. Sometimes, it’s a thorough snapping, like a twine falling into place between the two and pulling tight. Sometimes it’s a feeling of knowing that just grows stronger and stronger over time. A mating bond is something special, as unique as a fingerprint.” He lifted her hand, pressing their fingers together into a steeple then sliding his fingers between hers.  

“And do they always feel it? I don’t think Calla felt any of that for Tamlin.” 

He paused again, his hands running softly over Feyre’s arms. “No, not always. And one person can feel it long before the other, recognize it and wait until it appears for the other, sometimes years or even centuries later. Occasionally, they’re never recognized at all.  And between a High Fae and a human, who knows? Our records are spotty at best.” 

“If Tamlin was her mate, I don’t think either of them knew.” Wouldn’t they have felt more pulled to each other? They could hardly stand to be around each other for the majority of the time they’d shared a home.

“I’m inclined to think the same, but we may never know.”

“How terrible it must be, to have something so special and never have the feeling returned.” Feyre yawned and tucked her face into Rhys, the exhaustion of everything overcoming her suddenly. The world could be so cruel, she’d seen that here tonight and every day since she’d been beneath this mountain. She couldn’t imagine a world where she loved Rhysand like this, only to have him spurn her in response. 

He picked her up gently from the tub, the warmth of the magic drying her off touching her skin as he carried her to the bed. She felt him slip in behind her, his hands smoothing back her hair and placing a kiss on her shoulder. 

Mates. 

The word whispered through her mind as sleep took her under. 

A soul partner, a match above all else. 

The words sounded familiar, like a nursery rhyme she’d once heard. 

The Cauldron sees fit to bless fae with a mate so rarely.

Had Vincent told her about this? Surely, she’d remember that. 

“The plan of the cauldron, a true work of heart.”

Feyre had a thought, but it was gone before she could grasp it, drifting away from her consciousness before it could fully form. 

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[purplemoonabove]

*inhale* *hold* *looong exhale*

Okay.

I saw the last episode of Our Flag Means Death Season 2.

I’m a writer.

I’m not being mean, I’m not being judgmental. I’m just stating my personal opinion here, nothing else.

…

The ending for the last episode… could have gone into a different direction. Mainly with Izzy, and the Prince.

First, the Prince. Now, from what I’ve gathered: he was knocked out after everyone was poisoned, then was taken hostage, and then as expected, immediately escaped and shot Izzy while doing so.

… Why was he still armed?

Why wasn’t the gun removed? Why didn’t anyone check over his body, removing all weaponry he still have? It’s one thing to show that he lost, it’s another to be careless when free. And it came with a cost…

Speaking of cost, let’s go to Izzy now!

Now, his death was… I mean…

Okay, so. Season 1, I hated his guts. Season 2 made me start to love him. His death was something I would loved to see first season, but now, it was sad. I did feel sad seeing him go, but… here’s the thing: why have him go now? When he was still in development?

Like, giving a shock moment for the audience is clever, if you do it right.

From what I gathered, Izzy was still healing. He lost his leg, lost his position as First Mate, lost a lot of dignity until, as far as I know, he shot Ed during that storm scene. Now, we get him with a unicorn wooden leg, singing and being open with the crew, actually happy for himself… His death?

Yeah, that was too early.

I read someone’s post that Izzy’s death was planned from the start – and the actor finds out in the middle of shooting (What the hell?!).

Personally for me, if I was a writer in the show in joining debate on who and how a death will happen from the crew, I’d choose Izzy, but I would give him more development beforehand.

He was still healing. He was still adjusting. He was still be happy with himself. It was a position where the audience wasn’t comfortable with the change yet. And by that, I mean they, we, you’re still getting use to this new concept that Izzy was having since the first episode with his breakdown.

It was so new to him that new creations of self-focused goals weren’t made yet. A new lifestyle to try, while still being a pirate. New interests, new ideas, new hobbies – or bringing back old hobbies (that singing threw me off. He. Was. Amazing 🥹).

The writers should have given him more time to really change and for us to change with him. Show us that self-love is just as loving as being in a relationship, mono or poly, straight or queer. And quoting from another post I saw, he would have been more of a symbol to not only the LGBTQ+, but for everyone, especially those who don’t really hold on to the concept of self love.

(Damn. Izzy got rep with me. Amazing… This was lost potential right here.)

The Prince shouldn’t have been armed. If anything he either should have been disarmed, or tortured and “returned” to someone they would let live to send back to his father. Which can also further the plot as we know he is a prince, but we don’t know any single thing about his family. As far as we know, anything could happen through this idea.

Izzy’s death in season 2 was unnecessary. Dying in the last episode of Season 3 would have worked.

We’d be more comfortable, he would have a new lifestyle, he’d be happy… and the death would have been more honorable than it was. And more epic, like in a battlefield, and probably add a few more from the crew to die, too. Giving us a Harry Potter feel, with the number of beloved characters killed during the Battle of Hogwarts.

Like I said, this is just personal opinion on how I saw the show.

Happy for Ed and Stede. Happy for the wedded Pete and Lucius.

It just could have gone better. And deep. And realistic.

Season 3, I will be patient for you until then.

[eccentricmya]

In defence of Maedhros

A couple days ago I vilified him, read his character in a truly unfavourable light, arguing that he was never a good guy. Well, this time I'll defend him! I don't think he was truly a bad guy either.

I start once again by summarising the general opinion on him: he was good then he turned bad, very bad, or even villainous. The phrase that caught my eye was "he ended up doing the enemy's work". Well, yes, if we assume the enemy only wanted to eradicate the free people. But I'm of the opinion that Morgoth was erasing dissension and opposition to his 'rule', his goal was not wiping out people but subjugating them.

Maedhros never did that. Yes, he killed refugees (an act when seen through the perspective of the world we live in seem even more horrific), yes he ruined Doriath, but he did not do these 'unprovoked'. Had his demand of the return of the Silmaril been fulfilled, there would've been no second and third kinslayings. One may argue that his reaction to not getting the gem was disproportionate to the offence. And I will counter-argue that the same logic can be applied to the people of Doriath and Sirion, who valued a jewel over their lives. The fact that the Silmaril escapes with Elwing shows an unwillingness to give up the jewel, even at the cost of the lives of their people. The Sons of Feanor were not asking them to give up their freedom and live under a tyrant, like Morgoth was, they were asking for a mere trinket, the return of which would've prevented all that bloodshed. The kinslayings in Beleriand did not happen in isolation or for some grand evil plan. They happened because both sides put pride before lives. (At least the Falmari at Alqualonde had he excuse of defending their own creations, not a stolen one.)

All this on top of the Oath as a driving factor. The text gives it an almost sentient quality in its wording of its presence. For the third kinslaying the Silm says this: "the third of the great wrongs achieved by the accursed oath." Not by Feanor or his sons but by the Oath. To me, this reads like the Oath has taken an evil turn of its own, much like the One Ring. And you will bend to its will, whether for good reasons or not, and few will be able to resist its call. As many have pointed out, Maedhros did resist the Oath, both before Doriath and before Sirion in repentance of Doriath. That is not how a villain works for me.

Some speculation- it is said that Feanorions did not have the guts to assail Luthien while she wore the Silmaril, and I raise you this: what if they did not attack her and kill her as the Oath demanded because she had turned human and could no longer be reborn?

Which brings us, at last, to a very controversial idea. Why is killing elves so bad? Elves who have the option of rebirth with no loss of memories? I think most of us forget that they're not human who, once dead, will never return in the same form, or if they are indeed reincarnated, then unable to recall their previous lives or meet their loved ones from before. Elves get to return to life and resume their lives from before. Indeed, that is one of the prerequisite for rebirth- that they're ready and willing to take up the life they had before dying. So how is it as bad as killing humans? I feel callous and heartless saying this, but ending an elf's live is like uprooting a tree. It'll take years for it to grow back from the seed again, but it will grow, not in the same place or time but it will exist again. Not like animals who die. Once they cease to be, there is no coming back for them.

In conclusion, I don't think Maedhros is a true bad guy, which is why I used 'anti-hero' for him, though maybe 'anti-villain' would fit better. He's simply someone working with the cards dealt to them, chiefly the Oath. Now sure, that is as much a defence as voluntary intoxication is in hit and run cases, but even the Oath was not of his own wording or sworn in isolation or with full awareness of what it truly entailed (otherwise words like 'torment' would not have been used in relation to its effects). The one who chose to swear to Eru was Feanor, while his sons chose to follow him. It's a minute difference but it's there, which is why Feanor is still the far more condemned one in the eyes of the Valar.

[caffedrine]

While I'd normally put a disclaimer about this being a quick and dirty summary - I'll level with you. These are my two favorite chapters in Gilbert's route. I went a little hammy on them, but they are just so well done. If these chapters don't convince you to like Gilbert's route, nothing will.

This very short summary of chapters 17-18, I do not do them justice. They are absolutely amazing.

Lots of spoilers, I'm leaving out a lot of information, and there's no guarantee that it's accurate.

I made it so that I could follow along with the plot, keep track of the mysteries, and a few of the interesting scenes.

Spoilers for Gilbert's route

Spoilers, Spoilers, Spoilers

Gilbert finds Emma in her room drying off from a bath, because what are doors even for these days? To be fair, he does come in from her balcony. He notices that Emma is still drying off from her bath, and magically produces a dry cloth from seemingly nowhere, has her sit, and begins drying her hair himself. He had to come in through the balcony instead of the door because he was afraid of her adoptive father, the bookstore owner, Akatsuki, would find him and kill him. To be fair, that is exactly what Akatsuki intends to do. Right now, Akatsuki is talking with Sariel about the situation, having him explain to Akatsuki where they went so wrong with Emma’s safety. They were still ‘talking’ when Emma left to prepare for bed.

Gilbert thinks that Akatsuki is here to remove Emma from the court and will try to make her give up her role as ‘Belle’. Emma considers this briefly before deciding that she won’t leave. Even though her goal to bring Gilbert into the warmth of humanity is even farther away than when she started, she won’t give up. Gilbert tells her that her lofty ideals of peace through dialogue are very nice but ultimately unachievable. In the end, the only way the world will change is through violence. Emma thinks about the black rose Gilbert gave her, and what it means to be ‘dyed black’. She tells Gilbert that if no one tries, then there will be no chance of a better tomorrow. She hasn’t tried everything yet, so she won’t give up on him.

Gilbert warns her that the higher and loftier her goal is, the heavy the price she will have to pay. Is she ready to lose absolutely everything? Will she pay the final price? Emma returns that she has no idea what price her goals will cost, but Gilbert just calls her a liar. She knows, somewhere in her subconscious, she’s just refusing to look at it. Gilbert finishes drying her hair and settles down on her bed. Emma tells him to leave, and Gilbert pouts – she just talked about not running away from him and now she’s kicking him out? After all those times he played host to her at night in his room?

Besides, Gilbert wants to have a sleepover.

As if he didn’t care that Emma is gaping at him, Gilbert reclines down on her bed telling her that it’s fine, aren’t they friends? Oh, but does this mean that she’s aware of him as a potential romantic partner? Well, either way, Gilbert isn’t getting out of her bed now. Knowing Gilbert, and his policy of ‘participate or be forced to participate’ in his whims, Emma tries to compromise by setting a pillow on her couch. As she settles down, she suddenly finds Gilbert next to her, also settling down on the couch. It’s a sleepover, they’re supposed to sleep in the same place. Since Emma can’t bear to make a distinguished guest sleep on the sofa, they wind up returning to the bed. Gilbert then gets super cuddly; he reminds her of the first secret he shared with her; he gets cold and likes to cuddle up to warm people. He muses that it’s very cold in Obsidian, he’d just love to take her home with him.  

As Emma lies miserably in Gilbert’s arms, he mentions that he is thinking about participating in the 4-nation talks tomorrow. Emma quickly recalls the history – there has been no official news one way or another from Obsidian in the past ten years. The reason they agreed to host Gilbert was specifically to open a dialogue with him, and possibly come to an agreement with Obsidian. Gilbert explains that he has been declining to attend the meetings because he was too busy helping Emma, but the situation has changed. He’s decided that after ten years, he wants to establish a peaceful, happy relationship with her country. Everyone will rejoice at the news.

While this is what Emma wants to hear, she recalls what Gilbert told her about his movements on the battlefield ten years ago. He had been observing so that he could plan his future invasion of Rhodolite. What is the trap he’s laying now? Next to her, Gilbert’s body remains as cold as it ever has.

Later that night, Roderich climbs up on Emma’s balcony only to find Gilbert already there, standing over a corpse. Gilbert takes off his bloodstained gloves and tosses them near the corpse, and then pulls out a fresh pair. He asks Roderich to handle the cleanup. Roderich passed by Rhodolite soldiers on the way up here, they have the assassin’s accomplices already captured. But they must be sloppy if they let one get through. Gilbert disagrees, it’s Cyran who’s handling the security detail, he probably accounted for Gilbert’s presence. Or, maybe it was Chevalier’s idea to let this one through. Gilbert looks at the corpse and recognizes him as someone who was following Emma since this morning. Gilbert understands, Rhodolite has a lot of foolish people. To be fair, Obsidian has the same problem. Probably, all the countries are similar in this way.

Gilbert tells Roderich that the plan has changed. A lot. He can’t help it, it’s too fun spending time with Emma. Roderich promises to follow his decision.

The next day, Emma wakes up alone in her room, and is brought to Sariel’s office where Jin and Akatsuki are waiting for her. Sariel himself is participating, along with Leon and Chevalier in the surprise 4-nation talk being held that morning. Unusually Jin is somber and borderline morose as he explains the situation to Emma.

Thanks to the stunt Gilbert pulled during the White Rose Day Ceremony, all the ministers in the castle are against her. She’s about a day away from being put on trial as an Obsidian spy, and her identity will be independently investigated. When it comes to light that she’s Belle and the King’s dead, the anti-royalists will incite a civil war. So, in order to prevent a civil war and protect her, they’re going to send her through Benitoite and across the sea to Acroite with Akatsuki. The princes will write them a letter of introduction, immigration will not be easy but it will be possible.

Emma hates that Jin and Akatsuki are presenting this to her like they’ve already decided it. She reminds them that if she suddenly disappears, Gilbert will probably attack Rhodolite. Jin assures her that if Gilbert really wanted to attack Rhodolite, it wouldn’t matter if she was there or not. As for the King Selection – while all the rose petals haven’t fallen, she kind of needs to make her decision right now. He already has the certificate signed by Sariel waiting for her.

Well, okay then. She now has no excuse to stay in Rhodolite.

Jin apologizes, it’s because of them that her life is now in ruins. Even though they promised to protect her, in the end, the only way they can actually protect her is by sending her into exile somewhere else. Emma disagrees, thinking that she is also culpable in this. Maybe if she had been smarter, or made a different choice somewhere, it wouldn’t have come to this. She thinks about her last conversation with Gilbert, the promises she has made, and how it’s now impossible. Wetting a quill pen, Emma bends down to write a name on the certificate.

Suddenly Leon bursts into the room, doors banging against the walls, almost out of breath. He shouts at Emma to get the hell out of the castle right now. Now! NOW!!!! Why is she just standing there with her mouth open when there’s a perfectly serviceable window that she can jump out of behind her? Also, get the fuck out of Rhodolite city in 5 seconds. Don’t stop and get anything, the clothes on Emma’s back are just fine. LEAVE!!!

Clavis and an extremely apologetic-looking Cyran appear behind Leon and tell him to stop, it’s already too late. They’ve received their orders from the leadership, they can’t let Emma go anymore. Jin asks Leon to explain what all of this is about, and Leon tells them that the 4-nation meeting just sold Emma to Gilbert.

Leon describes the meeting; Silvio bitching that they’re suddenly at the whims of Gilbert’s schedule, and Keith awkwardly saying that while his nation wishes to remain neutral, he needs to make sure its voice is heard. He is also pleased that Obsidian, who has never responded to Jade’s continued request for official talks, is now willing to talk. Chevalier and Sariel are sitting with Leon on the side of Rhodolite, and Sariel begins the talk wanting to discuss Obsidian’s military movements.

First of all, what are Obsidian’s intentions with invading other countries? Gilbert replies that their large-scale invasions are a thing of the past, the countries they’ve acquired all agreed to be annexed peacefully. Chevalier notes that the ‘peaceful annexations’ happened after Obsidian flexed its military might. Gilbert explains that it’s all rumors and misunderstandings.

Silvio decides to cut in, he doesn’t care to go over past wounds, and he doesn’t care for idle talk. Benitoite’s demands are for a non-aggression pact and cooperative commercial development between the four countries. They also want to have open access to diplomatic channels. Chevalier seems to appreciate Silvio’s ‘cut to the chase’ approach and adds that in addition, they would like to lift mutual economic sanctions between them and Obsidian.

While Jade wants to remain neutral, Keith would like free trade to occur between the four nations. As for nonaggression pacts – depending on what is being offered, Jade may be willing to make some concessions. In Keith’s personal, not official opinion, he would like Jade to be part of the non-aggression pact. The entire room turns to Gilbert and waits for his response – the proverbial gauntlet of challenge thrown.

Gilbert smiles. He will accept their conditions.

After a silence that lasted at least ten years, Sariel asks if he means that he’s accepting everything.

Gilbert is saying exactly that.

He will happily make it clear that Obsidian will not engage in aggressive movements toward any of the countries here today. He approves of the idea of cooperative commercial development; right now, Obsidian’s industry is closed off, and it will one day reach its limits. What reason does he have to turn down an offer that benefits his country?

Also, Obsidian has many things to trade with. If he recalls correctly, Obsidian mines produce gemstones that are prized in the Rhodolite and Benitoite economies.

Silvio pokes at the implications of what Gilbert is saying, he asks what Gilbert’s conditions are. Gilbert assures him that it’s an easy condition that they will happily accept. Once upon a time, as a gesture of goodwill and friendship, Obsidian sent one of their highest-ranked Princesses, the Lady Kloss, to Rhodolite as a hostage. And what happened? Rhodolite betrayed Obsidian. Leon points out that Obsidian made ridiculous demands in return, but Gilbert just reminds him that Obsidian is agreeing to give them all exactly what they want. He just wants a guarantee in return. Chevalier asks what kind of guarantee a hostage can give him.

Gilbert admits that hostages have never swayed Chevalier one way or another, but for everyone else in the room, it’s different. Just look at Leon’s face.

Sariel turns and tries to calm Leon down, but Leon ignores him. He refuses to sell Rhodolite’s citizens for political favors.

Gilbert shrugs, that’s a shame, and now Obsidian must bare its fangs. He asks Chevalier to confirm what he knows about Obsidian’s military capabilities. Chevalier, now the center of attention, sighs in defeat. He tells them that if Obsidian went all out; even if Jade, Benitoite, and Rhodolite all combined their military strength, they will be defeated. Gilbert was able to demonstrate to him that Obsidian’s engineering is far more advanced than they had speculated. In terms of weapon power, resources, and soldiers, they are completely superior.

Chevalier adds that their commanders and strategists are still very poor and disorganized, but Gilbert disagrees. Obsidian’s strategists and commanders were very poor . . . ten years ago. He’s found ways to ‘reeducate’ those idiots.

If the three nations here rebuff Obsidian’s friendly overtures, he will unleash the Obsidian military host on all of them and raze them to the ground. But, if they agree to give him his hostage, he will agree to everything they want.

Warily, Keith asks whom Gilbert wants as his hostage. Gilbert smiles and tells Keith that he already knows the answer: the woman from the ceremony.

Leon isn’t an idiot, so he doesn’t need to look at Keith’s or Silvio’s faces to know what their decision is. He also doesn’t need to reminisce on what Chevalier, who famously let 1,000 hostages die for the ‘good of the nation’ will decide. Instead, he sprints out of the room.

Which brings us to now.

Well, while Clavis wasn’t at the meeting, he can guess how it ended since Chevalier had instructed him and Cyran to apprehend Emma a few moments ago. Of course, Clavis is a gentleman, and he refuses to harm women out of principle. And, if that’s not enough, he absolutely hates following Chevalier’s orders. He asks Emma what she wants to do.

Leon promises her that Rhodolite is full of smart, resourceful princes, and they will figure this out. She can leave and be free. Don’t worry about the good of Rhodolite, worry about herself for once.

Emma thinks about the conversation she had with Gilbert the previous night. He had talked about the price she must pay for ideals, and now he was laying it out in front of her. Trade agreements and non-aggression pacts had nothing to do with them. This was his challenge, will she stay true to ideals or run away from them before doing everything she can?

She also wonders about what Gilbert is really doing. Obsidian law is that the Emperor’s will is the law. Maybe everything that Gilbert has done, everything he is doing right now is from instructions from the Emperor. Maybe everyone is focused on Gilbert as the villain in front of them while the real villain hides behind him.

Emma tells Clavis that she will go with him and stay in Rhodolite.

Akatsuki tells Emma that he understands.

This is her choice and her decision. He tells her that she famously never took any vacation time off from working at his store, so he’s going to consider this her using her accrued vacation. She can go and have fun in Obsidian, but when her vacation is over, he expects her back.

Time passes with Emma in ‘protective custody’ while talks are concluded. Gilbert’s demand was for Emma to be handed over to him immediately upon the conclusion, and since it was actually safer for her to be outside of Rhodolite, no one argued the point. She was transported to a territory managed by Clavis bordering Obsidian while waiting for the handoff.

Unlike Silvio and Keith, Gilbert didn’t have an entourage. Instead, when he came for her, all he had was a carriage and a driver with a black cloak pulled low over his face. They make their way into Obsidian, and before long, Emma is in the capital city, just outside of Obsidian’s Castle’s gates.

Gilbert helpfully gives her the history of this area; this is the Mad Emperor’s favorite place to conduct public executions. There were times when the castle wall was covered with heads on pikes.

The soldiers lining up the road to the gate are all in strict formation and all salute as Gilbert and Emma pass. Gilbert tells Emma that he sent ahead her request to visit the Emperor, and he has received word that she will be received immediately upon her arrival. He asks why she wants to meet with the Bloodthirsty Emperor.

Emma recalls what happened just before she was handed over to Gilbert. Chevalier had suddenly appeared in the mansion and spoke with her.

Gilbert’s promise of a non-aggression treaty and commerce and trade are useless. Obsidian will attack them if it wants to, trade with them if it wants to, or completely close its borders if it wants to. The non-aggression treaty just cuts bureaucratic tape between Jade, Benitoite and Rhodolite if Obsidian reneges on its promises; to Chevalier the words are not worth the ink they were used to be written.

He wants Emma to go to Obsidian for a different reason. While they have scouts along the border territories, no one has managed to penetrate to the central district of Obsidian. They know nothing about what it’s like inside. And now Emma is going to the heart of Obsidian.

Chevalier calls for Lucien, and Emma recognizes him from the very brief moment they met. He’s a young man with long hair wearing an elite guard uniform, also sporting a pin with Chevalier’s personal seal. Lucien is going to follow Emma and Gilbert into Obsidian. He probably won’t be able to enter the castle, but he will be in the city. If Emma is truly in danger, she needs to somehow get into the city and look at the sky, and Lucien will help her.

Meanwhile, Chevalier has some things Emma needs to discover. The first thing: The Emperor of Obsidian hasn’t been seen on the battlefield for ten years, nor has he been hosted by the borderland lords. What happened to him and where is he?

Back at the present, Emma tells Gilbert that she’s officially Rhodolite’s hostage, surrendered to Obsidian as a sign of goodwill. It’s only proper that she formally introduces herself to the Emperor.

Gilbert understands that Emma feels that she must do it, but has he not already warned her? The Mad Emperor is violent and bloodthirsty. If she says the wrong word, Emma will be killed on the spot no matter what status she has. Even Gilbert doesn’t know what the right and wrong words for her to say are.

If Emma still insists, she should also know; the Emperor doesn’t hold audiences. He has never officially welcomed anyone, never officially met with any delegation no matter how high-ranked they were.

But Emma is special. So special that Gilbert is willing to use his special connections to give her a very brief audience the moment they arrive. Really, she should feel grateful to him.

When they enter the castle, Gilbert takes her to a room devoid of anyone else. There’s a blood-red carpet leading up a stairway to an ornate, empty throne, high enough that Emma has to crane her neck to look at it. Gilbert leaves her side.

He walks up the stairs, step by step, his humanity fading away the higher he gets until Emma thinks she can’t recognize him as him anymore. Gilbert sits on the throne, slouching a little and crossing his legs at the knee.

Gilbert officially welcomes her to Obsidian and asks if she has any words she would like to say to the Emperor.

[why-is-it-always-autumn]

An incomplete list of "Supernatural" characters who I think would be really really interesting as protagonists of a peggy sue-style time travel fix it:

Meg, from "Goodbye Stranger" to "Scarecrow". She never betrayed anyone but when she died she was friends with the Winchesters and half in love with Cas but now none of them know her, and with Azazel and Lilith back in play they're on opposite sides of a war. How does she reconcile her new perspective with her old one? Does she switch sides? Does she commit harder to freeing Lucifer, even knowing the costs?

Crowley. He would cause so many problems and get so silly with it. The plot is getting so wildly derailed so fast. Calling this a "fix it" is such a stretch

Mary, from post-canon to the night she died the first time. She would take this whole story off the rails. Angels and demons hate her.

The Ghostfacers, speaking of getting silly with it. They'd be solving exclusively their own problems. Somehow this snowballs into indirectly helping Sam and Dean? They could not care less what the Winchesters were up to but they set off some wacky chain of events that somehow ends up totally preventing at least one apocalypse

Becky. She would interfere so much and it would be so weird and confusing. She knows everything but literally who is this chick.

Claire Novak, from post canon to right after Jimmy gets possessed. This is a small child who knows too much but also has weird gaps in her knowledge. Her dad is possessed but are we sure she isn't also possessed?

Adam Milligan, post-canon to pre-Jump the Shark. Again with "this is a time travel fix it but only for this one specific character." Secret third Winchester brother throwing major wrenches into the Divine Plan

Jody. I just think she's neat. Bobby would be so confused. Jody is speedrunning her troubled child collection/trying to intervene before the children are traumatized

Ash. Yes he's been dead for well over a decade, but he finally broke into the secret room in heaven where they keep the time machines and he is going to cause problems on purpose. He knows most of what happened but it's dependent on what the angels thought was noteworthy enough to gossip about.

Sam, waking up like two days before Halloween 2005 with memories all the way through dying of old age in the last episode. His powers kicked in Way Too Strong wtf

Any random one-off monster with human intelligence, but it turns out after they died they met up with Benny and they're invested in whatever this is now. They keep following the Winchesters around and "helping" because they're just so interested in getting a first person view of the Drama.

Any random victim of the week, possibly doing a groundhog day loop until they can save themself. Sam and Dean don't even need to do anything this rando has solved this problem. This would probably be a oneshot.

A group of dead angels/demons working together to break out of the Empty, but as soon as they get back they all have wildly different goals and keep fighting each other. Maybe as a limiter if any of them die they all get kicked back to superhell, so they have to keep each other alive while thwarting each other, with Sam and Dean caught in the crossfire?

Similarly, a group of one-off monsters of the week teaming up to break out of Purgatory and get revenge, but a couple of them actually like Sam and/or Dean and are working against the others. Sam and Dean, again, have no idea about any of this

[agravemistake13ghosts]

IV. The Only Hell I Know Is Without You

A/N: I know it’s been a long time. I am extremely sorry. My hours have picked up at work due to a recent staffing issue as well as a promotion, so I have been very tired.

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: Graphic descriptions of suicide as well as language.

One day the earth will open wide And I'll follow you inside Cause the only hell I know is without you

Die For You Starset

Saturday, October 26th, 1957 The March House Madison, Ohio

Emily had never given thought to what her life would be like without Royce. Had never entertained the idea that he would be taken from her. So violently. Seeing his shredded, destroyed body on that table had shattered her. Taken what sanity she had and obliterated it. The agony that ripped through her as she’d pressed one last kiss to his lips had felt like knives tearing her apart from the inside out.

Nothing prepared her for the black rage that sank into her ribcage and spread throughout her body when Johnny had got off for murdering Royce. Taking the love of her life from her. He got nothing! He’d had the audacity to approach her and apologize.

He didn’t mean it. She knew it. He knew it.

“Not yet,” she had said to him. “You will be. I promise you that, brother.”

She had spat the word with so much acid and hatred that her half-brother had taken a step back. He had tried to hide it, but for that brief second, she had seen true fear in his eyes.

Good.

It hadn’t only been Johnny that had paid. While the eleven people she picked were those she knew would cost him the most pain and torment, she had other reasons for them. Johnny may have killed Royce, but others had watched him die and done nothing. Three adults had been present during the race and had done zero to stop it or even attempted to approach the burning car. They had paid with their lives.

“There are some debts that can only be paid with blood, my darling.”

She stared blankly at the blood on her hands. Her arms. Her feet.

Johnny’s blood.

“Found you.”

Johnny cried out when the cold steel of Emily’s blade sank into his shoulder. He fell flat on his back, Emily straddling him, her bloody fingers clutching his shirt, using her weight to restrain him, the knife plunging down over and over. His chest. His neck. His arms. His stomach.

Johnny was dying, broken, every breath he took sounding gurgled through the blood coming up his throat and out of his lips, spilling down his cheeks in macabre red streams.

“Wait, wait,” he held up his hands weakly, as if to ward off his younger sister’s frenzied swings. None of this made sense to him, she could tell. Johnny seemed hurt. Confused, even. “I-I’m s-sorry.”

Emily regarded him for a moment, knife clutched tightly in her fingers. After a few seconds, she reached underneath his head and lifted it, almost tenderly.

“Too late.”

Johnny had no time to react before Emily had struck the final blow, dragging her blade across his throat.

It was done. Johnny had suffered. Now he was dead. She had expected to feel some sort of relief. All she felt was pain. With Royce’s murder, Johnny’s escape from justice, and then her subsequent psychotic break and murder spree, she had not allowed herself to grieve. She had shoved it all to the back of her brain, not wanting it to distract her from her goal.

Now there was nothing between her and the crushing grief ripping through her being. Her eyes burned with tears as they landed on a picture of she and Royce together. She picked it up, her fingers clutching the frame tightly. A scream of anguish ripped its way out of her throat and she smashed it against her dresser, shattering the glass into pieces.

There was nowhere to run, no one to turn to. No freedom from the truth. She hugged herself tightly, her form trembling. She felt like she was being torn apart from the inside out, every breath more physically painful than the last, burning like fire.

TRIGGER WARNING FOR SUICIDE

Seeking nothing but a release from her torture, she snatched up her knife that she had abandoned on her bedside stand. She pressed the tip of the blade to the inside of her wrist. The skin broke easily under the sharp steel, blood spurting out and hitting the floor as she dragged the blade vertically up her wrist, sinking deep into her skin, stopping right before the crease of her arm. She quickly repeated her actions on her other arm, spilling more blood upon her floor.

She felt the agony leave slowly with every gush of crimson onto the wood beneath her feet.

END OF POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING SCENE

Still clutching her knife, Emily half-walked, half-stumbled over to her bed, curling up on her side, already woozy from blood loss and shock. With all her concentration, she willed every pleasant memory of Royce she had to the surface and closed her eyes.

Bukater Mansion Woods outside of Arden, Ohio Present Day February 2014

Susan watched from her seat upon the chaise in the foyer of the mansion as Royce paced back and forth for what seemed to be the fiftieth time. He was anxious, she could tell.

“Royce, what on Earth are you so worried about?”

She couldn’t wrap her head around what had him so upset. She realized that finding out Emily had committed suicide due to his death was hard to swallow, not to mention the fact that the subsequent pain and desire to see him again had bound her to Earth. What she didn’t understand was what had him so upset. Did he think that Emily had stopped loving him?

Whatever Royce was going to say was cut off by the door opening. The sound of violin music sounded softly through the air as Emily flickered into view, her beautiful violet eyes locking on his blue.

The slugger didn’t have any time to say anything before Emily collided with him, her shaking fingers clutching his coat tightly, head burrowed in his chest. His arms automatically wound around her, his lips pressing to the top of her head, the smell that was uniquely hers enveloping his senses, both comforting and familiar.

Dead or alive, he had Emily back in his arms.

A/N: I had to end it on a happy note.

[silversnowblossom]

so. i wrote this. it's the start of an au where Lyon doesn’t fight and abandon Gray when Ur crumbles, they stick together like Ur would’ve wanted, and go to Fairy Tail together

-

No. No, no, no. A litany of denials ran through his head as he stared at Gray in shock. “No,” Lyon said desperately. “You’re lying. You’re lying! Ur isn’t dead! Ur can’t be dead!” He had to be lying. Ur was—Ur was larger than life, the most powerful mage there was. There was no way she was dead.

Gray still wouldn’t meet his eyes. Lyon spun around, but all he saw was endless rubble and in the distance—Deliora, frozen in ice. Ur used Iced Shell, hadn’t she? She’d stopped the demon, hadn’t she? Then why was she dead? How was she dead?

He stilled, blood freezing in his veins. Ur had stopped him, earlier, when he’d tried to use Iced Shell. Why had she stopped him? Was it…? (What was the cost of Iced Shell? Why hadn’t she wanted him to use it?)

It clicked into place. Somehow, in that moment, he knew, down to his bones, that Ur was dead, and it was because she cast Iced Shell. (Which he gave her the idea to do. If he hadn’t tried to use it…)

Ur was dead. She was dead. The realization settled, wrapping like a vice around his heart. He lunged forward, because it was better to be angry than sad, and Gray was just sitting there and he wouldn’t even look at Lyon. He grabbed the front of his little brother Gray’s shirt and forced him to look up. “You bastard!” he screamed. “What about my dream? How am I supposed to surpass her now?”

He was supposed to become the strongest Ice Mage, finally surpass Ur, but he couldn’t do that if she was dead. What was he supposed to do now? He felt unmoored, lost in a world without the one thing, the one person, he always thought would be constant in his life. Without his sole dream, his only goal in life.

“Sorry...” Gray said, as though a single sorry would ever be enough to fix this. As though he’d merely just messed up again in training instead of single-handedly upending Lyon’s life.

“Sorry?! You’re sorry?” His eyes burned. “This is all your fault! If it weren’t for you— If you hadn’t challenged Deliora—” Ur was dead, because of Gray. 

Lyon drew back his arm for a punch, grief and desperation bleeding into fury, clouding his vision. You killed Ur! he wanted to scream, except the words lodged painfully in his throat, a sense of finality to them, something that once said couldn’t be taken back. But still, he forced them past his lips, because in that moment, he wanted Gray to hurt. To feel the same pain and grief and despair he was feeling.

In that moment, he was convinced that he hated Gray. 

(But in the recesses of his mind, he knew—he was going to regret this later. Because this was still Gray, was still his little brother. Because the rational part of him knew that Ur had chosen this. That she hadn’t had to come after Gray, much less use Iced Shell. And really—he was angry with himself, because if only he hadn’t tried it and given her the idea—well. It was easier to be mad at Gray than to acknowledge the guilt. 

Or the fear. Because Gray had come so close to dying today—for all that it seemed like he wanted it, which was a whole other can of worms—and Lyon would never have wanted that either. Would he have been happier if Gray had died and not Ur? 

…He hated that the answer wasn’t yes.)  

He dropped his arm instead, turning his back on Gray.

He was on the verge of storming away, leaving Gray in the rubble and wreckage (because Ur was dead and did he even care?), when he paused. And, maybe in another world, he’d be a touch more furious, his heart a touch more broken, and he’d walk away without hesitation, let the love fester into something approaching hate. But in this one—he looked back. And stopped.

A faint sheen of tears glimmered in his little brother’s eyes, and Lyon finally looked at his fellow student, really looked. Took in the dust in his hair and the faint dried tear tracks on his cheek. And—Gray hadn’t fought back. Belligerent, snappish Gray hadn’t fought back at all, had been limp as a doll in Lyon’s hands. That wasn’t—Gray wasn’t supposed to do that. He always fought back. (Lyon would’ve felt more justified being angry at him if he had.) 

Damn it. This wasn’t fair. Ur was dead, because of Gray, because he’d gone off running after a demon like a suicidal idiot (and if he’d been scared, too, when Gray had walked away, into that raging blizzard—well). Lyon wanted to hate Gray, and it wasn’t fair that he couldn’t. That he still cared. He scrubbed his hands against his eyes harshly, but—he couldn’t leave. He was still the older disciple and Gray was hurting too. It was his job to look after him, even if Ur wasn’t—Even if Ur wasn’t there. She would never have wanted him to abandon Gray. 

(And to be honest, he knew himself, knew that he could walk away, but would absolutely regret it later.)

Gray was the reason why Ur was dead. But he was also all Lyon had left and he couldn’t just leave him. 

“Damn it,” he exhaled, and stomped back. 

Gray looked up. “...Lyon?” he said, voice tremulous and painfully uncertain, a far cry from the angry boy he’d known. 

“Get up.” And it was rough, because part of Lyon still wasn’t sure if he could forgive Gray and anyway, Lyon had never been gentle, but it lacked the fire and hate from earlier.

Maybe Gray could tell, because there was relief in his eyes (relief that Lyon hadn’t abandoned him? Lyon wondered, stomach twisting at how close he’d come to doing so) and his voice was surer as he said, quietly, “Okay.”

you ever think about how gray feels so guilty about causing Ur's death but like. if you rewatch episode 15, you'll notice that it's lyon casting iced shell (or starting to, anyway) that surge of magic, that brings deliora's attention upon them. otherwise, they might've actually been able to retreat. like, ur could've just grabbed gray and hightailed it out of there, bc what does a demon care for three humans in particular? except then lyon attracted its attention and then it was too late. makes me wonder if lyon realizes this and that's why he's so mad at gray - to bury his own guilt/distract himself from it. better anger than grief and guilt after all

[majosullivan]

Started thinking how Siren brought up the possibility of them not being able to find a solution to the shark’s curse before the curse returns and tried to ask Kappa to kill him if it ever came to it before Kappa cut him off and then went further and further down that train of thought and really started to think about just how horrible of a situation that would be for Kappa.

Obviously, a scenario where he would have to kill his boyfriend, one of the first people that showed him nothing but unconditional love and care, loving him for himself, not as the beacon, is already heartbreaking enough. He’s already seen Siren get seriously injured when Siren dived in front of the spear for him, something that Kappa still feels VERY guilty about if his nightmare in episode 87 is anything to go off on, and has literally DIED with Siren because of Lord Ogo, something that I can see Kappa putting some blame on himself for, considering the reason Kappa fulfilled Ogo’s prophecy was because Ogo spotted Kappa looking at Siren and Neth and threatened to kill them if Kappa didn’t comply, as well as Siren helping him escape from Ogo. While what happened OBVIOUSLY wasn’t Kappa’s fault, knowing how frequently he blames himself for situations that were out of his control (we’re gonna get back to this), I don’t think it’s too far of a stretch. Being placed into a position where he would have to kill Siren, when he’s already feeling responsible for Siren being seriously hurt and originally dying, would probably break him, especially since he promised to take care of Siren while officially asking to be his boyfriend. However, there’s also the added factors of Siren’s own guilt and what happened with the lost people.

As we see in the season 3 premiere, Siren still holds an overwhelming amount of guilt and sense of responsibility towards saving his people, not believing he’s deserving of all the love and praise they’ve showered him with over the years and his having doubts towards his decision to living (also before I go into more rambling, the parallels of Kappa growing up with conditional love and got stuck in the mindset that no one would love him unless he was doing something for them, even if it meant doing something as extreme as cutting his scales off, and Siren growing up with unconditional love and believing he has to do something to be deserving of the love he has been shown, even at the cost of his own life is just so...*chief’s kiss*). The MOMENT he found out that he was the one meant to die in the prophecy, he was immediately willing to die to save his people, the idea that he could live and fulfill his goal of finding another way to break the curse didn’t even occur to him until Kappa talked to him in episode 41. Despite asserting how he he wanted to live for himself and all the growth he’s been through, with the pressure of saving the lives his people continually with him, it’s completely understandable that he would start to have doubts and become desperate to break the curse at all cost and sacrifice himself if he believed there was no other way. The idea of him going on to live his own life at the cost of his people is something he couldn’t bear.

Iconically, the sharks hold the opposite mentality. They all adore Siren, they’ve always wanted the best for him and when they found out the real prophecy, they all immediately agreed that they would never harm Siren. Susca hid the truth of the prophecy for 19 years in order to keep her son safe, even if it meant her life and the lives of the rest of her people. Shoal adventured out in order to find an alternative solution to the curse in order to keep his son safe, even though there is a VERY high possibility that he would die out there. The idea of them going on to live their own lives at the cost of Siren’s, their prince, and in the case of Susca and Shoal, their only child, is something they couldn’t bear.

On top of that, Kappa himself holds an overwhelming amount of guilt about what happened to the lost people. The tragedy of what happened with Kappa and the lost people could never be overstated. Everything about the situation was just gut-wrenching. Kappa had the survival of an entire castle placed onto his shoulders and was told that in order to help them, he would have to SKIN HIMSELF ALIVE...AND HE WENT THROUGH WITH IT. Oh, and did I mention this all occurred when he was a CHILD? LIKE PROBABLY AROUND 10 YEARS OLD? Going through something like that would already be traumatizing enough, but we already knows it doesn’t end. Despite doing what the prophecy said, it didn’t stop the affliction from spreading and appearing. Despite giving everything he could to try and help the lost people, he just wasn’t able to keep up with this deadly affliction that had no known permanent cure and was forced to watch everyone die one by one until there was just the healer that was taking care of him, Vinca. Although Vinca tried her best to comfort Kappa and tell him that everything that happened was not his fault and would never be his fault before she passed on, it’s completely understandable that in his traumatized mind, Kappa would hold himself accountable for what happened. This event undoubtedly played into why he went along with the shark’s prophecy when he first arrived at their castle. Him refusing to complete their prophecy would probably make him feel like he’s leaving another castle to die.

So, if placed into a scenario where they have no solution to the shark’s curse, Kappa would have to choose between killing the love of his life, being forced to live with the grief of the shark castle and everyone that knew Siren on his shoulders, on top of his own overwhelming guilt, grief and trauma from such a event, or refusing to kill Siren, leaving an entire castle of people to slowly die off, and although keeping him safe, would leave the love of his life feeling nothing but guilt for simple existing as he would watch his people and his family die one by one until he was the only one left, something that could DEFINITELY remind him of his conversation with Susca in episode 36 (even though the situation with Susca was very different, MUCH worse and she was clearly in the wrong)

ALL OF THIS IS NOT EVEN MENTIONING THAT KAPPA WILL BE THE FIRST PERSON TO KNOW THAT THE SHARK’S CURSE IS BACK. While Siren might have a strong feeling that it’s back, along with his dad when we finally meet him (cause I mean, come on, until we see a body and have multiple reliable sources confirming that he’s dead, that man is definitely alive), Kappa is the only person we know of that will be able to confirm when the curse has returned because of his connection to the prophecies, and thus, the connection between him and Siren returning. This means that Kappa might be placed into a scenario where he has the choice to tell Siren that the curse is back or hide this fact from him, which no matter how he decides to deal with the situation, it is going to be MESSY.

I could go into more rambling, but best to leave things for now and just finish off this off by saying Wendy is V E R Y good at what she does and I have no doubt she’s going to have a lot of fun working with this plot point

[anyydidi]

Yeah, so i need to talk about my AUs more. That being said, i recently thought of a new one im so in love with.

Basically our dear villain Eggman kidnaps our beloved Tails, because “yeah, that little brat makes my life miserable, lets brainwash him and use him as a lab assistant.” yknow the trope,,

Why did he simply not kidnap Sonic since he makes Eggys life even more miserable? Easy, Tails is way easier to capture and two geniuses on his side is way better than one.

But of course, something backfires and Egghead can try all he wants, but Tails just wont listen and behave. So he dumps him somewhere far from Sonics last known location so he doesnt get back that fast.

And not long after that, Sonic finds Eggman and demands his little brother back. And what? Sonic doesnt know that Tails is free yet? Eggy needs to take advantage of that! “oh dear Sonic! Your little sidekick is dead! Couldnt handle one of my experiments, such a shame. He had a lot of potential.”

And Sonic does not believe him, but he does get mad and his rage probably results in Eggman dying lol. (I thought about him going Dark or smt, but im not sure about that. Eggman does eventually die not long after though).

But we know that Tails is alive, so why hasnt he got back yet?! Well, what Eggman didnt know was that his brainwashing DID kind of work and he got some kind of amnesia, where he forgot basically everything (except some pieces there and there). Plus since Eggman’s goal was for Tails to forget he is Tails and that he had some connection to Sonic, he absolutely REFUSES to acknowledge he might be that genius inventor. He gets all mad and crazy when someone mentions he does look a lot like his old self. That’s why Sonic or anyone else cannot find him. He made himself a completely new persona and avoids his old one at all costs.

He does eventually (dont know after how long yet tho) reunite with Sonic and his old friends, because he is a VERY complicated person. The after effects of the brainwashing include him having some kind of urges and impulses to cause chaos. He robs a bank, committes some kind of arson or property damage etc, but he ALSO stays true to his morals and old beliefs and helps others a lot.  Like fighting with some villages against the new villain (something like Tangle before she met Sonic and comp.), or generally fixing other people’s stuff (thats why hes still not in prison, because all his bad doings are forgiven for his good ones).

So he does something bad, gets arrested and for some reason, Amy is at the police station and is like “wtf ur Tails omg?? We have been searching for u for years??” but of course, Tails refuses, so she calls Sonic and hes all like “jesus amy i told u to give it up, hes dead and- woah he fr is Tails.” and Tails STILL does not believe them, so they tell him that because he did something bad, he needs to help them on their new mission so he doesnt have to go to jail and he agrees.

Sonic and others then pretend to think hes not Tails so he doesnt get, how i said “mad and crazy”, until they stumble upon Eggmans old recordings of his experiments on Tails and he FINALLY gets his memories back.

They then of course need to work on getting all the brainwashing from Tails’ head, because it cant just ✨disappear✨, but he does get better eventually.

Oh and do NOT get me started on how Sonic is through all of this. The only thing you need to know for now is that he gets EXTREME separation anxiety after finally finding Tails, and gets overprotective af even tho he tries to hide it.

This took me mf 30 minutes to write. I have no idea how i did that.

[alovelyburn]

Rambles about the Conviction Art Part 5

Dreams and Hawks and Hawks and Dreams.

Rambles about the Conviction Art Part 5

1. So there’s something I’ve always found pretty interesting about the setup of NeoGriffith and Falconia and just the world as a whole and the turn it’s been taking, and that is how... performative it is. Like, Griffith turns up and brings all these monsters into the world and then saves people from those same monsters, and he does so by physically battling them even though he probably could just stomp them from the sky. Instead he goes through this whole show of bringing humans and apostles together and fighting them side by side with a sword instead of by crushing them with his telekinesis and...

Basically, like this isn’t something I’ll necessarily get heavily into NOW, but overall Berserk’s world has the feeling of a stage play - a story that is being spun by the Idea of Evil or by the Godhand - Skull knight even refers to Griffith as the author of the world’s story basically.

And the reason I bring this up now is because while it’s true that Griffith is the Messiah/Chosen/Desired, it’s also true that the suffering that came down on the world is largely orchestrated by the Godhand - on the last page of Revelations Part 1, you see Conrad enabling the plague, you know? Plus the conflict between Grififth and Ganishka is VERY performative and highly calculated.

But the morality of that stage play remains sort of ambiguous, like what is the end goal? What place is NeoGriffith trying to bring the world to, and for what purpose? And if they get there and it’s a good thing, does that make everything that’s been done to the world to achieve that thing justified?

No?

Even though it’s what humanity wanted? Because remember the only reason the Idea of Evil exists is because humanity created it. The only reason Griffith created Fantasia was that it was the world humanity desired. So now what?

These things are basically the reason I love Berserk. That’s why people simplifying the morality in Berserk gives me hives.

Kind of a tangent but it leads to this: these three chapters are like staging - its the Godhand (and Griffith particularly) moving pieces into the place they need to be in order to create the situation necessary for him to come into the world again. And that’s very interesting to me, particularly when we get to the end.

Also that one guy kinda looks like a werewolf.

2. Fascinating that the King is still chasing Griffith down after all this time - and doing it at the cost of Midland’s military strength. Yikes.

3. You know, the first time I read Berserk, when I was too busy gawking at everything to fully absorb what was going on (and also I didn’t know what was coming so I couldn’t pick up the patterns and foreshadowing) I did kind of wonder whether this Hawk of Light thing was known to the population as a whole. From the way Laban looks at the Holy See’s symbol when thinking about the Hawk I can only assume it is - that he realizes that they’ve received a revelation specifically that their messiah is coming. And then that made me wonder, because he also says that to all of Midland there is only one person a hawk can possibly symbolize.... makes me wonder whether there were people suggestion that Griffith was the prophesied savior during his days as a human war hero.

Also, I think I’m gonna check off those predictions as I pass them. So they’re listed below with the ones that already happened noted:

-The reaper references the death of the king as seen above. -kingdom of villages dying from plague is, well that’s this chapter -an army driving mammoth beasts: Ganishka and the Kushan army -a city devastated by earthquake with towns swallowed by raging torrents - TBA -corpses of both family and neighbor-  TBA -a sun obscured by black smoke - TBA although, I mean, thats the reincarnation isnt it rofl -mobs of starving vagrant folk - TBA

4. With scenes like this, I always think of it as partially evidence that the godhand in question creates those things and part that they are inherently present in those things due to their representative nature. Did Conrad specifically send a plague or is his spirit present because he is plague and plague is present?

....I kind of used to think it was the latter but now I think it was the former. It’s staging, man. Or rather, I think it can be both or either one, and in this specific case it does seem to be the Godhand setting up the world to desire salvation.

5. Foreshadowing for the way Griffith just straight up took over when they got back together?  I mean, I suppose he’s the appointed regent.

Its just so interesting to me how Foss becomes a Griffith loyalist.

And this is what I mean about staging right, like why is the King ill now? Isn’t it because his death is a necessary component in what’s to come? Which is to say he dies to make room for Griffith. Basically. Which I have no qualms about, he was an asshole anyway besides if he hadnt had Griffith tortured for a year, this wouldn’t be happening.

Speaking of the King, though...

6. This dream sequence of the King as he’s dying is great - it’s one of my favorite scenes. I’m not trying to be a King sympathizer, I mean see above, but that said...

Hes trapped.  He's in a throne room but the throne is raised above everything and the only people around him are soldiers. Those soldiers surround him and bar his way  - essentially they are his jailers and meanwhile he’s perpetually on the edge of freezing to death. When Charlotte appears he tries to go to her but they block him with their polearms and wont let him off the platform.

So... thats how he feels. And now that hes been separated from Charlotte there's no escape from it except inward, into madness.

@zombiesgohome​ notes that this also parallels what he had done to Griffith - he trapped Griffith in a literal prison to suffer and rot, and now he has become trapped inside his figurative prison where he, too, is suffering and rotting.

Which also goes back to the parallel roles Charlotte and Guts play in the King and Griffith’s lives respectively. Because Griffith held onto Guts’ memory in order to maintain his sanity, but the King is unable to do that - he cant reach her, and so he falls apart.

It is, I think, a suitable wrap for that previously raised comparison between Griffith’s feelings for Guts and the King’s for Charlotte. NOT MORALLY, I said this at the time but I’m not implying any kind of moral equivalency between the King’s incestuous obsession and Griffith’s love for a man. Rather I’m comparing the function of those relationships in each one’s life - the way the King and Griffith depended on them for emotional stability, the way they desired without being able to fully face that desire, the catastrophic reaction when they are “rejected,” although in Griffith’s case it wasn’t even a real rejection but hell he didn’t know that.

Anyway, while I’m here. let me just say it’s hilarious to me that even after ascending to become some kind of demonic archangel demigod thing, Griffith’s still enough of a petty bitch to specifically come bother the King and smirk as he takes Charlotte away. ITS JUST FUNNY OKAY.

That said, it’s also right in line with the way he treats Guts post-eclipse. Because the people who hurt him the most get the “fuck you, I’m going to do exactly what would hurt YOU and you can’t do anything about it” treatment.

An army driving mammoth beasts: CHECK!

Not a huge amount of Deep Shit happening in Zodd’s dream, but I like how when the “camera” focuses on the Hawk’s beak, the beak itself is drawn to resemble Griffith’s helmet... or Femto’s head.

Griffith wins Zodd the same way he won Guts - by thrashing his ass in a duel. A while later, Sonia refers to Guts as Zodd’s counterpart and I’ve read some theories about what that could mean but for me its always been fairly clear: Zodd is basically Griffith’s Guts expy. He’s won the same way, and he serves more or less the same purpose. This kind of goes back to the theory that every major member of the new Band of the Hawk somehow echoes/reflects a member of the old Band of the Hawk. That I think is a little more of a stretch - not saying it’s definitely true, but it could be reading too much into things. But Zodd and Guts, I think, is a much more straightforward and clearcut situation.

Also the way Griffith’s coming is foreshadowed in Zodd’s chapters with black birds - Hawks of Darkness so to speak, is pretty boss. But remember that line - “when the sky falls at the holy ground where blind sheep gather and erect a pillar of fire...“ the line Griffith leaves with Zodd.

And then Guts has a dream too.

Its funny because it seems like the only three people in Midland who didnt just get the normal generic revelation dream are Zodd, Guts and the King, right? And then Griffith specifically visits Zodd and the King. Then Guts gets a dream too, which is from the baby but follows the same pattern as the other dreams given by Griffith. And I bring this up because after Guts wakes up and the baby is there...

The baby straight up quotes Griffith word for word - the same lines Griffith left with Zodd. 

Each dream urges the recipient to do something that serves Griffith’s purpose - the King just fucking dies. Zodd submits himself to Griffith. And Guts.... runs off to rescue Casca, right? But it’s Guts and Casca’s presence in the same place that makes the pseudoeclipse, and thus Griffith’s rebirth, possible.

I don’t like to give direct predictions or theories but I will say that’s very interesting information.

So this is kind of short because I wrote a whole thing about the Guts and Godo chapters, but it got so long and dense that I decided to separate them out like I did with the Griffith mindscape post. SO UH. Idk stay tuned. Bai.

[callsignspark]

shoutout to Nick and Carole for creating our most special brown-eyed boy <3 here’s to hoping you find a cute enough bff substitute for Bradley. thank you for your kind words, responses below <333

i feel like this is such a random line for me to pick out, but i genuinely loved how realistic it was? like yeah we do and say this in a car and it’s just such a good little detail?? - thank you!!! my goal is to make this series and universe as realistic as possible so I'm so glad you noticed this!!!

yes bradley because she’s short circuiting that you called her HONEY - Bradley noticing the woman he has feelings for is falling asleep: I must call her cute petnames

BECAUSE REUBEN IS PLANNING THE WEDDING!! (but also the turkey avocado sandwich and mac and cheese are elite panera selections) - REUBEN IS CRUNCHING THE NUMBERS AND FIGURING OUT HOW MUCH IT WOULD COST TO GET THE ENTIRE DAGGER SQUAD TO VEGAS IN THE NEXT 48 HOURS. (if there's one thing our girl Mary has - it's taste. in food. in men. immaculate taste.)

bradley boy got GRILLED by the real in-laws i see - LMAO YEAH. it was half "what are your intentions with our daughter" and half "she's so stupid when it comes to flirting, just tell her or she's not gonna get it"

i love him keeping an eye on the car the entire time and the older guy calling him out on it - Bradley is two thing (1) fucking vigilant when it comes to the safety of people he cares about (2) pathetically in love with Mary. these two combined and he almost took out a Korean War vet (who totally understood, he was the same way about his wife)

she def seems like the type that doesn’t like to necessarily have favors like this done for /her/ or have to owe people for things? yet she’ll be the first to stick her neck out for someone, sweet girl - mmmm yeah. poor girl. absolutely hates having to ask for help. loves when people notice she needs help and offer to help, cannot stand actually receiving the help though lol. she's working on it.

oh oh OH i am so soft for this!! honey and sweetheart! i’d melt! and she’s burrowing deeper into his side! - he's the perfect pillow! and he smells good! who wouldn't burrow??

i just hate that she doesn’t see or doesn’t want to see how much bradley does like her? i want them to have a super sweet and cliched first date (i keep thinking of our convo about a potential way he could ask her out and get excited but also sad when i think of it) - can everyone who is in favor of beating up her shitty ex who made her supremely insecure in relationship, please raise your hands? everyone? okay we ride at dawn. (their first date is very sweet!! it is miles away from cliche though!! but so cute!)

i got butterflies at this! miss girl is really going out of her way in trying not to get her heart broken! - she's trying to keep herself from getting hurt! (she's also not realizing completely that he's trying to have it be just the two of them. so it's not totally her protecting herself. like I said. she's dumb (affectionate))

very good idea i like a man who thinks stuff like this through! but also i’m dying to know if there’s a christmas gift exchange now? - he's a planner! sometimes he goes off the cuff, but when it's big things like this, he p l a n s. and we talked about this a little bit but there is a secret santa that happens! we won't get a lot of detail about it (unless I actually do write that party one shot lmao) but spoiler alert! Bradley is Mary's secret sanata and Mary ends up with Bob!

this is so soft of him!!! and her cute little dimple!! - they're literally marshmallows they're so soft. her dimple!!! it only comes out when she smiles really big!!!

SHE LEANS INTO IT 😭😭😭😭 i need it i need more - SHE LEANS INTO IT!!! more coming next Friday!!

Mar(r)y Me | part 3.5

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult and extremely unsupportive family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, eventual smut, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 2.4k

previous part | series masterlist | main masterlist

note: it’s Bradley’s birthday! to celebrate this is a one shot/continuation of part three! originally this was supposed to be part of part three, but it got cut during editing. however, I really love this and I could let it just sit in a doc. so, I spruced her up some, added some more detail and viola!

part 3.5 - Panera Bread

The walk through the parking garage goes by too fast for Bradley’s liking. Too soon he’s having to drop Mary’s hand to open the passenger door, making sure she’s settled before closing it and getting in himself. “Alright, next stop Panera.”

“Hopefully, it’s not too busy…” She trails off when his hand brushes her neck, checking behind him as he’s backing up and not even noticing his effect.

He hums, braking so an elderly couple can cross. “It’s a little after seven, so I don’t think it’ll be bad - we should have beat the dinner rush. Clear that way?”

“After this white SUV, you’re good.”

The drive is comfortable, the radio occasionally interrupted by quiet conversation. They run into traffic on the highway, an accident taking four lanes down to one, and when they arrive at the restaurant, Bradley realizes Mary has fallen asleep in his front seat. He goes through the motions of parking and turning the car off, hoping she’ll have woken up from all the noise by the time he gets to her side. She doesn’t.

“Mary?” He gently shakes her shoulder, but she doesn’t budge.

He sighs, feeling bad about waking her up. She hasn’t gotten much sleep the past few days, but he knows she needs to eat more than she needs to sleep right now. From the second the decision was made to go to the hospital, Mary had been on the phone coordinating behind the scenes. Making arrangements for Dani’s parents to fly in from Philadelphia and picking them up when their flight got in at midnight. She had kept the Daggers updated with the latest; news coming into a specially created group chat as soon as she knew it. She watched Annie taking care of the four-year-old as if she were her own child. She had done all of that, and more, so that Danielle and Reuben could fully focus on the arrival of their newest family member without worry.

“Mary? Mary, c’mon, you gotta wake up so we can eat.” He unbuckles her seatbelt, smoothing some hair off her forehead. The touch wakes her up. Bleary eyes meet his, her nose scrunching up in distaste at being awake, and a small whine escapes her throat as the parking lot lights glare in her face. Bradley instantly feels himself soften.

“Okay, honey, you stay here, and I’ll get the food. What do you want?”

He gives her brain a minute to come back online, appreciating how cute she looks as her pretty brown eyes blink at him in confusion. “Uhh… Greek salad with chicken, extra olives, and no tomatoes, please.”

“Greek salad with chicken, extra olives, and no tomatoes. Anything else?”

“No, thank you.” Her eyes are already getting heavy, and she lets out a little yawn.

“Okay, buckle back up, and you hang out here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He hands the seatbelt to her, making sure he hears the click before shutting and locking the car.

His phone is up to his ear and ringing as he walks up to the ordering kiosk, thankful he parked in a space where he’ll be able to keep eyes on the car the entire time he’s inside.

“Rooster, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. What else does she like from Panera? She asked for a salad, but that doesn’t seem like enough if she hasn’t eaten since yesterday.”

“Why aren’t you asking her?”

“She fell asleep on the way here, and I felt bad enough waking her up to ask what she wanted, so she’s sleeping in the car with the doors locked.”

There’s a moment of silence so long that Bradley checks to make sure he didn’t get disconnected. “Payback?”

“She likes the mac and cheese, that wild rice chicken soup, and the turkey avocado sandwich. But what’s most important is that whatever you get doesn’t have tomato on it.”

“Is she allergic?” He pauses his tapping on the menu pad, glancing outside to check on Mary.

“No, she just doesn’t like raw tomato on sandwiches and salads. It’s a texture thing.” There’s murmuring on the line. “Yeah, like Dani said. She likes the iced papaya green tea, so get her one of those. And a cinnamon crunch bagel for breakfast tomorrow since she didn’t get to go grocery shopping like she usually does. And just Venmo me for whatever you get her; we owe her big time.”

“Nah, I got it this time.”

“Oh, Rooster!” Dani’s voice comes through clearer. “Remind her that she needs to get gas in the Jeep before work tomorrow; she’s running low.”

“I’ll just fill it up for her after we get home.” He mutters, trying to decide whether to get two or three lemon drop cookies.

“Damn, you are down bad, aren’t you? Just remember what we talked about earlier, dude.”

“Reuben, trust me, the last thing I want to do is hurt her.” He fumbles to grab his wallet, trying to hold his phone and their cups at the same time. “Alright, man, I gotta go. I’ll text you when I get her home.”

He pays and almost runs over an older man as he moves to fill their cups. “I’m sorry about that, sir. Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“That’s alright; you were just keeping an eye on your girlfriend. I get it.”

“Oh, I- uh-”

“Your eyes have been glued to her since you walked away from your car - which is a beauty, by the way.” He claps Bradley on the shoulder. “Girl is even prettier; don’t mess that up, son.”

“Yes, sir.” His face hasn’t been this hot since his mom came home from work early and caught him making out with his first girlfriend in the living room.

Bradley finishes grabbing the food in a daze, thinking about what it would be like if the woman sleeping in his car really was his.

Mary shifts when he gets in the car, peeking an eye open to make sure it’s him before she snuggles back under the blanket he keeps in his backseat. His heart soars at how comfortable she is in his space. He wants to make a joke to hear her laugh, wants to tell her how beautiful she is so he can watch her cheeks turn pink, wants to press his lips to hers so he can find out what she tastes like.

He settles for taking a photo and sending it to Reuben, his fellow pilot responding with a crowd of laughing emojis followed by rows of kissy faces.

The drive to Mary’s house goes smoothly, and he feels less bad about waking her up this time. Her key is in her front pocket, and he can’t even think about trying to get it out.

Her hair has fallen from where he pushed it back earlier, and he can’t resist brushing it away again, letting his fingers run through her soft hair. “Mary, wake up; we’re home.”

She groans, pulling the blanket over her face. “No.”

Her petulance makes him laugh; he’s never seen her grumpy. Even at work, when she’s frustrated at schedule delays, she is mildly displeased, at worst.

“C’mon, honey. You gotta eat.” Her hair disappears, and he pulls out his trump card. “I got you mac and cheese.”

An eye appears as the blanket lowers, squinting at him in suspicion. “I didn’t ask for mac and cheese.”

“No, but you haven’t eaten since yesterday. You need more than just salad, even if you did get chicken on it.” He tugs on the edge of the blanket. “Come on, I’m hungry too; let’s go eat.”

Once inside, they move well together. Bradley pulls out food while Mary grabs utensils. She stops at the living room entrance, her mouth dropping open at the food spread across her coffee table. “What is all of this? There’s only two of us!”

“Well, there’s your salad and mac and cheese. I got a sandwich and chips. Plus, our cookies and drinks. And Reuben mentioned you didn’t get a chance to go grocery shopping, so I got you a bagel and sandwich for work tomorrow.”

“Bradley, that is so incredibly sweet of you, but this is too much. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing, it was my treat.” He pats the couch next to him, “Sit. I wanna watch Parks and Rec.”

“Dinner was your treat. But the other food was not part of our agreement. So how much?”

“Mary, seriously, nothing. Come sit with me and eat.”

She huffs and plops down next to him, her thigh brushing his as she leans into him. “I will pay you back somehow.”

He wraps his arm around her shoulder, rubbing her arm as he teases her. “Would it kill you to just let me do something nice for you and say thank you?”

“Thank you, Bradley.”

“You’re welcome.” He unwillingly pulls away, handing her the bowl of mac and cheese, waiting until she has a full mouth to continue. “Also, I’m filling your Jeep up before I leave. And you will not fight me on it. You can pay me back for it later.”

“Yes, sir.” She mocks him, not catching his gulp as she laughs at Pawnee’s latest antics.

Four episodes later, with full bellies and the extra food stored in the fridge, Mary’s head drops onto Bradley’s arm. He peeks down at her, smiling at how her mouth forms a little circle, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks.

“Mary.” She hums at him, trying to burrow deeper into his side. “I promise this’ll be the last time I wake you up today. But we can’t stay here, sweetheart; you should go sleep in your bed.”

“Don’t wanna move, I need to shower, and that requires too much energy.”

He pauses, forcing himself not to let the visual of her showering take its full form. “Well, I can’t help you with that one. But how about you relax while I get gas, and when I get back, you get in the shower and go to bed?”

“God, I hate when you think logically. Let me grab the keys.” She sighs, dragging herself up and into the kitchen. “Here, this one is obviously the Jeep, and this is the house key, just in case I’ve fallen asleep by the time you get back.”

He laughs, admiring her where she’s lounging on the couch, wiggling her fingers at him as he locks the door behind him. Her car is an overload for his senses; the interior smells like her perfume, subtle and flowery with a hint of orange. He has to push the seat all the way back so he can fit behind the wheel.

He thinks about her the entire time he’s pumping gas. How caring she is, how smart, how beautiful. He’s been working up the courage to ask her out, and it seems like everyone has given him a kick to just do it already. He wants to ask her, to take her out properly - dinner and a movie or something equally cliché for a first date. But every time he suggests coffee or lunch with just the two of them, hinting at it being more than friends, she turns it into a group affair.

Danielle and Reuben had been encouraging, telling him that he would have to be a bit patient, that Mary may not realize what she was doing. But he wasn’t convinced she wasn’t letting him down easily. Trying to brush him off because he wasn’t getting the hint.

On top of that, it felt like a bad time to ask her. With Christmas only a couple weeks away, parties and last-minute shopping and holiday travel is beginning to dominate everyone’s schedule. He didn’t want their first date to get lost in the hustle and bustle of the season.

I’ll ask her after the new year. He sets the goal as he re-enters her house.

He calls out for her, seeing the couch empty and the blankets back in their proper spots. Moving further into the house once he hears music playing. “Mary?”

He can hear water running as he moves toward the music. The shower. She's in the shower. He’s stuck in place. He’s trying to keep his imagination from running wild, but it’s hard when he can hear Mary humming along to Jim Croce while she washes her hair.

He moves down the hall, awkwardly standing outside her open bedroom door. He croaks her name; she doesn’t hear him. He hesitantly shuffles into her room and parks himself in front of the cracked ensuite door as the water turns off.

Clearing his throat, “Mary?” His voice breaks like a teenager. He smacks himself.

The music lowers, “Bradley? You’re back?”

“Uhh- I- uhh- yeah. Filled the Jeep up and pulled it into the garage for you. I’m gonna take your house key with me so I can lock the front door and give it back to you tomorrow if that works?”

His eyes bounce between the floor and the door, waiting for her answer.

“That’s fine! Thank you so much for everything today, Bradley! I really appreciate you. Let me know what I owe you for the gas!”

“Will do. I’m gonna head out unless you need something else?”

“No, I’m all set. You did a good job taking care of me.” The door opens, and she’s standing there in a baby blue robe, hair wrapped in a towel. Her face is fresh, if tired, and she looks more relaxed than he’s seen her in a week.

“Feel better?”

She hums, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s amazing how showers can make everything better. Seriously, Bradley, thank you for everything you did. It’s going to make tomorrow so much easier.”

“Any time. You just let me know when you need something, Mary.” She smiles up at him, the dimple in her chin pops out, and he feels butterflies erupt. “I’m gonna head out, still taking your key, though. You finish getting ready for bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She leans into the kiss he presses on her forehead, eyes closed for a moment after he pulls away. “Night, Bradley.”

“G’night, honey.”

She stays leaning against the doorframe as she listens to him pull his shoes on and lock the door behind him. She can faintly hear the door of the Bronco closing after he gets in, completely unaware that his thoughts match hers.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck. 

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fic tag | credit for dividers here

[doctorofmagic]

My thoughts on What If... Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

The very title of the episode sends a shiver down my spine. And this is where we’re going to start.

~ long post under the cut ~

A year ago, I wrote this post as an attemp to dive into one of the most important traits in Doctor Strange’s personality: love. Stephen is a being made of love, made to love, no matter which interpretation you have when you watch Infinity War. If you don’t read comic books, you’ll understand the moment you meet Donna. You’ll begin to understand how her death reshaped his entire subjectivity out of fear of failing, being powerless and unable to control everything around him (especially death), thus the arrogant and yet a disaster of a man we all know.

Where do I even start? Stephen loved her sister deeply and felt responsible for her death. And then, slowly, he also lost his parents and his brother. He fell in love with Clea but he also pushed her away. He loved Zelma platonically and lied to her, which was enough for them to break their bond. He felt attracted to Kanna but screwed things up, even though they remain friends. He was forced to kill the Ancient One, the only father figure he had ever since his father died. And lastly, the only person who would never leave his side... also left. Yes, even Wong. Stephen has SO much love to give but he’s also afraid because he’s cursed. He truly believes his love in poison. And would you look at that? What If really delivered a story where this is actually true.

What If Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

The level of understanding when it comes to the character is... inconceivable. What could possibly reshape Stephen into following a dark path but love? The very premise of the whole episode. This is so much more than a love letter. This is literally too much, in all senses.

Fine, let’s begin.

What if the best of intentions has very strange consequences?

No. You used the word “strange” for the pun but this is not the word. Nah-ah. I’d go with ATROCIOUS, for starters. Things are gonna escalate so quickly, my friends.

Seriously, tho? Christine is SO SO SO SO beautiful, they’re so cute together. I have this feeling that MCU!Stephen was quite toxic because of his arrogance and this is why they didn’t work out. But WhatIf!Stephen???????? He’s always praising her, teasing her in a healthy way, respecting her and listening to her. HE TRULY LOVES HER, I’M GONNA CRY ALL OVER AGAIN, PLEASE, NOT THE CRÈME BRÛLÉE, PLEASE

I’m going to leave this shot here because we need to go back to it later. Hold that thought.

And bonus points to “Yeah, well, I would call that quite remarkable.” / “Well, I would say the same about you.”

GODS. THE PAIN. STOP THE PAIN.

So in this reality, Stephen didn’t caused the car accident because he was checking his phone while driving. Also it was not the reckless attempt to pass the truck. Well, maybe it was the consequence of this act? The fact is, the car behind them loses control, which makes them crash. Does it matter? We’ll learn later that no, it doesn’t.

And yep... Christine dies. Have you noticed the shattered heart? Ah, the pain only gets better and better.

Again, Stephen blames himself. More than anything, this is so important because Stephen is all about guilt. We still need to meet Donna so we can add yet another layer of guilt. But the feeling exists. This is what corrupts Stephen’s heart and soul in all his iterations. This is what makes him the character I love so much. I love this SO. MUCH. In addition, his stubbornness to accept his condition. Man won’t take a no. This, this is Doctor Strange in character. Stop complaining about NWH Stephen, it’s pathetic.

Okay, “grief-stricken”, Stephen found the Mystic Arts and became a sorcerer. That’s when he learned about the Time Stone, the Eye of Agamotto and Dormammu. Nothing changes, he saves the universe. But time does not heal his deepest wound.

I love Wong so much. Every time Wong does something, the world is healed. Really. We’re going back to him as well but for now I’ll just leave this shot.

BUT STEPHEN, DOING SOMETHING RECKLESS? HE’D NEVAH

Aaaaaaaannnnnnd then he did.

He goes back in time. It’s been two years since he lost Christine. I think he reacted pretty nicely, despite the circumstances. Now let’s go back to that shot I said I was saving for later.

Stephen is so light-hearted here. Also, during the first time he lost Christine, he had no idea what “The Price is Right” was. He knows now, which means he probably tried to learn more about the show because of her, because of grief. HAHAHA MORE PAIN

AND THEN HE

AND THEN SHE DIES AGAIN

AND THEN HE KEEPS GOING BACK IN TIME

AND SHE KEEPS DYING

AND THE MUSIC

AND HIS VOICE

AND HE TRIES TO CHANGE FATE BUT IT CAN’T BE AVERTED

HE EVEN TRIES TO STAY AWAY FROM HER LIFE BUT SHE DIES ALL THE SAME, WHY

AND EVERY TIME THEY CRASH, HE FEELS THE PHYSICAL AND EMOTIONAL PAIN AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN, WHY

I’M-- *ugly sobbing noises*

Apparently, not.

And this scene when he simply... closes his eyes before she dies again...?

This is where this episode had me in endless tears. It got me the four times I watched it. I’m dead serious.

Okay, so, next the Ancient One appears to Stephen, explaining that Christine’s death is an Absolute Point in time. It cannot be changed. Stephen needs the accident to become the Sorcerer Supreme and defeat Dormammu.

And this is where Stephen starts his journey into darkness. “Nothing is impossible, you taught me that. I only require more power.” Disobeying the Ancient One, Stephen then travels in time, seeking the Library of Cagliostro. Now, if you’re not aware of that, Cagliostro was a sorcerer who studied time in comics, and later became Sise-Neg (there’s a recent post on this because of the new Defenders run). It’s funny to think that Sise-Neg also destroyed the world when he became a god, however he grew past his pettiness and remade reality. Stephen did not possess such power, as we’re about to see.

PS: “Stop torturing yourself, Stephen.” Naur but he should use this line like a mantra. Especially comics!Stephen.

Not gonna lie, tho. This place reminds me of the Temple of the Vishanti from T&T (of course I was going to insert T&T somewhere, it’s me).

And of course they’d go for a pun with his name haha. I don’t know how to feel about this, tho. I feel like the episode is too heavy and dark for comedy. But it is what it is.

Okay but why some books are in cages??????????? And wow, it seems Cagliostro also gathered knowledge about several fields of magic.

And then Stephen learns that, in order to break an Absolute Point, he needs to absorb more power. This is when I went “oh-oh, here we go”.

And for real, is this Shuma-Gorath? Why are they keeping his name a secret? Is this the same creature from the first episode with Captain Carter, right? RIGHT? It has to be Shuma-Gorath.

Of course he tries to be polite and ends up all hurt haha. O’Bengh warns him about love but he will not listen. “Love can break more than your heart. It can shatter your mind.”/ “Is she worth the pain?”. Please, this is Stephen. He eats pain for breakfast.

Also, also, let’s take a break. We’re finally going to get monsterf0cker tentacle-lover Stephen Strange. It will cost us everything but here we goooooooooooo (yes, I went frame by frame for your more obscure fanservice needs)

Gods, I love this sequence so much it hurts. Okay, here we go.

Shmebulock???????????

AND HE STOLE THE CAPE??????????? AND DREW THE LINE ON BUGS??????

The grasp this man is holding on me right now...

Some of you will understand. I’m with you.

And here are the grostesque ones. These are hard to take SS but I had to.

Animation, sound effects, OST? CHEF’S KISS TO ALL

And lastly... the tentacles. Yeah, if you’re new... this is a thing.

Fanservice. Fanservice everywhere. (low-key the reason I also waited to write this review, I wanted to enjoy this part so badly but I was too sad for that lmao)

Okay so. O’Bengh is suddenly OLD and DYING, until we realize that Stephen spent CENTURIES absorbing mystic beings. CENTURIES. WTF STEPHEN. He had nothing in mind but the goal to save Christine. And people wonder why he went insane???? I’m sorry, O’Bengh, but I can’t take you serious when you still call Stephen Sorcerer Armani. Oh, and also because you watched him absorb beings for centuries in silence lmao. But I guess I have to because you said that Stephen is split in two since the Ancient One cast a spell on him, splitting the timelines and making them exist in the same reality before he could travel back in time. I know, it’s complex. Anything for the plot.

And now good!Stephen has an evil!twin who wants to absorb him back in order to become whole and break the Absolute Point. Cool.

I said I wanted to talk more about Wong because I think people are not talking about him enough. Wong is so important in this episode. He’s the one who’s trying to heal Stephen after Christine. He’s Stephen’s anchor.

Also, THEY FINALLY USED A SPELL WITH THE NAME OF THE VISHANTI. HOORAAAAY

So, for the sake of our understanding, I’m addressing the characters as evil and good!Stephen. Let’s go. Evil!Stephen summons good!Stephen and gods, he still holds such a strong grasp on me... unbelievable. THE DEEPER VOICE BENEDICT USES???? PLEASE, DIDN’T WE HAVE ENOUGH?

Imagine his strength to hold so many beings inside him, fighting to control him. BRO, THIS IS TOO TOO MUCH

Fine, I’ll not post SS about the fight because I’d be here all night long but I WILL say this: NOT CLOAKIE!!!!! NAAAAAAAAAAUR

Also if you ask me if I recognize any of the spells? Maaaaybe the Flames of Faltine, the not-so-crimson Bands of Cyttorak and a little trick Magik does with her portals. That’s how far I go.

I’ll not comment on the “seducing yourself to stay in the trap”. I will not. I’ll just say that the first person Stephen thought of when “Christine” was talking about the crème brûlée was Wong. That’s it.

And finally evil!Stephen absorbs good!Stephen and releases... UNLIMITED POWER (I love when the stone goes red as if it was bleeding aaaaaaa)

I can fix him...

This scene here? Poetic cinema. (I love his wings so much)

And when Stephen says her name and the other monsters’ voices echo “Christine”, AAAAAACKKKK

AND OF COURSE CHRISTINE WOULD FREAK OUT, BRO. LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE BECOME BECAUSE OF YOUR TWISTED LOVE. I’M NOT DOING FINE.

Oh, but it’s too late anyways because Stephen broke reality haha. This scene is interesting because Stephen is the only one who sensed and/or talked to the Watcher until now. I read an interview that the Watcher kinda showed up but it’s also about Stephen’s keen senses. Bit of both, let’s say. Still, man, 616-Watcher is not that cold. 616-Watcher would watch this and say “how about I intervene anyway?”. WhatIf!Watcher is brutal.

The way Christine looks at Stephen one last time also KILLS ME, DESTROYS ME, BREAK ME INTO A MILLION PIECES.

And this is where my soul left my body.

This is how they end the episode. This is how you leave me speechless and with teary eyes. This is how you give me a whole existential crisis.

This... this was brutal to watch. Really.

What can I say after this? I’m used to reading painful things when it comes to Stephen. Aaron’s and Cates’ runs are heartbreaking on so many levels. Hickman’s New Avengers is not easier. Coincidentally, What If? Magik Became Sorcerer Supreme and The End. And now Death of Doctor Strange. And yet, after everything I’ve been through, I’d never expect to watch something so brilliant, so tragic, so heartbreaking and unexpected in the MCU. Never. This is top tier content and this is my favorite character with SO MANY LAYERS and SO MUCH UNDERSTANDING. I can’t put into words how meaningful this whole episode is to me, or how deep it touched my heart and soul.

I’ve been struggling to find the proper words since then, I still can’t. All I can add is, I cried for the 4th time now. This is too, too much, even for Stephen stans. Even for the ones who are used to pain, regardless of which media you’re into: comic books, live actions or animated movies. This is literally more than I can take and yet I’m so, so grateful. The voice acting, gods, how did Benedict manage to create a better Stephen than the one he’s literally playing in real life???????????? HOW

This episode really took the max potential Stephen had to offer as a character, added tons and tons of layers based on his grief, depression, arrogance and need to control everything and created a tragic masterpiece. In 7 years of being a Doctor Strange fan, I've never read or watch something that could go this deep into the character. The closest I can think of is Mr. Misery and the metaphor of Stephen's depression. This is a whole new level of respect and understanding. This is more than a love letter. This is peak maestry. It’s perfect, it’s heartbreaking, it’s... gods, I can’t.

Sorry for dragging you until this far. Before I wrap up this review, I just wanted to remind you all that Stephen will appear again, he will smile again, he will be surrounded by people again. So this is not the end. It was painful but be brave. We still have a few more steps to take.