#anyways creation as devotion my beloved

[oldestenemy]

...i made another rosary

[yandereunsolved]

One false promise leads to another

Pairing: yandere Kai Anderson x fem aligned reader/gender neutral pronouns Summary: A Goddess becomes conflicted at the slander of a mortal claiming their spirituality. Inspired by @doll3tt33 's spiritual counselor!Kai bot! Go follow her. Her bots are spectacular. trigger warning(s): religious themes/cult, sexism, dubcon kissing, talks of forced impregnation word count: 1.07k Authors note: I have mixed feelings. I kind of hate this one and like it, but I wanted to share it with you all anyway.

Your sacred temples ransacked, the offerings of your devoted followers gone dry. The beginning of time was sparked by your power. The galaxies were created by your nimble hands. The stars are your testimony to all the lives you created. The humans are your scared flock. 

Over the centuries, you have guided humanity with a dutiful hand, fighting back against the forces of darkness. For when you sprung the world into creation, creation itself came along with destruction, and that destruction threatens to swallow you whole.

For even with your holy beings at your side, false phropets still arise. Those who wish to make your influence non-existent. Those who preach your falsehood. Those who twist the minds of your beloved creations into mush. Those very few are smited by your very hand. The essence of their beginning was wiped from the face of reality. For a real God doesn't need a false prophet.

Once again, like clockwork, a power-hungry mortal vying for an ounce of your ability claws their way into your sacred residence. Your greatest temple was torn down centuries ago by colonizers. Your chosen few were slaughtered. The God of destruction was sweeping across your lands, and you were unable to fight back. So now, after all this time, the land called Michigan belongs to destruction and not creation. The house of a cult that guides lost lambs towards damnation is in the same place where your temple used to sit proudly. 

Destruction mocks you. Your transparent hand dipping into the formation of another galaxy as you create it like revered art. Crystalline tears slip down your angelic features as a storm brews over mortal land. Your heart once filled with the adoration of mortals now filled with their sorrow and woes. Your mind unable to make a decision on the conflict that lies before you now. Do you get revenge on destruction by destroying his creation of a false prophet against you? That would go against everything you believe in. To kill a mortal— the greatest sin you could ever commit.

Before you are able to escape the insecurities planted by the offspring of destruction, you are off. Your mortal form so foreign to you that you cannot help but admire it. You truly are the being of life and of creation. The being that must choose the fate of such a pitiful creature.

In the next seven months, you visit this place of idol worship. You learn about the leader Kai Anderson, his followers, his tactics, and his deepest desires and fantasies. You hear his teachings, and your human stomach lurches— what an odd sensation.

"My lost lambs, your salvation is the destruction of this fallen world. If the goddess of life truly cared for us, then wouldn't they save us? I am afraid we have been misled. Fate has given me this position. The position is to lead you all to spiritual peace."

"Death to the goddess!"  

Each word that falls from his honeyed lips is poisoned by the silver tongue destruction gave him.

The sensation of destruction overstimulates your eleven senses. You only wanted to learn about him and contemplate his destiny.

You never expected to end up here with him in the hour when the moon is at its highest. He decided to lead you through the woods near his house. Each step of his cruching leaves that you have made. Each breath he takes is that of air you breathed yourself. Even his body was made by your hands. The dye for his hair was a gift to the mortals to allow them more self-expression.

He abruptly stops, and his piercing honey brown gaze turns towards your features. Your mortal body fills with all of these emotions you have never felt—a flush of anger like always, a sense of dread and pity, and that prickling in your stomach and heart. That uncomfortable sensation that you are unable to wave away. The one you first felt when learning of him.

"Destruction led you to me. It was the God of all that has been that gifted you to me." He speaks in a passive yet passionate manner. His real emotions simmering beneath the surface. The facade of an accepting and noble leader never slipping from his features. Not even for a moment. "You are mine to use as I please."

An unsettling grin appears on his pale features, his dimples showing. "And use you I will, little lamb." He whispers with such whimsy and venom.

One of his broad hands clasps on your shoulder like a lock. You feel powerless against his presence. Your breath stuck in the back of your throat. Your righteous anger rises in the pit of your stomach. "You will have my messiah baby. You will do as your told. After all, people like you are below me. You should always listen to your master. Don't listen, get another man, I'll kill them. I'll kill all of them. I'll kill you if I have to." He plants a forceful kiss on your lips. The rough texture of them making your body shudder. Like that the flame is extinguished. Another light is lit much lower in your body. The intensity greater than any other feeling you have had towards him.

"That's the only thing you women are good for. Making babies and sandwiches." He mutters in such a sweet manner that you were almost fooled into believing his words true. "You'll make my pretty little messiah baby. Your belly will swell and you will officially be mine. Mine all mine."

His lips refuse to disconnect from yours. You don't stop it but you don't comply either. In the first time in all of eternity you want nothing more than to listen to him. Give into his words. If only he truly knew. His most devoted follower is the one he despises the most.

"You will have my messiah baby." His teeth pull at your bottom lip defiantly. His temper has grown short with your lack of words. Normally he would enjoy the fact his most quiet and doting follower is listening to him— but not tonight. He needs your confirmation. He needs to know you are the one. You will have his baby one way or another, but it'd be easier if you just complied. "Come on, doll. Use those pretty little words for me and tell me 'yes'. Say yes for your leader."

[turretistrying]

Caged Bird and Chased Mouse

Part 2.5: The Traveler, Bird, and Eagle

A/N: OKAY I KNOW ITS BEEN A HOT MINUTE, I DONT WRITE AND HAVE BEEN READING FANFICTION AND WENT TO SEE A MUSICAL. Anyways like,,, sends me asks i need some social interactions it doesnt even have to relate to the story, once i get further into this story and have more characters you guys can request headcannon stuff! Also im basing some of the emotion stuff on my personal experience when playing these story quests.

No Warning!

Lumine is exhausted.

She’s currently resting in a room given to her by Dunyarzad, thinking over the last few days. Normally, when helping people like Tighnari, Collei, and Dunyarzad, shes fine thanks to her Creator leading her and showing her with their heavenly warmth. But without it, it has drained her of all energy, unable to give answers that once came easy to her in conversations. Paimon has filled in whenever those moments come up.

While doing Tighnari ‘quest’ (as her adventure guild book tells her, it has unique writing not like how Katheryne has written with an almost robotic font, so Lumine has chosen to assume that it was her lovely Creator), she imagined what it would’ve felt like to have her Creator lead her (her Creator was sure to cry about the poor scientist and his creation, they are such a caring and sensitive deity even for such a non-living, lifeless creature).

During the trip to the City of Sumeru, Lumine has felt a slight tug on her heart- No, her very soul. She is blindly hopeful that shes getting closer to her beloved Creator, the one thing that has been a constant in her long, long trip throughout Tevyat. Perhaps that last mark on her map was a message from her Creator, telling her where to find them, for only their most devote follower.

Lying down in the bed, Lumine has a feeling that something important is going to happen tomorrow, something that will hopefully lead her to that heavenly warmth that she has been depraved up,

Sabzeruz Festival.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Nahida has been working hard.

She’s been doing everything in her power, in her small godly body to make sure the Sages wont take them away. She may not remember who they are but Celestia be damned if she let something so familiar and comforting be torn away from her. They’ve been asleep for weeks, almost 2 months, or 57 days to be precise (Nahida doesn’t normally like to count the days of somethings like her imprisonment but she needs to make sure they don’t somehow die or sleep for too long). She didn’t want to let go the warmth the stranger brought to her, that was so unlike the cold and sterile environment of the sanctuary she saw everyday for the past 500 years.

She’s made it so if they tried to remove the stranger from her prison, something would go wrong and mess with the Akasha so horribly that it would be down for who knows how long, and since all citizens were dependent on the Akasha, the sages weren’t willing to take that risk. Especially when their plan seems so focused on using the Akasha for.. something, something big and dangerous. So the Sages had decided to let the caged bird have her toy, for now.

Nahida cuddled up to the prone body of the stranger, wanting to feel more of the comforting warmth she felt in the dream space. She hoped they would meet again soon in the dreamscape, maybe they would do something nice like sing to her or something…

Nahida let herself sleep, and decided to pass the time until the Sabzeruz Festival came by looking at dreams, hoping that with that the stranger’s subconscious would let her in again.

She wishes she had been more greedy and have them talk more, their voice was nice.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Al Haithem is confused, yet curious.

The Sages ushered him into the Sanctuary of Surasthana, needing him to act as a scribe and record their research for an upcoming plan of theirs.

When he walked in he saw…

It was them. The stranger- no wait, Imposter if he remembered correctly (which he did) - he met months ago, the one who was incredibly suspicious yet intriguing. They gave off a form of aura, that felt… warm. He let them off the hook to see what they’d do at that time, not expecting them to be the infamous Imposter that a few Nations had warned others about. In his opinion, they looked just like the creator, but they didn’t seem malicious by any means. Only scared, as if a tiny mouse being hunted by packs of foxes.

It makes sense though, they’re being hunted by every nation just because they shared the same face. Al Haithem personally thought they were going a bit far, it’s idiotic to punish someone who happened to share a face with the All Mighty Creator.

One of the Sages cough to get his attention.

“Yes?” He replies with pen and scroll in hand, ready to record for them.

“You seemed lost in thought, a dangerous thing for a scribe to be doing, especially with such precious information as this.” One spoke up with an attitude

“Well, I realized I knew who that stranger is in the orb,” Al Haithem points with his pen, where Lesser Lord Kusanali was seemingly cuddling up with the Imposter, “It’s the rumored Imposter, the one who wears the Creator’s face.”

The Sages take a double take, walking towards the center to try and get a good view of the strangers face. It may have been squished slightly against the ‘glass’ but it was, in fact, the same face. The revelation starts a murmur with the Sages, as Al Haithem observes the Imposter,

Feeling a…

Tug in his chest.

______________________________________________________________

Okay okay i know i was gone for awhile, but do you like this filler? Lumine won for which traveler should be the one I use so yeah, shes her now.

oh god so many people to tag

If your name is crossed out it means I could tag you Im sorry :(

Taglist: @no-name-omo @moosieman12345 @tinandabin @esthelily @d0rmiens-fact0rem @lunalily19 @meerpea @justasleepyboi @lunarianillusion @cumbermovels @allblognamesaretakenlikereally @dulleyeddreamer @ello-its-me-ya-boi @jayastronomicnova @apple-ai @campanula-rotundifolia @kokomisimpppp @the-dumber-scaramouche @aintrovertmortal @i-loveyou013

[m1d-45]

hi i have more idea (　･ิω･ิ)

i am writing this at 4am so apologies for the holes but anyway

so i've seen a few fics where the creator grants someone's wish or cures someone's illness or something as proof of their divinity

what if we flipped it around though? it is often expressed in fiction that divine intervention offsets the natural order of the universe. thus, i bring you this:

creator!reader arriving in teyvat first and being recognized and placed on the throne.

however, as much as it pains you to do it, you must strictly abide by one single rule: god must not meddle in the affairs of mortals.

prayers go unheard, pleas unanswered.

one day, a being who bears a striking resemblance to the creator emerges from seemingly out of nowhere, granting wishes left and right.

suddenly farmers are seeing healthier crops, clinics finding themselves empty.

you're skeptical. suspicious. not just anyone is capable of such a feat. just who is this person—no, entity?

the divine call it an abuse of power. mortals call it a miracle.

people begin to question the validity of your identity. why is it that this mysterious being who, unfortunately for you, happens to look exactly like you holds so much power that they've never seen you demonstrate?

naturally, people's faith in you begin to waver.

for all they know, you could be a fake. masquerading as their god to gain their adoration and devotion.

and eventually your very own people begin to turn on you.

- death loop anon

ohhh, that’s interesting!

gods don’t intervene with mortal affairs, after all, and the idea of reader being like “you want them? fine.” and then promptly fucking off to like sumeru to play w the aranara is hilarious.

after all, their creator is a benevolent god, right? they should heal the ill and cure disease, not just sit there, right?

(they would have died anyway, your healing would have just prolonged the inevitable. better to die naturally than be suspended by the divine, less human than you were before.)

and this new ‘god,’ they fit the bill so much better! deeply intertwined with the people of teyvat (can’t you see it’s manipulation?) and (seemingly) emotionally invested, outright hostile towards you for your callousness and aloof nature.

(they’ll find out. they’ll know eventually. those they’ve cured are alive by corruption, taking a poison as a cure.)

but what do you know, right? you’re just the god of all, just the one that created the disease your people suffer from. what do you know of medicine or society, you who have crafted those very concepts by hand? what do you know of empathy or compassion, you who gifted humans with this ability eons ago?

what do you know, you who leaves in exile, you who hardly puts up a fight—and surely never cared at all?

the archons beg you to stay, not to leave them under the jurisdiction of whatever that is that’s wearing your face, but you wave them off with a smile.

“i’ll return,” you promise, hand twitching slightly as yet another of your beloved creations falls to the fraud’s toxins. “they are unsustainable.”

“then why not stop them now? why not prove your point and make your move first, why let the world suffer?”

“isn’t this what they wanted? who am i, to say what they need, hm? i am no dictator. i am not both judge and jury, nor executioner. if the people cry for a slow death, then i will not deny them.”

“please, divine one… you know as well as us that they are misguided. give us time-“

“to do what, barbatos? we have tried to convince the people of the truth. if they turn a blind eye to the long-term in favor of short moments of bliss, then… well, then i suppose that’s a fault in my design.”

“do not blame yourself for their fallacies-“

“i’m not. i’m just a bit disappointed they haven’t put it together yet. humans are bright people, and yet so… is egotistic the word?”

“selfish?”

“no, not selfish… ah, no matter. this will be resolved within a millennium, of this you have my word.”

“…and if it isn’t?”

“then i will intervene myself. you have nothing to fear.”

“my god…”

“all will be well in the end, kusanali. i will not forget this promise. if the imposter isn’t driven out of the people’s accord, then i shall do so myself.”

[bretongirlwrites]

from the worldbuilding prompts - #30 for Julianne?

30. Dubious at-home cures for mild ailments

(or: why shepherd's pie has the cure disease attribute)

‘O damnation,’ said I, ‘o damnable, damnable thing! – I have got a cold.’

I must have got it in the before-times: since damnable and inconvenient the plains of Oblivion had been, I could not recall any daedra sneezing on me; the same however, could not be said of the mages, who’d come in droves from the snow into the Guild-hall. I should sooner have a thousand sneezing mages than a single moment in the Deadlands: but waking up after the latter fact, with one’s throat dryer than in the fires of Oblivion, and one’s nose running fit to flee some dremora, – it is the last straw.

‘I ought not to complain,’ said I looking at Corinne and Martin quite piteously: ‘I shall survive at least.’

‘Oh!’ said Corinne: ‘both you and Martin know a good deal of healing-magics, –’

‘Would it surprise you to learn, my dear Corinne,’ said I, ‘that try as we might, – and it’s our collective headache,’ my head pounding a little with the effort of it, ‘– no mage nor alchemist nor healer has ever managed to cure the common cold?’

Martin, who had been building our fire, looked at me with such astonishment, that I wondered at his ignorance of it: considered that people had surely come to him with the most terrible of diseases and afflictions and ailments, – but never thought, in the grip of such a pathetic malady as this, to go to a priest. Corinne, likewise baffled, could only pity me; and from some deep devoted place in her Blades armour, offer me her handkerchief. 

‘And especially not,’ said I, ‘in the middle of absolute nowhere. – Damn it all. – What do we still have in rations?

‘There used to be,’ I persisted, while Corinne was fetching the bags, ‘a woman of questionable skill in the City, who purporting to be a healer, sold her cure-alls at such remarkable prices, that the Society for Concerned Merchants was overwhelmed by the real alchemists; and the University investigated. – What on this beloved planet is this?’

‘Dried mutton,’ said Corinne, ‘I think.’

‘It turned out,’ I went on, ‘that this woman, unable to afford and maintain the proper equipment, did a sort of rudimentary alchemy in her marmite. In essence she was making soup. The remarkable thing is that, – though it did not cure anything, – her soup actually worked for certain reliefs. A sort of advanced wortcraft. – I presume this is a potato?’

The thing was so grubby, that even after washing it, I still feared to mistake it for a boulder, and lose it. Corinne however, who had got the water up to the boil, encouraged me to do whatever it was I was doing; and Martin, who was too tired to do anything but watch, awaited with a smile, the continuation of the story.

‘She held this against us,’ said I, ‘and the case stood. It’s the City… after all. She was allowed to continue practising, so long as she did not use the word potion. Such a word implies proper alchemy, and you know how it is… it did not much matter anyway. The last I heard of her, she’d gone over to Skyrim. Apparently they are fond of soup over there; and not so much of potions, – o my voice is going, –’

It had not been much of a dawn, – what with my cold; and the fog; and the memory of tribulations past: but when the water was bubbling, and our thoughts were all turned to sustenance, we may stretch our legs a little, and yawning, smile round at each other; no voices necessary. I almost forgot all else, in my memory of the story, the City which lay faint on the horizon: and when my experiment was ready, said only, and with increasing frogs:

‘I admired her. I really did. There’s a sort of expectation on us, to do things properly. Her things did not work as well as ours did: but they worked, they damn well worked. I haven’t often imitated her, until, – called by necessity, –’

Whereupon I, with a flourish and the nearest stick to a spoon I could find, poured out my creation into a bottle that Martin held out. 

‘There you have it,’ said I, ‘a potion, of fortify health, of restore fatigue: a soup-potion! I cannot cure a cold: but it will keep me going until Bruma, –’

‘It’s a shepherd’s pie,’ said Corinne at once voice rising: ‘a liquified shepherd’s pie. – A shepherd’s pie, in a bottle. – You could have made a damn shepherd’s pie.’

I fell silent halfway to drinking it. – Corinne looked at me. – I sheepish, looked away, at Martin. – And he though consternated, – and she though troubled, – and I though in the midst of the most inconvenient cold of my life, – raised a toast of pie-soup: and burst out laughing.

[quietwingsinthesky]

Do you have any Michifer hcs?

lol, i'm never good at remembering my headcanons when i'm not actively throwing them into my fics. let's see.

I think the biggest one I have, or that sort of counts, is that I've spent a lot of time looking at Michael's behavior in s5 and trying to figure out just what's going on in his head. You know, there's that moment during the Dean & Michael confrontation where Michael says outright that he doesn't want to kill Lucifer, that he still loves him, and then follows it up with the fact that he's going to do it anyway. Actually, wait, let me grab the exact words transcript.

MICHAEL: You're wrong. Lucifer defied our father, and he betrayed me. But still, I don't want this any more than you would want to kill Sam. You know, my brother, I practically raised him. I took care of him in a way most people could never understand, and I still love him. But I am going to kill him because it is right and I have to.

And later of course, the infamous (to me, anyway): "Yes, because I am a good son."

And there's a lot to dig in there, but specifically to me what stands out is the bluntness of those last two statements. Because it is right and I have to. Because I am a good son. And to me, resident giver of problems to Michael, those come across not as explanations to Dean, but as justifications to himself. Or, well, that's kind of the same thing, if you take this conversation to be Michael talking at himself through his vessel, Dean's presence more incidental than anything, his eventual consent already a fact of the universe and so Michael doesn't actually need to dedicate any energy to convincing him. So, to me, he's not. He's trying to convince himself. And I think he's been trying to convince himself for a long time.

I think Michael is very good at holding two contradictory statements as equally true. God left but God loves him. Angels who consider disobedience must be punished or destroyed, but Raphael, who is outspoken in their belief that God is dead, is exempt from these rules. Lucifer is his little brother whom he loves and Lucifer is a monster who has to be put down for the good of the universe. No one in Heaven escapes being mindfucked, not even the guy nominally at the very top, because he's been rewiring his brain to be able to kill Lucifer without hesitation since the moment he had to throw him in the Cage (and he still failed to do it. Swan Song script my beloved, Michael hesitates because he wishes things could go back to how they were, because Lucifer is pleading with him as his little brother.)

And I think Michael has to be like this because he is so steadfast in his devotion. He loves Lucifer, and he loves God, and one day, he suddenly has to break himself in two trying to figure out why he can't simply make his feelings for Lucifer disappear because God orders it and wants Lucifer cast out. It's like. There's no healthy way for Michael to have a healthy relationship with his father, because the one mantra he's been repeating since his creation is God is Good and Right and everything he does has to be Good and Right, too. So if God kicks Lucifer out, that's Good and Right, and that makes Michael's emotions, his continuing attachment to Lucifer, Wrong and Bad. So, how to live with that, when he's just been given a clear example of what will happen if he is Wrong and Bad in God's eyes, when he's been the instrument who carried out that punishment? He can't love Lucifer, but he can't not love Lucifer.

So, that's how you end up with two equally true and contradictory statements. "I took care of him in a way most people could never understand, and I still love him." and "You're a monster, Lucifer. And I have to kill you."

Sorry for the rambling. I think in circles trying to figure out how Michael works out that what he's doing is the right thing. Doubtless, some of it is influenced by my own experience with religion and. well. being a queer little kid in church, knowing one thing to be true through experience and being told another thing is true and having to hold them both at the same time and it Fucking Hurting. And I kind of wish Michael got a chance to let go of the way his love is being restricted, turned into a fault that he has to suppress and eventually, literally kill.

(queercodes your archangel queercodes your archangel queercodes your-)

ah fuck that was a lot of rambling and most of it just about michael generally and not michifer. uh. okay. bonus round.

I like to imagine that early early stages of Heaven, like pre even Gabriel & Raphael existing, Lucifer and Michael shared a resting place together, not even considering that having separate spaces was an option. And then once Gabriel & Raphael, and later even more angels, did exist, and these spaces were more formally cut off from each other (in the way that human Heavens would later be as well, the cracks of Heaven's design showing early, the image of harmony while the inhabitants are being isolated), Lucifer just ignored that and kept spending his time in what was now supposed to be Michael's space alone. Michael, of course, lets him because otherwise it'd feel too empty.

And after Lucifer is cast out, Michael doesn't really rest anywhere anymore.

[gothicastles]

I was tagged by the incredible @jedibongrip for a lockscreen challenge thing and uuuuuh this is SO EMBARRASING SKDSNBDSBDN

anyway,,, my lockscreen for months now has been the spectacular and brilliant and beautiful Pillars of Creation photographed by the James Webb telescope my beloved <3 When the pictures came out earlier this year I literally shape-shifted and roamed the forest for weeks while howling at the moon and catching small prey and tbh I still freak out every time I see them on my screen. They remind me of how small and truly insignificant we are when compared to the unfathomable vastness and indiference of space and that's exactly what I need to think about every morning as I'm forced to get up and participate in very unsexy activities (go to class).

(Some nerdy space facts as a devoted space nerd: these pillars are dust and gas giants that measure about 5 light-years long (insane!) and they are the birthplace of an infinite amount of new stars (I like to imagine the galaxy far, far away exists somewhere in there).

and oh, my homescreen is just some random painting I found on Pinterest (I'm sorry I don't know the author 🥺) of two ladies that gave me major lesbian Greek goddesses vibes and I'm here for that.

this was fun! I tag @dininginspace @loveoaths and @sensoryseekinganakin i wanna see 👀👀👀👀

[contentwithmediocrity]

Beginning Anew

After nearly a decade of using my main Tumblr blog, I have decided to build anew! A terrifying prospect. I always felt guilty for posting anything related to my creative endeavors on my main blog, so I decided to make one solely devoted to my random endeavors. 

I have a passing interest in relaxing pastimes like painting and embroidery. For me, it's not about the end product but the process itself. Even though my interest in these endeavors fades after about a month, I still enjoy them. I find it fascinating to watch YouTube videos where far more experienced individuals make beautiful stuff, and it inspires me to keep trying. 

Right now, I'm diving into bot creation. Who knows how long I'll be immersed in this? It's all part of the adventure, and I'm excited to see where it leads!

I also write, mostly collaboratively, on online forums. It's my longest hobby to date and my most beloved means of self-expression and stress relief.

Anyway, I hope this gives you (if you find this post) a general idea of what might appear on this blog. 

[nerdyporcelain]

Oh my fucking god my dnd character is a kid made by the Wish spell.

Licricia's mothers searched the continent for a magician powerful enough to grant them their biggest wish - a child, someone made of love and for love. When they finally found the mam capable enough, they've collected every penny he required and when the time finally came - on the seventh of the fifth month - made their wish. A child created from their idea of perfection, a daughter made of starlight and ancient magic.

But true happiness cannot be bought by means as simple as money, no. See, the magician was a man of faith, not in the Dawn, but the Old Gods - entities killed, banished from Naru Anor by the new gods. And so, he granted them their daughter, but in exchange for life of devotion. Her mothers were to dedicate their lifes to worship of the Old Gods, and when their daughter comes of age, she was to follow in their footsteps. Made for a mortal home and the divine call. Charlotta decided to bear her child's power until the day comes, and so the wish was made.

Licricia's creation brought magical abilities upon Lotta - marks bestowing her to the goddess Tuile, the one once responsible for balance in nature and well being of all flora and fauna. It also brought them great surprise when the kid turned out to be purple - a drow, like Dalia's high-elven heritage got a bit mixed up in the making. From the moment they laid eyes on her, they couldn't look away. She was perfect in every way and they knew they would do everything to give her the life she deserves.

But the fate dealt them different cards. For a couple years life's been perfect - a little bakery, a beautiful garden and a slow, peaceful life filled with happiness and love. Until Dalia got sick. They decided to go search for a cure and entrusted their beloved daughter to someone they shouldn't have - auntie Brunhilda. Licricia's memories were altered for safety (you can't have a six year old telling stories about their mothers worshipping the old pantheon) and after one last day together, auntie took little Licricia and her mothers went on their way, never to reunite again.

Brunhilda wiped her memories entirely and gave her away to an orphanage in hopes of "fixing" her mothers' blasphemous mistake and reinventing Licricia into a child of faith for the Dawn. She took away her life, her family, love, her home and garden, almost everything she had - but she never could force Licricia into something she was not.

She would walk the earth drawn to life and death, to the perfect harmony of it all, to the dysfunctional changes in the world around her. She'd turn heads wherever she went, almost like people could sense the magic she was woven from. She'd see the injustice brought to the world by the church and the despair in people, the will to fight in some of them, and she'd recognize it as familiar, right. One might even say that without being exposed to all the world's horror first hand, she wouldn't hate the church nearly as much as she does.

Decades later Licricia would find her way back to a childhood keepsake - the last thing her moms gifted her - a small box with painted stars, where she would find her story and all the answers to the questions she didn't know she had. That's where she would find her way back to the lost love, and where the burning need of revenge would be born. Despite everything that's happened to her, she would recognize it all to be, simply, a part of her - the love, the loss, all of her story, the will to fight and to believe. It has always been a part of her, all of her.

Because she is a daughter of the Old Gods, a daughter of love. She never had a chance to chose her own path, but she knows that if she did, she wouldn't stray from it anyway. Because in all those years of her life she wasn't aware what she was made to be, yet, she still became it, willingly and with conviction in her heart. Licricia is a child made of magic. There is no world where she'd reject that.

[random-stuff999]

(Hope you don't mind me adding my two cents again)

The personality of the black king... Seeing how the knights of ephemeris had their own personality and agency, to the point that they could choose to join the enemy that killed their king, I think he must have been formidable to gain Igris' loyalty to that extent. Like, I know Igris' personality (read: him being the quintessential knight) is a big part of why he stayed so long guarding the empty throne room, but I like to imagine that the black king was honourable and worthy enough of that level of devotion.

So I imagine him being a good leader and king, respected and beloved by all his subjects. One who is more interested in his projects than in the paperwork that a kingdom must generate lol, though what he needed to do he did it efficiently (maybe he mastered kingship/leadership too, like the rest of the fields.).

I can see him treating his knights warmly, teaching them whatever they wanted/needed to know, treating them as their own beings, respecting their decisions and agency.

But for some reason, the vibes I get is of him being more fascinated with his creations than paternal. Because he's a crafter. A creator. Driven by curiosity, which imo was why he learnt everything he could get his hands on.

(Or maybe he was searching for something. Or maybe it's both: he was searching for something, and learning things at the same time in a 'maybe I didn't manage my objective but knowledge gained is time well spent' kind of way. Who knows.)

Maybe he created the knights as a 'let's see if I can do it' sort of project. So yeah, I don't get the vibe that he saw them as his children (not saying he saw them as machines, seeing that he even gave them names, but they were his, idk how to put it. Beloved creations? Successful attempt to create artificial life?).

I bet he would see the other knights' betrayal as something fascinating as in 'oh, so you could do that too!'. Like, that's proof right there he managed to create true artificial living beings, with their own will and all (bc I imagine them being unique in that sense). Maybe he'd be a little sad, or maybe he'd be elated they had free will to that point.

I can't give you an answer to why I don't see him as paternal, it's just a vibe, though Igris did say the black king was master, king, leader, teacher and father (or something like that) all rolled in one, so maybe that's where the vibes come from.

Anyway, that's my opinion. I'm looking forward to discovering how he was!

For those of you who read come all ye mighty, a question. What do you imagine the Black King looks like (given that I've very carefully never yet mentioned a description)? I'm honestly just curious what you guys have been imagining

[spaceandfiction]

How Old is Castiel?

The angel of Thursday is old. Like old old. But fanworks often disagree as to exactly how old 'old' really is. This is understandable, as the show itself is very nebulous about what was going on in pre-biblical times and added more information about the past, some contradictory to pre-existing information, up until its final few episodes. Our friend Cas could be thousands or hundreds of thousands of years old, perhaps even millions or billions. Allow me to answer the question 'how old is Castiel' in the rambling post to follow, which is pointless but ultimately amusing to myself and potentially to others

In the beloved episode "The Man Who Would Be King," Cas describes a variety of memories he's had over his long life, including the line

"I remember being at a shoreline, watching a little grey fish heave itself up on the beach and an older brother saying,

[GIF: don't step on that fish Castiel, big plans for that fish.]

This means that in the universe of Supernatural, evolution took place. Somehow, though, the biblical Garden of Eden and its inhabitants were also real. And not just as the first chosen people of God, or some other cop-out. Season 15 makes it clear Adam is considered the first man, period. Cain, of hair fame, even appears on the show to tell us Cas is Dean's Colette

[GIF: Cain says "then you kill the angel, Castiel. Now that one- that I suspect would hurt something awful"]

That has nothing to do with Castiel's age I just think it's fun. Anyway, if we're going to try to synthesize these two things I think we have to look back to Genesis. Obviously, biblical literalism will get us nowhere close to answering this question. I'm not a religious scholar so things are about to get a bit hazy, but I used an online version of the bible to refresh my memory of chapter one of Genesis. I think if we're going to try and use biblical sources to help us here let's all agree that a "day" in the biblical sense is a period of time stretching for however long that evolutionary process might have taken. God created these things, but he used the regular scientific properties to help them unfold in a direction he enjoyed.

Now the current opinion on when the first fish moved onto land suggests it happened something like 385 million years ago.

BUT WAIT! This is just something Cas remembers, that doesn't mean that's when he was created. We know that Castiel is

[GIF: Chuck calls my beautiful boy Cas "the self-hating angel of Thursday"]

I think this means Cas was the first Angel created on Thursday AKA the fifth day in Genesis. This is the first leap I'm really going to make here, because we don't know this for sure, but I think it would make sense. Not all angels are the same age. We know the archangels, for example, were created before any other angels. I think it would make sense for Chuck to have created different angels with different functions at different times, and a hierarchy established as the archangels incorporated these new siblings into heaven's dynamic. This would make Castiel a relatively 'young' angel, born on the fifth of six possible days of creation. That makes sense in the context of his role: stationed to watch over Earth as a soldier. He became a commander after Anna fell, sure, but he's still relatively excluded from knowledge of Heaven's plans.

We also do not see Cas perform any particular action for Thursday that would explain why it is his domain. The Doylist explanation is that Kripke just picked the angel of the day his show was airing, but that's no fun. I think it would make sense if Cas was created with the dawn of the fifth day and as such, it became his title in heaven.

The fifth day in Genesis is devoted to the creation of swimming water creatures and birds. Birds being significantly younger than fish, evolutionarily speaking, they don't push back Cas' age whatsoever. Fish in general, though, clearly predate their evolution to walk. To get this date, it really depends on what you let count as the 'beginning' of sea life. The first splitting cells in the deep-sea vents? The first fish? Obviously, those writing about these events had no idea what cells were. They also had no idea that a gay angel would one day be a featured character on something called a television show and keep me up at 1 AM over a year after said television show had stopped airing wondering how old he is, and yet here I am

If you were to count any and all living cells in the sea, Cas would sit at a spritely 3.7 billion years of age. If we're starting at not very fishy but still living sea sponges, the figure goes down to about 800 million years old. But I think this seems a bit much. I want Cas to be the fresh-faced cool kid on the heavenly block. To accommodate this desire, I'm willing to say Chuck didn't start counting day five until the first little something one might consider a fish came around which would make Castiel's true (approximate) age 540 million years old.

Do with this information what you will. I have no idea why I provided it. Thank you, Castiel, for being the impetus into scientific exploration

[somensfw-blue]

Ok I sent the last ask accidentally bc I dropped my phone aaaa I'm sorry

anyway as I was saying, since I am about to go to bed, it's time for:

🌻Anon's Horny Snacks

Phantombur, being all shy beneath you as you dom him, for once not going transparent immidietly and mumbles a lot about how nice he feels. when you acknowledge it, he goes a bit transparent and covers his mouth. you laugh and grind on his hips, to which he replies: "gods, y-youre gonna drive me insane" under his breath.

Revivedbur, my beloved. we've revisited your and his first time after the revival so many times, so this time: its late. he cannot sleep for the life of him and he hears you whimper. at first he worries, thinking you're having night terrors, but then he hears you moan. now, the man is fully awake so he knows he heard what he thought he did, and so he gets on top of them gently and gets them worked up in their sleep until he either can't take it and fucks you or until you wake up and return the favor.

Godbur, visiting you at the alter. you've encountered him before but you never expected him to propose giving you the privilege to be fucked by him- by your deity. "you've been such a lawful and devoted one haven't you, well I have a reward to propose to you that will not be able to say no to"

and last but not least for tonight; Revisiting one of my favorites again, ARGbur (with a swap between R.Fakier and I.Fakier)

He was working. he seems to almost always be working these days, so when you came to bring him his lunch, Will (R.Fakier/with glasses) kissed your cheek and asked you to sit with him. at first you thought nothing of it, since he is your boyfriend, but the more you sat with him the more you realized he's trying to hint that he's horny. So, you lean to kiss him to leave but whisper softly in his ear that if he's that needy, a break will only help. he pauses after you do and while you get up, before taking off his glasses (I.Fakier/no glasses) and pinning you to the wall, where he ended up fucking you in a pretty raw and maybe a bit feral manner

that's all the horny thoughts I had for tonight (and here are regular snacks: 🍟🥨🥓🍿)

Have a great morning/night/afternoon, depending on your timezone

~🌻Anon

oh my god i didn't see this in my asks why did tumblr hide this from meeeee rude rude rude

god i forgot how much i love subby phantombur. he's so cute and would be so pretty blushing and whining and semitransparent

and somno with revivebur? (or like... slight cnc??) delicious. completely and utterly

godbur is probably my favourite creation of this blog purely because i'm a subby little whore who will happily let that man use me to stroke his ego. just,,, on your knees praying to your god, cleaning his alter and being a loyal follower (maybe even a priest/priestess of the alter hmm hmm?) and he visits you with a gentle stroke of your chin and a praise for being so good for him, and now he will happily reward your devotedness

with his glasses on his kisses are soft, gentle pecks on the cheek. with glasses off your legs go numb from his hands and his kisses are rougher, biting and sucking at the skinnnnnn

[jdrizzle15]

Her Second Return

Just like all of you, and especially my fellow Penny fans, I am absolutely devastated by the Volume 8 finale. I had been in quite a state these last few days, utterly heartbroken, and actually nauseous at times. It feels strange to me to be legitimately grieving a fictional character, but it’s not a bad thing to feel this way. To me, this just shows that CRWBY loves her just as much as us to have written her so well that we connect so completely with her, that it feels like we lost an actual piece of ourselves when she’s gone.

But as you can probably tell by the title, this mega post isn’t gonna be about accepting this end, not in the slightest! Today I want to share canon evidence that can point towards another return of our beloved quirky red headed cinnamon bun! I’m here to spread this hope that I and others in the Nuts & Dolts dolts Discord server have!

I have this separated into many different sections to keep these thoughts organized. With that said, here goes…

A Father’s Words:

In Episode 7 of Volume 7, ‘Worst Case Scenario’ we learn the origins of Penny’s aura, and thus her soul. We also learn that it takes more aura each time she’s brought back. This leaves open an option that could be used at a later point.

Many people theorized that Pietro could indeed revive Penny one more time, which he would absolutely do. But there also lies the possibility that someone else could donate some of theirs, I’m not sure about this as I feel like it’s akin to blood donation where compatibility matters or there's a high risk of altering her, but the possibility is definitely there.

Now, the conversation in Chapter 5 of Volume 8, ‘Amity’ that Pietro and Penny have is an important moment for both Father and Daughter. It was there to show how her death in PvP all that time ago really did have a heavy impact on him and is still affecting him to this day.

Instead of continuing to pretend that everything is A-okay, like he had done for most of Volume 7, he finally lets his true feelings about how it come out to Penny for what is quite likely the first time. Even going so far as to say "Are you asking me to go through that again?" when she offers to take the risk of trying to lift Amity with her power. He wants Penny to be able to live her life.

This entire scene with Pietro established “this is what will likely happen” even if circumstances are much different now, it doesn’t negate the fact that this is a key part of Penny’s story. Scenes like these have a purpose beyond simply making an eventual death all the more heart wrenching. Her never actually getting to live her life makes those scenes basically moot. It makes them effectively pointless from narrative point of view. Unless there's more to it.

Building Relationship:

The build up between Ruby and Penny the last two volumes has been absolutely phenomenal with a definite destination in mind, and this doesn’t feel like that destination. So much of the arc of this season was to help Penny. This girl that our main protagonist absolutely adores and treasures, it would just be awful to throw all of that out for what amounts to an avoidable end. Why use so much of their precious and very limited runtime on deliberately building up this relationship only to end it abruptly, and permanently, when they’re separated?

In my opinion, RT is definitely smarter now than to intentionally set up what was really looking like a budding gay relationship only to kill one of them for good. If N&D wasn't actually going in a romantic direction, why would they leave in all of the romance-adjacent stuff that they got, that's not how ‘just friends’ act. And that is not something you use such valuable time building up for absolutely no pay off whatsoever...

Representation of Hope:

At its core, RWBY has always been about hope. It’s not at the forefront the whole time, but there's been an underlying theme of hopefulness that has persisted since it began. Some describe the show as a Hopepunk, I personally find this to describe RWBY really well. This genre of storytelling is about caring for things deeply and the courage and strength it takes to do so. It’s about never submitting or accepting the way things are. Fighting for what you believe in and standing up for others. RWBY fits all of this extremely well. How does this relate to Penny? She has been shown to be a sign of hope for everyone, but especially for Ruby, the main main protagonist. A prerequisite for a Hopepunk story is the hope.

Her first death in V3 was something that fundamentally changed Ruby. For the first time in the series, we see our main character all but broken by this event. With the loss of Penny, immediately afterwards, Ruby’s hope followed. She made up for it through determination and force of will. We see it affect her multiple times throughout the journey to Volume 7. But upon her return in V7, Hope reached a high point for everyone, the sheer relief on Ruby’s face is plain to see!

In V8 chapter 5 ‘Amity’, Penny literally raises hope by lifting the arena into the sky so Ruby could spread her message. And when she falls, and Amity with her, the connection is lost and hope plummets again. From there things take a very negative turn with the hack begins to take Penny’s agency.

In chapter 11 ’Risk’ is the point in the arc where everyone is reunited for the moment, so two separate hero stories are no longer a thing at that point in time. For the time being focus seemed to be shifted to care about the characters and how they’re going to solve the current problems. This is also where Ruby reaches her lowest emotional point in the season.

It’s not huge, but it’s interesting how connected this is. Before Ruby and Yang share a good cry over learning the possible fate of Summer, Yang brings up restoring optimism and hope to Ruby after the younger sister storms out of the room in frustration. This is where Penny’s scenes take up the rest of the episode. Getting Penny back in control of her own body and safe again is what makes the ending of the episode much brighter, when just 5 minutes before Ruby had been distraught and scared. This then spills over into the group coming up with the plan to use the staff, putting the main group in a much better mood. Of all the things to go right, it’s interesting that it’s Penny.

Things go wrong with the plan in the end and Penny dies. I find it interesting that once again, Penny got them hopeful in their chances of doing something right. Given said plan succeeded but at the cost of Penny of all people, Penny is shown to be the beginning and end of hope for them

The highest and lowest points for hope seem to directly correlate to when Penny’s around. When she comes back again, hope will return too, just like it had before. And because she’ll likely be back for good this time, the second return will probably be close to when Ruby is nearing the complete abandonment of hope. This would be pretty par for the course of the show honestly.

A little aside, but in a sense, Penny also represents Unity. The CCT in Vale fell after her first death, knocking out global communications and the unifying connection it gave. When it was restored for the briefest moment, she was there. Her body connected so she could allow for its launch, her soul lighting the night to hold up Amity with every ounce of her strength. So of course when the Hack succeeds and she falls, she takes global comms down again with her. At a smaller scale - even at the Hack's second last attempt to control her, she draws everyone in the Schnee Manor together. At the start of the volume, Yang states the one thing that they all agree on is not surrendering Penny.

Unity seems appropriate for one whose first song and wish was for but one friend, who would go on to find so many more in the process, and permit for a moment the possibility of all Remnant becoming friends once more. Where she first died, the name of the episode devoted to her story - Amity, "friendship", from the Latin root amicus, "friend" - she almost lives and dies with the very possibility of a united Remnant. It's no wonder she's a priority target for Salem, the great divider, and it seems natural that her next restoration may very well allow the next bid to bring the world together.

The Void Screams:

Moments after Penny's death, we hear a weird scream in the void space. It was a guttural, pained, angry scream, almost like the void space itself was crying out. All the portals shuddered and flickered when it happened.

Some think that this scream was Salem returning, but that happens earlier than Penny’s death, her return is signaled with cinder's arm acting up. We know this because after the arm finished flailing uncontrollably, Cinder said triumphantly "she's back." If it were Salem screaming, it would have happened after she fixed herself, but it didn't.

And I doubt Cinder would have been surprised or unsettled by it considering she was happy Salem returned not long before it. And why would a Salem scream affect the portals anyway, she has no connection to the staff or it's magic.

Another thing to consider is the fact sound is not transmitted through the portals. Otherwise, they would've heard Oscar and the rest calling for them, or the screams of the citizens of Mantle and Atlas. This lowers the possibility of that scream being from Salem even further.

The sound really seems to be coming from something else entirely within the void, and that something is not at all happy. There’s also the fact that Penny was the only person who died in the void space, everyone else was just thrown out of it like Ruby and Co. The only logical cause to me is Penny. Her body was a product (or byproduct) of the same creation magic that made the void space, her blood seems to have been a trigger.

Now I can't be sure about it, but this makes me feel like Penny is almost a part of creation itself? For whatever this thing is to be so angry, that is the only explanation I can think of currently. But all of this could possibly relate to the Narnia allusion of 'the willing victim killed in a traitor's stead' that others have brought up, which will be covered next.

Narnia Parallels:

Atlas has several parallels and references to fictional places (putting aside real world ones like the United States). One of those is that of Narnia, both on the surface and on a deeper level. It is a land of winter year round, where people struggle to survive and there is a present divide between those loyal to the current Monarch and those who are not. James is a parallel to Jadis, the White Witch, a ruler whose thoughts and cares aren’t exactly centered around the actual well being of the people. The hologram table in Ironwood’s office is designed to look like stone, like the Stone Table which features prominently in the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. He has a handpicked cadre of special agents/secret police, like how Maugrim and his wolves served Jadis. Another key parallel is how Jadis’s winter sets in to oppress and kill everyone in Narnia, but the Witch provides aid and protection to her loyal followers. She has all the power to spare harm to others, and uses it only for the loyal. As soon as Mantle splits from James and Atlas, no care is taken to protect them from the cold of Solitas even though he has every ability to turn the heating grid back on. His protection is only for the loyal.

Now that the parallel is established, let's look into the details. Starting with how James plays the role of Jadis.

"I had forgotten that you are only a common boy. How should you understand reasons of State? You must learn, child, that what would be wrong for you or for any of the common people is not wrong in a great Queen such as I. The weight of the world is on our shoulders. We must be freed from all rules. Ours is a high and lonely destiny." These are the words Jadis says in the Magician’s Nephew to justify the blood civil war she and her sister had waged for rulership of Charn, before she came to Narnia. She won that war, technically, but only after the last battle had been lost and her sister had marched right up to her so that they were face to face. Jadis’s troops were dead, her followers had surrendered, and the capital was under full control of her sister. But, she still had one card, one ultimate play to win and prove the throne of Charn was rightfully her. The Deplorable Word, a piece of old magic that killed everyone and everything except for her on Charn. It was monstrous, senseless, cruel beyond measure. But it got her that hollow victory. This mindset, the disregard for the people except as tools for her own will, the ultimate ‘aoe’ destructive move that no one had even considered her using, the unwillingness to stop even when by all practical measures the war is over, is a shocking parallel to James. In many ways, he is Jadis in mindset and deed.

Then there is the shared desire for A Thing that both James and Jadis have. For James it’s the Winter Maiden and control over her. For Jadis it’s the Silver Apples from the Tree of Youth. And funnily enough, the Maiden Powers parallel the Apples quiet well. These apples grant power and a life of eternal beauty, but should not be taken or eaten on one’s own initiative. They must be given, a gift granted by another, or only suffering will come from obtaining them. "For the fruit always works — it must work — but it does not work happily for any who pluck it at their own will. If any Narnian, unbidden, had stolen an apple and planted it here to protect Narnia, it would have protected Narnia. But it would have done so by making Narnia into another strong and cruel empire like Charn, not the kindly land I mean it to be.” Jadis’s immortality, and some of her power, come from the fact that she ate an Apple of her own will after stealing her way into the garden where the Tree of Youth had been planted. She gained the eternal life she had wanted and the power along with it, but she did so by taking it and was cursed because of it. Her skin turned pale and her lips blackened as if she were a frozen corpse given life. She will be trapped in a life of misery and hate according to Aslan- oh hey Cinder, how’s having stolen the Power you always wanted working out for you? Cinder had the power she wanted, but she only got hungrier, eager to claim more and increase her might. But in her pursuit she was defeated and humiliated by Raven, had to steal her way out of Mistral, and then suffered defeat after defeat while in Atlas. Only in the end, when she didn’t keep pursuing the Maiden Power, did she get any kind of victory.

The reason these parallels to Narnia are so important is one of the most famous events of the series. The cracking of the Stone Table and the rebirth of Aslan after his death. ‘When a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor's stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backward.’ Well, the ‘Stone Table’ in James’s office has cracked, and Penny strikes me as a pretty willing victim. She has never actually committed any actual treachery or harm, as she was the Protector of Mantle, and fought for its and Atlas’s people until the very end. And because of her death, the actual traitor, Winter, who loyally served James until he had gone too far, was saved. Through Penny’s self sacrifice, Winter was saved. So now Death itself will start working backward.

(Major props to my friend @catontheweb for writing this section, I was getting nowhere with it, if they weren't there this part wouldn't exist!)

Norse Mythology:

The tree we see in the post credit scene gives off some serious Yggdrasil vibes. Also called the World Tree, it is essentially all of creation in Norse Mythology. It connects all nine realms, including the God realms of Asgard, the human realm of Midgard, and the underworld of Hel.

Humans are born from the branches of Yggdrasil. The web of Wyrd is woven for every person once they're born, and their path is set from there regardless of how many times the souls cycle over. But at the end, they're destined to end up in one of the worlds, for a myriad of reasons.

I believe Penny landed closest to this giant tree. She was on the center platform in the void space, so if that space is directly above the island(?) the tree is on, it makes sense for her to fall by the center nearest to the tree. This would not only open up all kinds of possibilities for the volume in general, but it would also create options for Penny.

The whole of Yggdrasil’s representations fit well into Penny’s story. Birth, growth, death and rebirth. We can count Penny’s appearance in V7 as birth for now, her growth is all her development in leaving =the military and becoming a Maiden, her death just happened, and her rebirth would be her revival. And this is a cycle she’s gone through before.

The Norse god Odin and Yggdrasil have quite a connection. In one story, Odin cut out one of his own eyes to gain knowledge from a pool underneath Yggdrasil. The only one that fell whose eyes alone are incredibly significant to the story was Ruby. So, they could choose to have her allude to Odin by having Ruby make some kind of deal with whatever entity likely rules over this magical place. An eye for Penny’s life.

There’s another story about Odin, Yggdrasil and the pursuit of knowledge. Odin so loved knowledge, that he sacrificed himself in a quest to learn the deeper magic of runes. It was believed one could only learn the magic spells from runes in death. So, Odin hung himself on Yggdrasil for nine days as an offering, and teetered between life and death. After he mastered the last spell on the ninth night, he ritually died and all light was extinguished from the world. Odin’s death lasted until midnight, when he was reborn and light returned to the world.

This story doesn’t fit Penny perfectly, but allusions often don’t. So If she really did land near the tree, she could be another loose representation of Odin’s story here. What she did wasn’t for knowledge, but to save her friends and keep Cinder from getting the Winter Maiden power. She believed it necessary that she sacrifice herself to achieve this end. As we established, Penny represents Hope, so her death means the loss of hope. This parallels Odin’s story of his death meaning the loss of light itself. So if this theory holds up, it would make this death temporary, until her rebirth and the return of Hope with her once again.

Alternatively, Ruby has the potential of loosely representing Odin in this story as well. Odin later uses the knowledge of the runes to do many things, but the most relevant one right now is awakening the dead. Both of these stories are about making a personal sacrifice to gain something that is desired. Ruby would absolutely make such sacrifices if it meant saving Penny.

It is said that Odin lived “according to his highest will unconditionally, accepting whatever hardships arise from that pursuit, and allowing nothing, not even death, to stand between him and the attainment of his goals." This sounds like Penny's arc of accepting the WM powers. This is more just a general connection between Penny and Odin, but I found it interesting.

Side Note: I encourage anyone who’s interested to look into RWBY connections to Norse Myth, there’s a surprising amount of things that feel eerily similar to the show. Likely just coincidental, but it’s fun to think about!

(If I got any of this wrong, I sincerely apologize by the way. I researched as best I could, but I admit it could have been lacking.)

Ambrosius and the Staff:

Ruby told Ambrosius "we kinda wanna keep her around longer than that" as part of her very specific instructions. Then Penny died about ten to fifteen minutes, at the absolute most thirty minutes later in-universe. I don’t know about you, but to me that seems very short to be considered ‘longer than that’. Technically it is, but when writing a story and a character says something like that, you typically don’t just kill the character they were referring to basically right away. It makes sense for a week-by-week watch, but in a volume binge, which many viewers do, it becomes ironic how fast Penny dies after being removed from her robotic body.

The first time we see the staff of creation being used, it's to save Penny. Using the staff of creation to help Penny is a sign of how incredibly important she is.

They’ve even got this entire transformation sequence for her, so it wouldn’t make sense for them to throw all that away two episodes later. In a meta context, it’s a massive waste of time and budget considering the asset creation for Penny.

Penny is a character who has already hopped bodies two times. And now we're supposed to just believe that this time it really is a final death? Just two episodes after we were explicitly told her body isn't what matters, that "Her soul is who she is" and that "the mechanical parts are just extra"? From a writing perspective, it feels strange, like your breaking a promise right after making it. And frankly, CRWBY is better than that, which makes me think this is not the actual end for her.

A possible connection between Penny, Ruby, and the Staff (thus Creation) can be seen in the intro. As Ruby is falling and being dragged down into the darkness, she is shown reaching for the staff. In the void space, Penny is the one with the relic. So with Penny having this strong connection to Creation, and the lyrics “fight for every life” playing as Ruby reaches for the staff, it’s a safe assumption to make, with the knowledge we now have, that the Staff of Creation represents Penny in this particular moment. Which could mean that V9 will be about, at least partially, fighting for Penny’s life.

Musical Hints:

In terms of music, Friend, as a song for Penny, is very dissonant from the episode itself. The song is oddly cheerful for Penny’s recent untimely death, and it overall highlights the wrong parts of death. It’s simply too happy to be a song about losing one of the most, if not the most joyous characters in the entire show. The song also abruptly ends. There’s no outro, and while this could symbolize the fact that Penny died young, it could be that the song itself is unfinished in a story sense.

What do we hear just before the song finishes, though? A progression of notes that sounds eerily similar to the last line of the opening of Volume 8. The notes for “Fight for ev’ry life” and “Who fin’lly felt alive'' share a similar melodic structure, they aren’t perfect clones of each other, but they are incredibly similar, to the point where it seems intentional. Penny may very well be the life that the opening song is fighting for. It is also worth noting that the line “Fight for every life” comes just after “Sometimes it’s worth it all to risk the fall,” which is the exact wording used for the description in the Volume 8 finale. Team RWBY risked the fall, yet, strangely the opposite of fighting for every life happened with Penny’s sacrifice. Perhaps the time to fight for every life has yet to happen, and we will see it come Volume 9.

For another thing, the lyrics for Friend are entirely centered on Penny’s feelings for Ruby, to the point where they read very much like a bittersweet love song. The music itself is incredibly cheerful, as mentioned previously, creating a mood whiplash with the end of the volume. Why would we hear a song about Penny’s feelings for Ruby, sounding like a love song, if her death is supposed to be a tragic sacrifice akin to Pyrrha’s? The song may very well be giving a clue into its future use in the show proper.

If this was meant to be a good bye song, why make it so cheerful and romantic sounding? There's only one part about her dying and even then, it's just too accepting and goes right back into cheerfulness. The song is also pretty hopeful, telling Penny's story in a fairly chronological order. And the part where she talks about sacrifice is quite pointedly followed up by one about feeling alive. It also ends with the super cheerful chorus, the word "alive" being the last... (Remember the episode title: The Final Word)

(I want to thank my friend @shadow-0f-x for writing the majority of this section! I was struggling to choose how to tackle it as I am not well versed in music theory.)

What We Didn’t See:

It is likely that Penny understood Jaune's semblance better than him and figured something out about it’s abilities in the same way that she understood Ruby's semblance better than her. She had plenty of time to observe his semblance up close as he boosted her aura to stave off the virus. Because of that intentionally timed cutaway in the finale, we don’t get to hear her explain herself after her strained “Trust me.” All of that seems really suspicious to me.

Pyrrha Parallel:

Pyrrha and Penny both sacrificed themselves to stop or stall Cinder. Jaune tried to convince the both of them to stop. With Pyrrha, he failed, while with Penny he actively helped her sacrifice herself. Doesn’t make sense for the guy who was determined not to let anyone else do what Pyrrha did, unless of course Penny assured him she’d be alright.

The Moment:

RT including the suicide hotline in the description shows that they're aware that Penny basically committed assisted suicide, seeing it as a noble sacrifice worth doing to save her friends. They're aware, and I believe they're smart enough to condemn that decision to hell and back.

The best way to do that in my opinion is to pull her back into the land of the living and let her witness first hand the consequences of throwing her life away so freely. This would show Penny how her actions affected others so maybe she could learn to truly value herself. To not think herself expendable. It would be bold and unwise to portray this choice as something good, unless it was going to be called upon later and be pointed out for how horrible it really is.

On top of this, Penny was way too content with her death, happy even. There's no way team RWBY is letting her stay content with it. It’s almost as though we're supposed to join Ruby and Co. in calling bullshit on what Penny is saying and doing because no, Penny, this is not how things are meant to work. It's as if Penny was basically saying "I want to die for my friends" because most of the volume had been about everyone else making sure she didn't die. She knows it will hurt them. She knows.

At the peak of it all, a choice like this will totally destroy Ruby. It may very well be her breaking point for Volume 9. Curiously, the moment itself is written like it’s the first choice Penny’s ever made, yet the entire Volume shows this isn’t the case. However, this is the first choice that Penny’s made solely independently and it’s rather pertinent that the choice she makes is a mistake. Outside of giving Winter the Maiden gift and saving the day temporarily, this sacrifice will not have any lasting positive effects. Jaune will be saddled with the grief of killing Penny. Ruby will have to live with losing her best friend and not being able to protect her a second time, and Winter now has the burden of the Winter Maiden abilities, making her a target of Cinder. This is a bad thing, and Penny needs to see the long term consequences.

Transfer of Power:

As we all know, colors in RWBY are really important and get a lot of focus in the show. That means the yellow we see as Penny gives Winter the Maiden Powers was intentional and likely important, no matter how insignificant it may seem. It’s possible that the transfer effect being yellow could have something to do with Jaune’s semblance. When Fria gave the power to Penny, the effect was very much blue, so this transfer should have been green since she was the one giving it this time. The weirdness of this transfer and the focus on color in RWBY really makes it look like something’s up with how that went down.

A little off topic, but Penny saying "I won't be gone, I'll be part of you." makes me think... Winter is smart, so when she gets time to think about what Penny said, maybe she'll arrive at the same question many in the audience came to; if she's literally part of Winter, can they be separated again? If Winter starts questioning that, the possibility of Penny coming back just skyrockets.

Fria actually tells Penny "I'll be gone" before giving her powers up, which is an interesting contrast to Penny telling Winter "I won't be gone". She may have gotten that line from Winter be all philosophical in V7, saying Fria was now a part of Penny, but it hits differently coming from an actual Maiden. S5o it’s possible that Maidens usually actually will be gone, but Jaune's semblance did something to change that.

This could go well with the theory that they won't need to find an aura transfer machine, or build another one, because Jaune will have a semblance evolution allowing him to do the transfer instead. It might actually be that this evolution already happened and the golden light we saw was Jaune transferring penny's aura to Winter in some way?

An observation that I find interesting is when Penny gives winter the powers, not only is the aura yellow but penny completely glows yellow too, and she obviously starts to disappear, but she doesn’t seem to fully disappear, she just glows.

It's possibly a fading out effect and she does fully fade but animation makes bright light easier, and so we don't actually see her disappear because she's dead and not gone. But it does once again emphasize the color yellow here!

And the color is coming from Penny, it does go up Winter's arm a bit, but Penny is clearly the source. This transfer is so weird and I’m not really sure how to interpret it. There's just actually no reason that we are aware of to make the effect yellow here is the thing. Unless it has something to do with either Jaune or Ambrosius, or potentially a combination of both...

Jaune’s Aura:

The way we see Jaune's aura break in the finale is strange. His aura shouldn't be breaking here. It had been long enough since he was boosting Penny, he's had time to recharge, and it didn't look like it was a strain on him at all. Plus, we know he has a lot of aura, so there probably wasn't too much to recharge in the first place.

He has a massive amount of aura, it has never broken before as far as I remember. Even if it has though, that doesn’t make this occurrence any less odd. It should absolutely never be a one-hit KO. We didn't see anything that would've drained it, that should not have been enough to break his aura. Unless he did something - something that would require a huge amount of aura - that we just didn't see. That amount of aura drain is far more than just an attempt at healing would do, Jaune absolutely did something with his semblance that took up almost all of his aura.

Pinocchio Allusion:

As any Penny fan knows, her character allusion is Pinocchio, the puppet who became a real boy. Penny deviates from the allusion by having always been a real girl, as Ruby is quick to point out, but she shares many story beats with her original story including multiple deaths. In the original story, Pinocchio dies from being hung by his own strings due to his poor decision making and he dies. Sounds a little familiar, does it not? This is where his tale originally ended. Readers were unsatisfied with this ending however, so the author decided to change the story by reviving Pinocchio and teaching him to be more careful.

Unlike Pinocchio making all the wrong decisions, Penny often makes the right ones, or ones she thinks is right, when concerning others. While usually a good thing, this has meant Penny almost giving herself up multiple times during V8, her last attempt being successful. This is where Penny and Pinocchio begin to share similarities again. They are both very reckless when it concerns themselves. This carelessness comes from different places, but it ends with the same result of them endangering their lives and even sometimes losing them.

In the Disney movie, Pinocchio dies by drowning after going to rescue Geppetto and washes up on the shore (like the beach in V8’s post credit scene). His father is devastated and takes him home to grieve, but as a reward for his selflessness in rescuing his father, the Blue Fairy returns and brings him back to life, as well as granting him humanity. Penny sacrificed her life as well, and it stands to reason that she should be rewarded for it, much like her allusion was.

Penny got her maiden powers from someone with blue aura and then gave her powers to someone with blue aura. So it could be that not only Ambrosius, but Fria and Winter as well represent the Blue Fairy. It could be set up for Winter helping to bring Penny back to life once more. It’s an out there theory I admit, but it’s not outright impossible either. The Blue Fairy in Pinocchio saved him three times that I know of, so RWBY having three representations does make sense.

Geppetto wished for him to live as a real boy, but it depended on what path Pinocchio took. This is very reminiscent of Penny and Pietro. Pietro wants to see her live her life, and surely with him absent in V8C14 that didn't work, despite Penny choosing. Her father did not see her happy enough to live her life, and will only be able to learn her death through others. But Pinocchio's themes were life and being alive. So the likelihood that this is not her end yet is quite high!

A Girl That Fell Through the World:

Penny could be the girl who fell through the world. The girl in the story fled the consequences of a choice. The only person who chose her ultimate fate was Penny. The others were pushed into the void, but she chose to die. The consequence of her choice is Ruby’s grief first and foremost, which Penny won’t see. The girl who fell through the world does come back though, and the world will be changed severely with Penny’s absence. Alternatively, it could also be Penny coming back to Wonderland or wherever they currently are, as long as it’s unrecognizable to her.

What Returning Brings:

Others might say another return would have no story relevant purpose, but I wholeheartedly disagree. Penny gives a profoundly youthful, joyous, and wondrous outlook on the world and story that we hadn't seen since Ruby in Volumes 1-3(not the end), Penny returning would bring a much needed levity back in after the despair they will undoubtedly be going through. While not necessarily a huge thing in most other shows, for RWBY, a show largely about keeping up hope, an ounce of such relief is a necessity.

As much as I hate saying it, Penny’s death does actually make some narrative sense because she had to pass on the Maiden powers. (They could have done this in a number of ways, and I personally think they chose rather poorly, but I digress.) Throughout this whole volume, we can see Penny seemingly being set up to join the main cast, but would have been too strong with the powers. This also accomplishes ridding her of the burden of responsibility that comes with being a Maiden and lets her obtain the freedom that’s so important to her character.

Once she returns, seeing this grief that her actions caused, particularly to Ruby, will get her to realize more that her actions can have serious repercussions. She made a choice, but that choice hurt the people she loves. She must have known that it would but I’m not sure she ever realized just how much.

I didn’t want this post to be heavy in the shipping department, so I largely left it out, but I am going to say this one thing that could have an impact. If Nuts & Dolts is on its way to being canon, which this volume makes it feel highly likely, this could be a catalyst.

It could prompt an arc for the both of them in which Penny learns to live her life fighting for her loved ones, rather than sacrificing it for them. A relationship could potentially start from there. And Ruby seeing Penny learn these things may also help her to stop doing the occasional but very dangerous and reckless things she does. Ruby witnessing Penny coming to terms with what she did to the people that care about her would actually make her stop to think “wait, is this how everyone else would feel if I got myself killed?” That would be a very important moment of character growth for her.

I’m certain there are other significant things that Penny returning can bring to the show. And there are definitely more sections I could add to this. At this point though, assuming anyone even made it this far, I think I’ve been going long enough already. So let’s just roll into the outro!

As painful and hopeless as it seems, I'm choosing to trust them with this because there is absolutely no way they didn't see backlash coming. The way this finale went makes me think that they calculated for backlash and aren’t jumping into something they don’t have a plan to recover from. Whether this trust is unfounded or not remains to be seen, but I don’t think it is currently. I do think, however, that the cause of this backlash was a major misstep. Now that it has happened though, they have a chance to do something good with it.

I know for a lot of you, trust in CRWBY has been damaged, some even irreparably so. And for those that feel this way, I don’t blame you. My trust in them took a hit too, but isn’t broken completely yet. There are many ways that they can bring her back that would make sense with the narrative, they have the ability to make it right, and after going over all of the hints and general weirdness of things many times, I think they will.

I'm feeling pretty confident now and I really didn't expect that to happen at all to be honest. But discussing and theorizing with the discord server seriously helped get my hopes back up surprisingly fast! It’s actually thanks to all of them that this gigantic post even happened! So thanks a ton my fellow Dolts! And a special thanks to!!

@arcana-amicus

@catontheweb

@cosmokyrin

@gaydontmesswithme224

@jammatown919

@shadow-0f-x

They really helped get this thing across the finish line!

And thank YOU for reading all~ of this! I sincerely wish it gave you some of the hope and confidence that I now have!

[tolkien-feels]

Happy Tolkien Reading Day!!

I don't remember when I first began doing this, but the way I celebrate Reading Day is by choosing a relevant passage each from the Silm, the Hobbit and LotR, and then I think a little bit about why I like these passages in particular. I also strictly forbid myself from choosing a passage longer than three paragraphs or so, to prevent myself from picking entire chapters.

I really LOVE this year's theme (Love & Friendship) so it was very, very difficult to choose my passages, simply because I wanted to pick like ten for each book. In the end, I went with these.......

The Silmarillion

I know what you're all thinking. Of course I'm choosing Blorbo from my war crimes. But actually, no, that's not why I chose it. I chose it because I trust people will bring up lots of moving tales of devotion, but this is a passage I'm extremely fond of and that I find to be pretty underrated.

The Silmarillion. The story of the Silmarils. Most priceless of jewels, most prized of subcreations, keeper of the Light even gods long for. "What do the Silmarils do?" is a common question with many answers, but my view is that they're dear. They're wanted, they're beloved, they are impossible to substitute. When Beren says a Silmaril is a small price for Luthien, we are all suitably impressed.

But here is how the tale of the Silmarils begin - with the loss of another person who is more beloved than them. The Silmarils have but a fragment of Treelight - Finwe is dearer than the Trees themselves, and Feanor weeps not for their destruction, but for Finwe's death. The Silmarils are but Feanor's favorite subcreation - but Finwe matters more to him than all of his creations. For the Silmarils alone, Feanor dares the mightiest of Valar. What would he do for all the works of his hands and all the Light of Aman? That's difficult to imagine, given that Feanor's love for the Silmarils is tainted by possessiveness, so it's nearly impossible to take a guess at how Finwe's death would have impacted him if the Silmarils hadn't been stolen, and if he hadn't already been corrupted by himself and Morgoth's lies.

Still, I find it heartbreaking (soulcrushing, actually) to interpret the Silmarillion through these lenses. As dear as the Silmarils prove themselves to be, Finwe was dearer, like Luthien was. There's such a thing as love that says "You are dearer to me than the best creation of the gods captured within the best creation of elves" - how can you read that little section and not understand why the Noldor wept seeing Feanor's pain? I definitely can't!

The Hobbit

The Hobbit was... Weird? I immediately knew I wanted this section, because I love it, but as I tried to figure out what other options I had, just in case I was overlooking something, I realized how weirdly loveless this book is? Don't get me wrong, friendship is still a major theme, but it's specifically as opposed to disputes. The Hobbit doesn't have huge moments of impossible devotion like Tolkien's books usually do. As I tried to think of why, I realized that Tolkien actually treats The Power of Love and Friendship not as something childish, but as something adult. Even in the Hobbit, the reader has to grow up with Bilbo before this passage can land. The greater the darkness, the greater the devotion. When you put it like that, it's almost silly we think of friendship as being a theme naturally suited for children's books? (I mean I can see why it is, but I can also see Tolkien's point!)

Anyway as for the passage itself, the line that made me cry when I was 10 and still makes me stop for a moment whenever I read it, is "I am glad that I have shared in your perils." Bilbo, who wants nothing more than comfort and peace the entire adventure, is actually glad not just to have known Thorin, but to have shared in his perils. That's something I could see Beleg saying to Turin, but coming from Bilbo Baggins it just takes my breath away.

Thorin says Bilbo's friendship is of more worth than all his treasures - his gold and his silver - and Bilbo says Thorin's friendship is of more worth than all his treasures - comfort and peace. I was expecting Thorin's arc even at 10 years old - "love is more important than riches!" is a cliche - but I truly did not expect Bilbo to turn around and say "yes, but love is also worth facing darkness for." I couldn't word it like that at the time (I don't think I worded it like that until I first read Beren and Luthien and it hit me like a freight train) but it taught me an important lesson for life, and prepared me to read Tolkien in the way that I do, which is always looking for what people are willing to give up and for what reason.

The Lord of the Rings

LotR was the hardest to pick. Not because there were no good options, but because nearly every page is about love and friendship. Decision paralysis is so real.

A Conspiracy Unmasked is one of my favorite chapters (maybe the very favorite, even) so I thought I should choose something from that... But as I was leafing through my book I remembered this moment, and I knew it had to be it. This exchange here is so foundational to Tolkien's themes. The one in danger, who wants to protect those he loves from his dark fate. Those who love him, unwilling to be left behind.

"We are envying Sam, not you" is one hell of a line. I daresay this can be applied to so many situations. I'm sure Maglor does not envy Maedhros - but does he envy Fingon? Luthien certainly doesn't envy Beren, but she noticeably takes over Finrod's role after his death. These are people who very very very famously know a thing or two about danger.

It's that theme again - "I am glad to have shared in your perils." It's also the Feanorian "Between Light and you, I choose you." The Shire, Rivendell, Valinor - there's no place that can bring you any comfort if the one you love is comfortless. An ideal world would give all who love the opportunity to spare their loved ones any pain - Frodo and Merry both say "I don't want you to suffer" and so do Sam and Pippin - but if that's an impossibility in Arda Marred, then facing darkness together is the one consolation left for both parties.

Even though Pippin is Pippin and I doubt he's carefully considering his words, I think he's onto something. To be allowed to "share in your perils" is a reward. Frodo cannot see it just then, but it is. I mean, what wouldn't Hurin have done for the possibility of suffering alongside his wife and children? Not for lifting the Curse, just for being there. Powerlessness is torture, even away from Morgoth - ask Eowyn.

I can't help but think of Frodo's struggle when he leaves the Fellowship only to find Sam has come after him. The horror of having to lead someone you love into an evil fate is only surpassed by the comfort of not being alone. On the other hand, the horror of letting someone face an evil fate alone is greater than the comfort of being safe yourself. Either way, if you do the math, sticking together if at all possible is the wiser option.

You know, I don't enjoy reading about pain for the sake of it. (I can understand the appeal, it's just not for me.) But the reason I find pain in Tolkien so meaningful is just this. Every pain can be matched by equal devotion, and both the one helping and the one being helped consider themselves equally lucky. I know that's not always how it works in real life, but it's so satisfying to see in a world where Evil (not evil, Evil) can be overcome by love and friendship, a world where coming together is always the right thing to do, and - and this I find the most touching - accepting help is as wise and brave as giving it.

In conclusion I love today's theme ✨a completely normal amount✨

[lilacerull0]

☀️SCRAPBOOKS OF FLOWERS☀️

Ok people so this is me rewriting Scrapbooks of Flowers which is my original (abandoned Jo, call it what it is, you left this child at the orphanage and now you wanna pull off a Matthew Cuthbert seamlessly🧙‍♀️) storybook that revolves around a group of crazy young people who do what crazy young people do. Which is think. While desperately trying not to think. Or is that a people thing? Anyways. Every story's inspired by a flower hence the title. The names you'll run into reading this aka my ocs: Revelius (The Dreamer, The Legend, The Man (not the Taylor Swift one) The Malewife, 💫I love all of my children equally💫 *he's me but like... my favourite part of me), Dorothy (she's me, I'll probably deny it later, but she's me), Nova (Rev's sister, The Great Narrator), Lyerr (also me just more cat-like than owl-like) and Audrey (she rocks and she's the best and I love her <3) which will be the central characters. This heavily leans into that undefined space between dreams and reality and hopefully manages to kill off some dangerous stereotypes in the process (I hear they fight like girls which we all know is a compliment). Also influenced by Taylor Swift's 1989 polaroids, there's one attached to each chapter. So, here it is! First chapter under the cut! (Oh and obviously there's a lot of what we like to call ✨platonic soulmates excellence✨ here!)

the first photograph: scrapbook of dandelions

“In the cracks of light, I dreamed of you.”

- evermore, Taylor Swift

Powerful is the existence alone.

Nature was screaming her name. Fields of gold offered her security in burning shades of yellow and dark orange. Flowers sent her invitations. She muttered curses under her breath as she ran towards what she considered to be an infinite source of wisdom. She ran towards overwhelming knowledge, tempting harmony and haunting serenity of pure creation. And Dorothy only ever kept running, never knowing her limits, never meeting a permanently satisfying explanation to anything. Discovery. What a cursed blessing! So helplessly intertwined with what had already happened and what might be or might never be.

“I want to breathe.” Dorothy remembers those words as if it were yesterday that she first heard them. Words, pronounced in dead silence, their owner her most beloved companion.

"Well, you are breathing, Revelius. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here with me. You must be aware of that…” the book she was reading is to be put aside, to rest on the grass, her attention now completely devoted to the unearthly human beside her.

“Am I really?” it’s muttered. It’s meant to be forgotten, overlooked, and never spoken of again. But it’s still shared which means that, even if not meant to, it longs to be heard.

 “Are you what?”

 “Am I really here?”

As this flash of light meets its end and the scrapbook in her mind closes, hiding its pages again, Dorothy finds herself wandering deeper and deeper in. There are millions of people in her head. There are writers fighting for quills, wizards throwing their wands, students standing on desks, ghosts cursing their deaths. The words must have had a meaning. The ones Revelius had shared, shared as his smile slowly encountered its sunset. They must have had.

“Why drop it, though? You like latin.” the two of them volunteered to clean the school library, dusty bookshelves staring at them judgingly. Dorothy is standing while Revelius is on the floor, cross-legged, enthusiastically reading random novel entries out loud, when she interrupts him with said question.

“I guess latin didn’t like me." this earns him an expecting glare which he welcomes with an amused laugh.

"I dropped it. I just didn’t find any pleasure in studying it anymore. It begun to feel like a habit, so I dropped it."

"Yeah, wish I could just "drop out" like that. Unfortunately, that’s not how life works.”

"It does if you decide it does."  seconds after, he’s on his feet, stealing the book from her hands and before she knows it, he’s out of her sight, leaving those soft and poorly controlled chuckles of his to the dusty air.

She should have known. Should have learned, remembered, put the pieces together sooner. The most important of puzzles and she didn't solve it.

"My brain is owned by somebody else's wacky spirit, I just know it! I don’t remember the process of writing the poem, yet it’s here!" 

"First off, you invented "being wacky" and then made it cool so respectfully: shut up. Secondly, I think you should give yourself some credit, it is your poem. You earned that. That is your creation, right there."  last syllables are accompanied with the most wonderful, reassuring, comforting face expression. There must be a timeline in which Dorothy is a rose or a dandelion, because right now she looks like a flower.

"I don’t know about that. Was it actually worth printing? Look at all these other poems, they’re all so…”

“So unique in their personal little orbits, just like your insanely interesting self.”

“I am going to hug you now Dorothy, whether you like it or not. I might even let you use me as a lab rat later. Not that you need my consent anyways, it's not like I'd notice what you're doing but still, you get the point."

"I’m proud of you, Rev. You'll make an excellent lab rat to many."

For once, he doesn’t say anything to contradict the statement.

Mornings before were different. Dorothy cannot pin point the exact spot in which everything shifted. Nothing drastic ever happened. But sometimes she catches herself walking past a certain bus station or a bookstore or a restaurant and she can sense her past self somewhere in there, eating ice cream on a bench, reading in the park or walking quietly, head stuck in the clouds. Sometimes she notices something, random people or small movements, that remind her Of what, she doesn't know. (And it drives her positively insane. Not knowing.) It’s a silent and a quick sensation, but it absolutely destroys her in those very few seconds of its brief existence. It does eventually pass.

It all passes.

This is how novels are born.

 Everything is spinning.

Everything is usually spinning for her and she’s never had much of an issue with that. But it’s all too quick now. Now, she only sees snippets of her surroundings. She focuses on that little hole on Rev’s sweater, that little one on his shoulder, the one he wholeheartedly refused to have fixed because he loves that sweater. He loves that sweater and she loves that stupid smile he wears like some people wear lockets with pictures of their loved ones caged inside. Unchangeable, almost like a chore, but so full of love and hope and everything Dorothy doesn't bother believing in. His eyes are glistening, but he still has that stupid smile all over his face. It’s all like an old photograph to her, everything she's seeing in that moment. A sea of suitcases, hats, suites, boots, heels and carefully prepared gifts, bottles wrapped in bright, decorative papers.

"Your train leaves at seven.”

“I know.”

“I packed you a sandwich.”

“I know.”

“To think you are going to be paid to stab people once you finish med school… That’s… so you…”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

***

Med school’s amazing. Dorothy spends countless hours in the school library, belonging to a different universe entirely. And it just hits her one day: she does belong here. With people who get excited while talking about heart failures, with study sessions that turn into endless ramblings on topics such as chess moves or candy flavours. And her roommate, Celestine, surprisingly, is quite nice.

 Here, Dorothy doesn’t have to run anymore.

***

“Why do people feel the need to define everything? I understand that we crave explanations, but why labels?”

Celestine looks at her roommate in question, because it’s almost midnight and they’re trying to get some sleep. Dorothy’s rambles truly have no limits. Not even during exam week.

 “Just go to sleep, Dorothy.”

 ***

She can’t put whatever she feels for Rev in a box. She can’t frame put his picture in a heart-shaped locket and call it true love. That’s why she mumbled that question last night, despite clearly knowing she won’t get an answer from Celestine or anybody else. But she needed to say it out loud. If Rev was here, she would have told him. And more importantly, he would have understood.

***

“You’re in love with that boy.”

It’s a statement, a clear decleration said with immense certainty and Dorothy should claim it as valid. But, before anything else, she never thought of Rev as a boy. He was always a person for her. Her person. And she should accept this explanation Celestine is providing her with and say: “Yes, I am”, put on a soft smile and occupy her fingers with the hem of her shirt. That’s what a girl in the movie does. And just like that, everything would have been resolved. She would have had her answer and she'd be free to move on and fall ridiculously in love with another frustrating question.

"I don’t think that’s true enough.”

 And it’s left at that.

***

Medicine excites her. It sets her body on fire. She listens and takes notes and feels this incredible sense of fulfilment flowing through her bones. All her life, she wanted to do something meaningful. Something that was bigger than her in a way, something that would make a bit of a change, something that would breathe life into people. This was it. Staying up late at the lab, enormous books helping her defy the power of gravity. Strangely, she doesn’t detect the need to dissect and classify the emotion. She allows it to simply be. She realises how she is not the one to put too much effort into things that aren’t supposed to be understood. "Not knowing" is still hard, but it isn't that scary of a stalker once you've threatened it a fair amount. She still can't not wish to know though. It’s simply not how she functions. But learning to breathe a bit differently is a start.

***

“You didn’t call.”

“I promised myself I wouldn’t hold you back.”

But she is back at something, back at home for the weekend and he’s still here. Still writing poems, still trying to fit into his own life. It’s familiar. The balcony they’re standing on, their coffee mugs painted with those same, funny, colourful cats. She knows her past self is here. She’s strikingly aware of her. But she’s not too far away this time, hiding behind trees and disappearing within flickers of light. This time, her past self is proudly shaking her hand.

“Well Rev, for whatever it’s worth, the spot for my most beloved companion slash lab rat remained open.”

He smiles with that smile that died decades ago and she knows. He understands. The blurry lines, the lack of labels, the string that’s connecting them. All of it.

She loves him. For whatever it means, in whatever way, in whatever reality.

She. loves. him.

And that’s all that can be said about it.

I’m platonically in love with you.

- Alice Oseman

[herstarburststories]

He didn’t make it to 42

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: it’s Dean’s birthday, you go to visit him with some news and things that need to be said.

A/N: Happy bday, De.

Warnings: so much angst, mentions of sex, hopeful/happy ending (?)

Dean’s dead. It’s Dean’s birthday and he’s dead. You can’t argue much.

Sam denied the demon blood inside him, and that didn’t stop its evil nature from growing and gasping for his fresh air to the point he was almost shocked alive. Dean denied his dad’s destructive methods’ results for the longest time, and that didn’t stop the cicatrixes in every emotion he had ever shown. You denied the absence of Dean and that didn’t stop the bricks cracking in your soul. There’s only so far you can go with your eyes closed.

So here you are. Standing in front of an empty grave. You are bigger than the dull tombstone, yet you can’t help but not to feel tall, at all. How can you even start to talk? Talking to Dean used to be easy even when it got hard and now you’re feeling like a lost kid in a supermarket. Your snide thinking spells out his name with venom, saying it isn’t easy for you to open your barmy mouth and spill out contrarian shit because this isn’t Dean, just another meaningless symbolism that Sam promises that will help. The real Dean died almost a year ago, he was burned in a hunter’s funeral, the flames dancing over his body as the smell of burnt meat invaded your nostrils. Whenever you try to remember his fragrance, that manly aroma which you loved to scent each morning, all your brain can come up with is the odor of his skin and guts burning. The smell lingers like bad perfume, it doesn’t matter how many times you wash yourself with his soap-- that only broke your heart worse.

But today is Dean’s birthday. He deserves a visit, even if it’s not him. Then you go and attempt to deal with the desolation, push it away just a little, and pick up something from the enormous pile of things you wish to tell Dean. You glance at the cold tombstone: Dean Winchester. 1979 - 2020. Beloved son, big brother, and husband. Hunter. A hero. Simple definitions that can never make it up for who he was and what he meant. You purse your lips and cough a little, a gentle wind touches your cheek so tenderly. If you were still a believer, you’d think this is some sort of sign, Dean’s presence or some other pious hoax. All you do now is to remain in quietude, a deep breath. Ultimately, your voice comes:

‘’You didn’t make it to forty two, huh?’’ You scoff humorless, reminiscing to the multiple days that Dean said he wouldn’t go past 35. He did live each year like it was the last--- you aren’t sure if it's such a good thing. If you carry on like your days are outnumbered, you are silently entertaining yourself until death's knock on your door. ‘’I always hated when you were right. Let’s be honest, you had the words of a pessimist and the wants of an optimist. Still, if you were to be right about something, it would be about a bad situation. A nest with too many vampires, how crappy the motel’s bedroom would be, or how that third glass of wine would make me tipsy. So yeah, I always hated when you were right. And look at you now! You aren’t right, you aren’t wrong. You are dead! And I’m the crazy girl screaming at an empty tombstone.’’

You let out a laugh empty of joy. That’s how a hunter’s life is: you die and people stop talking about you because it’s too sad or too long gone to hold any pity, meanwhile the ones who recall about you go loud with all the spirits in their heads. You put your hand in the pockets of the heavy leather jacket that once belonged to a green eyed man who would be turning 42 today, some strange force causing you to speak again.

‘’Wow.’’ You shake your head to the blue way you paint the scene until you notice that you never greeted him. ‘’Hey.’’ The simple word adds a comical insult to injury. ‘’Guess the dead don’t care about manners, huh?’’ You arch your eyebrows with a grin that demonstrates anything but happiness. ‘’Miracle died. Sam digged a hole next to the bunker and buried him there. He isn’t the same since you died, you know? Not the deceased dog-- Well, he wasn’t the same either. Always whining and scratching your door like a fucking cat, and sniffing your old boots. He made me company in your bed and I whined as much as he did when you didn’t come back home that day. He stood by the door most days, waiting for you to appear. I can’t judge him, I did the same.’’ You shrug, not caring about how risible that confession may look. It's true. You became as irrational as a loyal dog at some point in this sorrow. ‘’And Sam, your baby brother… I think he died with you right there, Dean. He didn’t try to bring you back as he promised, but I shouted and screamed so much. I said I would burn the bunker and throw Baby over a cliff if he didn’t-- if he didn’t let me try. I lived up to the mad woman title.’’

You are crestfallen, pacing on top of where the eldest Winchester - Sam’s brand new nomination -  supposedly was buried. You know your boots barely touch an infected land, there's no deceased man under your steps. The dead thing is in you.

‘’I spent days dragging your body everywhere and nowhere, anywhere I could catch a crumb of relief in hope to bring you back. But I couldn’t. Jack could, but that ungrateful idiot doesn’t wanna follow his grandpa steps and get too attached to mere humans, the creation or whatever. As if we are just some skin and bone to him, as if you are just another human.’’

You sit down on the tombstone, some tender solace in being close to a thing that's supposed to represent him, like sleeping hugged to a pillow or waking up to a photograph of his. Your nails sink against the gelid concrete at the thought of screaming into the sky for the new God that seemed as deaf as the last one. His calm answer to your burning pain. How he dared to tell you he knew what he was doing— as if he was the original lord and not a three years old. You can't make him do it, so you hold on the fury of some overthrown nation.

‘’Anyway, I couldn’t bring you back. Your body, well, you know how human anatomy works. Your body started to smell like death. We tried to stop with human and magic ways, and it wouldn’t work because you were dead. You should’ve seen the doctor’s face when we got you in that fancy hospital tha night. I think we traumatized the doctor with so much violence and trauma. She didn’t even give us a false hope or anything, you know? She just asked about organ donation of what was left. She just wanted to take every little thing out of you, as if you were just another accident on a Tuesday night.’’ Your shake your head as the memories and your points start to mix, it's hard to discern things and keep a straight line when you have an open wound in your insides. ‘’Well, they couldn’t bring you back to life, and neither could Rowena or whatever I looked for. Don’t be mad because I tried, Winchester. You know I’m too stubborn for my own good. I had to try.’’ you refuse to apologize, yet adds the playful words in his eulogy. ‘’But then your body started to stink and God, how could I continue to be so violent to your corpse? That was when I decided to listen to you for the first time and to Sam, so I let you go. I hate you for asking that.’’ What an ambiguous, contradictory truth to bare. You are glimpses of a person for months because of Dean Winchester, still have the energy to argue his selfless logic, just to love him even more. He's got your devotion, but man you can hate him sometimes. ‘’I hate you for going on that stupid hunt. I hate you for being dead, you giant idiot that I love so much.’’ You can't bring your mouth to say loved. "I was always telling you to let the past go and now I’m in love with a dead thing. What a comic way to end our history. I told you that Miracle died, right? I don’t know if dogs go to heaven, but I hope he’s in there with you. I wonder what your heaven is like. I bet it has Whiskey.''

Your dry chuckle makes your notice the tears in your eyes, glistening your orbs as they go like a waterfall to be absorbed by the thirsty land after leaving your cheeks.

"Sam and I-- We tried to make some sense out of this cruelty, but we can’t. You are dead and I can’t seem to put it past me. I still sleep in your bed, and I can still taste your body burning on the roof of my mouth in the quiet nights. I cried this morning because someone asked for a burger, can you believe that? It was so stupid since I used to shake my head and argue with you about cholesterol. Suddenly I was crying at lunch in a restaurant because some stupid kid asked for a burger with extra bacon. They sang Happy birthday to this dumbass child, and I interrupted with my awful crying, and wished that you were celebrating your birthday and not that kid. I guess you could say I wish death upon an innocent child with a problematic eating routine.’’ That was a whole new level of low, as if you are the one wrapped with the sentiment of laying six feet under.

‘’Everyone tells you about how grief is singular and particular with similar emotions that bring people who went through this together. They even have that crap stages thing and all that. You know what they don’t tell you?’’ Your mouth shuts for a moment, like you are waiting some response. You nod as if whatever you were expecting is handed to you. ‘’Grief can be fucking ridiculous. Who cries because of a burger full of oil and cardiac diseases? Who cries because they found a grocery store recipe under her dead boyfriend’s bed? Who falls on the ground screaming in the middle of the mall because they saw a flannel? Who? Those things are so stupid.’’ You smile like there's no tomorrow and the laugh leaving your lips is a treacherous tone. Perhaps you just aren't build up to express joy anymore. ‘’You see it in the movies and in the books and you think, you know, you think to yourself that grieving is being sad on special dates and randomly remembering the loved ones because of some screaming memory, like a flannel or their perfume. Thing is, it’s not just that. All your body seems so small, so tight for all the ache and agony inside it. Your senses go wild, you are not just one person in one place. You’re just the pain everywhere, like being pulled apart and you beg to jump in the fucking grave with them. At least you would be together, at least you would feel like one person and not suffering edges of a broken earthy thing. And--And you start remembering things you didn’t even know you had mesmerized. I look at the ceiling and remember you saying you’d paint it someday. I look at the kitchen and remember me screaming at you for giving Miracle the rest of the food. I smell Sam’s clothes and started crying because hey, they don’t smell like alcohol. You don’t iron them while drinking anymore, so of course they don’t smell like cheap beer.’’ You are chuckling through the tears and it only makes it more monstrous. ‘’Everything is you now that you are gone. Every man has something similar to you, every garden is green as your eyes, and each step sounds like you are coming home. They didn’t prepare me, not for this.’’ You said breathless. A soft single follows. The knife cuts both ways; the empty breeze and the words hurt. Where's the middle term? Where's the limbo? Where's the only safe place for you to rest your weary head?

Out of nowhere, you blurt out, ‘’I can’t masturbate,’’ I know it’s something stupid and even selfish to say, but I think you’d like to know. I can’t masturbate. That’s a part of the whole losing someone process that people are too ashamed to discuss, or maybe they don’t have the urge to be touched anymore because after someone you love dies, after someone-- the hands who touched are dead and cold, you become a haunted object. That’s how I feel most days, like I’m a haunted house because you touched me and now you’re dead and some days I believe I am too.’’ You look around the places. It's beautiful. It's lonely. It has trees and flowers and green. Not as green as Dean's eyes, but it doesn't matter anymore. He doesn't even have eyes at this point. ‘’Well, I can’t masturbate. I can’t touch myself. And I can’t ask someone else either. I tried and ended up punching the guy, Dean. I swear. I panicked when he was between my legs and just punched his nose. You’d have liked it, you were always the jealous kind. I won’t admit that, but I thought it was kinda hot. Especially when you got possessive in sex.’’ A dirty grin appeared on your lips, the echoes of luxury lasting in your eyes for a brief moment. ‘’I don’t think I can be cared for anymore, honestly. Sam tried to hug me when Miracle died and I… It was like I wasn't there. I got frozen in time, and I live in my sleep. In my nightmares you are alive. I  dream about the day you died every week and I used to wake up screaming, but now those nightmares are the only proof you were alive now that you’re as dead as the police report says this time. It was the most painful, calamitous moment for you and I swear it was a nightmare for me, but then I realized that at least I had you there, egoistical or not, I made my nightmare into a dream.’’ You aren't sure which opinion Dean would have on that. Would he understand? Would he shake his head? You wish you can ask him just this one more thing, just beg him to write it down for you on how to be without him here.

You raise on your feet, glaring at the name craved in the concrete. The tears go by still, although they're as usual as the blood in glir veins at this point. ‘’Death is so silly. What it takes, anyway?" Each word conquers more inches of pure wrath. ''People die because they stumbled on their own feet and hit their head somewhere, or they drove their car too close and too fast to the cliff, or because they were giving birth, or because they dated the wrong person, or because they were hunting a fucking vampire and got impaled. What are the chances? How stupid, and idiotic is death? Always creeping and waiting to bite and chew a piece of you-- Taking every scrap of you from me like that’s its right.’’ You are screaming, starting to kick and punch the tombstone with any piece of straight you have. Your limbs hurt and the blood is visible, but you keep going. ‘’YOUR STUPID DOG DIED, DEAN! AND YOU DIED! AND I DIED! SAMMY DIED! YEAH, IS SAID SAMMY! GO AHEAD, TELL ME ONLY YOU CAN CALL HIM THAT.’’ Another punch, your knuckles are ripped. Another kick, your boot as a hole. ‘’DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.’’ Kick. ‘’SAMMY, SAMMY, SAMMY!’’ A punch to each name. Anything to get a reaction, to get comfort. Anything. ‘’YOU CAN’T BECAUSE YOU ARE DEAD.’’ Gasping for something you don't need anymore, sweet oxygen, your eyes are on the tombstone again. And the definitions. And the trees. Your body is sore and aching. It is the kind and coercion no person wants which you needed; the freedom of feeling outside the exact pain that was inside. ‘’You can’t because you are dead. I’ve been playing some sick games in my mind, you know? Sam stopped hunting and had his closure. He was always better at letting go than you and I, but he’s still hurting. I never saw him hurting so much. I think he knows you won’t come back this time, how could you make us promise something like that?  Well, my twisted game is a bunch of misleading what ifs. What if you hadn’t gone after John? What if you hadn’t gone on that last hunt? What if you had stayed with Lisa? At first I didn’t like her much. Jealous, I admit that. But she grew on me. She gave you something I couldn’t back then and I’ll always be thankful for that. And even though it would rip me apart, I’d rather you to die at sixth after living your suburban dream with her. Have another kid besides Ben, maybe a girl this time, and just have that apple pie life. You and Sam would live close and your kids would always play. They’d be as close as brothers. Maybe I’d get a guy and bring my own kids and we could’ve a barbecue and everyone would be happy. But we don’t get soft epilogues here. It ends how it starts, right? Bloody and desperate. I thought maybe, maybe Lisa could understand what’s going through my head now. I drove to her new address and parked close to her house. I must have spent hours there, thinking if I should come in or not, If she somehow remembered after Castiel died or if I could make her brain work again if I told her the truth. But then I just drove back home and fell asleep wrapped in that stupid lumberjack flannel of yours. The one I always mocked, yeah? She may understand me, but I know you wouldn’t want that. You want her, you want me and Sam to be happy. I don’t know if I can do that, Dean. It’s like myt brittle soul shrewd and my body is just waiting to collapse.’’ You signed, overwhelmed by the battle without an anthem. The victory with no triumph. Is it still a win when you don't have someone to come home too? ‘’Your dog died, it’s the first birthday you didn’t live to see, and I bought all the things you told Mrs Butters you wanted for your birthday because it’s your birthday. I just don’t know how to celebrate it with you dead. People stop counting after they die, right? They just say he’d have been 42 or he died at 41. They give melancholy smiles when they wake up and check the day on their phones and a woe atmosphere swallows them for the rest of the day. Then they get better the next day. I think everyday is your birthday.’’ You attempt to wipe away your tears, which only causes your pulsating hand to stain your face red. ‘’Dean, for the first time, what died stayed dead! Congrats.’’ Once again, a hysterical laugh. ‘’I wish but no. What died didn’t stay dead, you are alive, so alive in my head. I swear you are there some days. I wake and watch the door, so sure you’ll come back. Sam says I’m living in delusion and I have to wake up and keep going since that's what you would want. That's enough to make him keep going, but it only makes me angry. Everyone we know and some strangers looks at me like I'm a house on fire and no longer a warm home, like I'm a car accident. They think I don't notice but I do.’’ You look at your boots, the whole is rolling out blood like your hands. You feel closer to Dean. How sick.

‘’Help, I’m still right where you left me." You plea, his love lingering like a bruise. ''I think gravity is overwhelming and it keeps me here. Sometimes it’s like I’m one of those dusted books Sam used to read. Or those Bukowski ones that you hid, so we wouldn’t see how smart you’re. You tried so hard to hide your intelligence because you didn’t think you were entitled to it. You saw yourself as the protector and never the valuable one for protection. You, the man who made an EMF out of an old radio, who rebuilt the Impala from the ground multiple times, and who knew patterns better than any detective. The man who showed me I could rely on someone other than myself. The dude with a lopsided grin, tough hands and a heart of gold. I miss you so much. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were singing all those classic rock songs and Taylor Swift pop hits, while I drove here. I would think you were home, smelling like guts because you wanted to eat before taking a shower after a hunt. I would think that you are in the Deancave, waiting for me to curl up on your lap to watch Scooby Doo or Doctor Sexy MD until we aren’t watching anymore. If I didn’t know better I would think no death could take you from me. There would be no tear us apart in our vows.’’ The only thing that keeps your organism working is that Dean died knowing how much you loved him. You never let this talk for later or never. No tomorrow is promised. That's a nice comfort, maybe that's what will help you to let go in the future. ‘’But yesterday your stupid, skink dog died and I lost the last living thing that I had from you. You know what’s more angerting? I cried and Sam cried and I noticed we were the living things you left behind and all we have is each other. All your closets of backlogged dreams were left for us-- so yeah. Sam is done hunting and he’s met a lovely girl, and they are moving in like in your domestic dreams. I’m taking care of the family business like your other contradictory dream and making sure Sam is safe enough to be normal. Because I have to, we have too. Stupidly enough, I still wait for the day you’ll burst out the door and tell us to hit the road again. I still watch every episode of your dumb tv shows to make sure I’ll know everything that happened when you ask. I still drive around in your car and close my eyes when the street is calm, only picturing you driving as Baby’s engineers go wild but those are my hands on the steering wheel. If I didn't know better, I’d think you are still around. But I know better. I still feel you all around. I love you.’’

Your monologuing ends as astutely as it stated. You get up, press a kiss to your ruined for the next weeks hands and place it on the rock with writings. You turn around and walk back to the car that you parked near, only in case of Dean wanting to see Baby. How knows? You and your clandestine faith. You lick your lip and get in the car.

You swear you the AC/DC cassette wasn't there before, but when you turn on the car and the radio it starts playing. It's the first true smile that comes to your mouth, it's bloodstained and you look like a shameless woman. With that you can deal.

It hurts a bearable hurt for now. You didn't think it was possible. Maybe someday.

The end.

(she takes a little longer to arive in heaven than sammy. his baby brother says that women are most likely to live around six years more than men. it doesn't ease him up, though. dean waited sam for too long, his platonic soulmate. and now he has to wait his romantic one too? the eldest Winchester considers it the best earthly present when the he sense you around, that smell of orange and apples. it's you, he knows before even turning around. he can't wait to love you again. your name rolls off your tongue so naturally, as if you had seen each other just yesterday: ‘’hey, y/n.’’)

But then again, nothing ever really ends, does it?

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Starburst's footnote: It just didn't feel right to make an author's note on the top. I wanted it all only to be an arrow to the story. So, this is my side note: it's six am and I'm up writing this after inspiration kissed me with a bruise in the middle of the night. Or more like grabbed my throat. Anyway, I had to write and finish this one to post today, even pushing sleep aside. Hey, we are writers, that's what we do! I've been watching the show since I was eleven and I cried like a baby with the finale. This series was just so important and crucial to molde aspects of relationships for me. The song marjorie by Taylor Swift was used here, and so was the line "you got my devotion/ but man, I can hate you sometimes" by Harry Styles. I told you guys I would use it somewhere! A special thanks to @msmarvelouswinchester​ who helped me with her encouraging and opinon. You are the best! And with all of this I wanna say: Happy bday, Dean Winchester!

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