mr-krabs-lover-4ever

[quietwingsinthesky]

prev post I don’t want to bother op with this but. that is why s5 lucifer is so good too.

[dxy-drxxm]

SYNOPSIS: Lyney never feared the sight of the tank, but his "Father" changed that for him. (gen. neutral reader) [ IDENTITYV AU ]

CW/s: Drowning (or almost drowning), ooc Lyney? (he's shaken up oops), depiction of Knave! Lyney/Harbinger! Lyney, near death scenario, reader gets hurt in helping survivor! Lyney (part 2 of 3)

The familiar thumping of one's heart was something Lyney is quite used to. To him, as a magician, he would only have those when performing tricks that are impossible— only for them to work as the audience began to shower him with praise.

As an illusionist, he knew well that miracles are akin to magic tricks. That is what he was raised to believe, but outside of his job, there are things far more cruel than he may say.

So when he felt himself getting dunked into the tank his sister used in one of their shows, he felt the air leave him as he was put inside.

He banged on the glass as he saw his Father? leave, the illusion fading into a sight he can discern. He thought it was her?, but the familiar coat and attire betrayed his expectation.

It was… Himself?

�� As the Knave.

He felt his eyes widened. Was this suppose to be him?

If Father gets replaced or dies, will he become like this?

The hunter turned his head to see the stunned illusionist, water pouring down to fill up the tank. And for a sheer glance alone, he could see him mouth the following words that shocked his core.

And then, he left.

His siblings are far from where he was chaired. And Heaven forbid will he let them rescue him like this.

The water is filling up to his knees.

Was this the end? He couldn't tell anymore.

After all, he knew he can turn the fates in his favor. He knew that, he was a magician! And by God will he just stop because he's stuck in a water tank!

As he felt his legs grow damp, he began to do anything in his power to get out. He tried to push the lid, perhaps use his own tricks to disappear from the tank.

He wanted to get out of this blasted tank. He was growing desperate.

At times like these, he wished he had his vision on his person.

But alas, no such luck.

His efforts rendered futile, and his desperation gnawed at him alive.

...

It's rising to his waist.

...

He wanted to crumble.

He couldn't hear the faint calling of a familiar voice— and a yelp from the hit by the grim-malkin cat. The one he had from his tricks.

He can vaguely recall how some of his tricks failed. How he and Lynette endured to get a sliver of fame, to even get a chance to perform.

This was one of those times.

He knew this moment awfully well. And the familiar despair began to get to his head.

...

It's rising to his chest.

...

Was this it? Is this the end of the road?

It can't be. I can't die here. I can't.

I can't stop here— why can't I do something? Why is there no exits here?

I can't simply drown in this tank and disappear. I don't want to disappear!

No, no, no—

Please, I need to see my sister again. I need to see my siblings again.

I refuse to sit here, and yet...

... I don't know what to do.

Can I even escape from this glass prison?

Can I escape the same prison I've been destined to be trapped in?

...

Then, it rises to his neck.

…

...

…

The seal of the tank opens.

Two hands grabs him, and with one full swoop, the playwright pulls the illusionist out as a way to rescue him.

Lyney was stunned when he felt the water leave him, and albeit he is dripping, he could smell the scent of parchment and ashes.

(Name).

"Are you okay, Lyney?" he heard them asked, watching as the tank closes but the water level remains the same. "Here," they added, handing him a syringe that they retrieved from the chests.

Am I okay?

"Come on, let's go—"

They yelped and went down as the hunter— himself— loomed over them, sighing.

"Oh, my dear poupée, you should've learned not to turn your back on a hunter!" his hunter identity said, but the playwright turned to wince and glare at him.

"Hah— and you should learn not to be so cocky."

Then, the sirens blared. And detention got ahold of the Knave.

With adrenaline, they shoved the now coherent illusionist.

"Run!" you yelled, grabbing his wrist and pulling him with them out of the big tent. "Detention will last in 2 minutes— and we'll both die if we get caught by him!"

And as soon as the two of you fled, the survivors could hear the ever familiar yet chilling laugh as the Knave is in pursuit of his showstopper.

No man will be left alive.

Not on his watch.

@.enxgmx-wrxtxr | do not republish, repost, or copy my works anywhere | 2023

[hazel-of-sodor]

So small headcanon: Gordon keeps accidentally adopting pacifics. He's the oldest one in Britain (since the Great Bear was rebuilt into a 4-6-0 anyway) and they all look to him at the first. The A1/3s at first all looked to him as the big brother they loved to tease...until modernization. Suddenly their days were numbered, but he was safe on Sodor. They all agreed to not tell him, to spare him as long as they could. Gordon would learn in late 1967 that he and Flying Scotsman were the last of their siblings left, having never had the chance to say goodbye to any of the others.

When Great Northern escaped to Sodor in 68, D5701 was part of the team set to retrieve the escaped pacific. Gordon did not take kindly to the class 28's attempt to lung at his little sister, and bashed the diesel backwards. It would be discovered several months later that he had hit D5701 hard enough to cause a crack in the diesel's frames, leading to the engine's withdrawal.

Over the next decade, it would be revealed several of the A3's had escaped the cutter's torch, and their big brother would move heaven and earth to keep it that way.this culminated in late 1979, when Gordon and North Western's numbers 2, 3, and 5 stormed a British Railways owned scrapyard to save 60066 Merry Hampton, who had been discovered forgotten in a siding. While BR officials had tried to prevent 60066's rescue, they quickly found that they were no match for a furious locomotive.

Following this incident, BR put out a notice that any LNER Pacifics found were to be dumped in the NWR yard at Barrow in Furness for the safety of their workers.

But what of other Pacific's?

The first Pacific Gordon adopted was Battle of Britain 34090. Gordon met the bullied pacific during the 1949 exchange trials when she was new from the factory. He would take the young Pacific under his wing, and teach her the ins and outs of express work, as well as what he knew of goods work. By the end of the trials, he considered Rebecca his little sister. In 1967, following his discovery of the loss of his siblings, the North Western purchased 34090, and Gordon would collect her personally.

Later that year, Peppercorn A2 60532 Blue Peter, would visit Sodor. Gordon welcomed the fellow LNER pacific as his sister, even offering the Peppercorn a chance to haul Wild Nor'Wester, even though it meant he had to pull goods trains for the day.

Gordon was already cordial with his A4 cousins, but following 1967, he made concerted efforts to bond with his remaining LNER family. 2509 Spencer, Sir Robert Noramby's private engine, would become a dear confidant for Gordon over the years.

In the 1950s, LMS 6202 had been purchased by the NWR. A steam turbine, Gordon had known her from his rebuild at Crewe. They had been friendly, but their schedules had kept them from becoming closer. Gordon would request chances to run with her in 1968, in order to get to know her better.

The dying days of steam saw the Britannia class siblings Ariel, Arrow, and Lightning come to the Island. They were awed to be working with the first (successful) British pacific. Gordon saw their grief at the loss of their siblings. When Scotsman visited the NWR in the lead up to his American tour, Gordon, Great Northern, and Scotsman, they offered the Britannia's chance to join their little family. Pacific's had to stay together.

[nightingaletrash]

An Evening Meal

Writing is pain but I damn well finished it 😤

--

It wasn’t often that Logan joined the others in the dining hall for meals. He knew that his presence was unwanted, that all but Page had demanded his death, and the pointed glares and scathing remarks were more than enough to put him off his food. So more often than not, he took his meals in his room and made an effort to stay out of the way of the rest of the council whenever possible. It just made life that little bit more tolerable for all of them.

Well, not quite everyone obviously.

On this particular evening, Lorna had insisted that Logan join the rest of them for dinner and she'd refused to take no for an answer. And when he’d arrived, having finally relented and agreed for her sake, it was clear that she’d had a word with the others.

He was keenly aware that Lorna’s friends and advisors were determinedly not looking at him and were taking great pains to avoid addressing or mentioning him. Instead they talked amongst themselves, discussing the day’s work or regaling one another with stories of their adventures as they indulged in a fine wine imported from Samarkand.

Judging by the flush of Sabine’s cheeks and the way he jumped up onto his chair with his staff raised aloft, the Dweller had gone a little beyond a small indulgence.

“And then, with thunderous cries that shook the heavens themselves, we brought down our axes on the troll’s monstrous head! Its mantle split, its blood spilt forth, and we Dwellers rid ourselves and our land of its insidious poisons!” he declared with a surprising boom. For such a small man, he had a very impressive set of lungs.

And a very impressive talent for embellishment, Logan thought to himself, considering that the victory hadn’t been the work of the Dwellers alone. But he said nothing and tried to focus on his food. He’d let the old man have his stories and glory. There was no need for him to bring any attention to himself.

“I remember that story a little differently,” Lorna chuckled, as if she’d read his mind. At least she kept her voice low and between herself and Logan. “I thought it was your hammer that split the troll’s head open, and that the Dwellers’ axes were busy with its nerve tendrils.”

Logan shrugged indifferently.

“I don’t see that it makes a difference. Sabine is welcome to tell his stories as he wishes.”

He was aware that her gaze lingered on him a moment before turning back to the conversation further down the table. The big Dweller - Boulder - was busy guiding the tipsy Sabine back into his seat just as Ben Finn leapt into his own tale.

“So one minute Private Jammy and I are walking our daring Rebel Princess through the use of the mortar. The next, a legion of Hollowmen are erupting from the ground, ready to charge the gates-!”

“Avo’s sake, Ben, give it a rest,” Page huffed. “No one cares whether you managed to kill three hollowmen with one shot or not.”

“But it really did happen!” he protested, his brows knitting together. Then he pointed an accusing finger at her and said, “you just don’t believe it because you didn’t even believe in hollowmen until you went to Reaver’s little Masquerade party, and now you don’t want to admit that I’m telling the truth!”

“I don’t believe it because you were probably too busy nattering at them to actually do any shooting.”

Logan observed the bickering pair briefly - he took faint amusement at the indignant look of offense on Ben’s face - then turned back to his sister, who was watching the small spectacle unfold with a small smile that was somewhat unreadable.

She’d aged since that day in the throne room. She’d lost some of the softness that rounded her cheeks, and while her eyes weren’t quite hardened, they’d lost their innocent glimmer. She’d also sprouted upwards a few inches, leaving her just shy of his own height. But what drew his attention were the scars on her face.

Suddenly, as if he was possessed by some old repressed childish instinct, he reached over and flicked her in the nose.

Lorna squeaked - actually squeaked - in surprise, swatted his hand away and stared at him like he’d just grown a second head.

Heads swivelled in their direction. Ben and Page’s spirited debate was abruptly cut off and Saker was halfway out of his seat before Lieutenant Attaway’s hand gripped his forearm and a pointed look sent him sinking back down apprehensively.

Logan felt his face heat up at the sudden scrutiny.

What in the Light’s name had possessed him to do that? He briefly entertained the notion of trying to will himself to fade from sight or to sink through his chair into the floor, but as ever, he remained in full view and firmly in his seat. So he tried to act as though he’d not just reached out and flicked his sister, the Queen, in the face like a child might.

Sabine and Kalin just watched with mild interest, and Walter stared for a moment, then chortled.

“No pestering each other at the table,” he said, as if they were still small children and in need of reminding, before he turned away. “I hear that Page’s people were able to track down your missing shipments, Kalin.”

“Hm? Oh yes. The young man, Kidd I believe? Was able to locate the thieves and reclaim them for us,” she replied, catching on quickly and inclining her head towards Page. “It would please me if he were to receive my most heartfelt thanks.”

Page affirmed that she’d pass on the message, and the conversation resumed, though Walter gave the siblings one last heartfelt grin before turning away and leaving them to their own discussion.

Logan made a note in the back of his mind to make up the last four years to Walter for his smooth redirection of the conversation before things got even more awkward.

“What was that for?” Lorna giggled, even though it was clear that she was utterly perplexed. “You haven’t flicked me since I was nine.”

Logan shrugged, still wishing he could vanish on the spot. Still no luck, and he wasn’t going to get away with such a plainly uncharacteristic act in the middle of dinner. So he vainly willed some of the pinkness from his cheeks and turned to his sister.

“There was something on your nose,” he said matter-of-factly. “You never did tell me where you got those scars.”

There were two. An arched cut over the bridge of her nose that hadn’t quite healed right, leaving a slight ridge of raised tissue along the bottom edge of the scar. The second was a perfect mirror of his own; a deep, thin line gouged through her lip as if drawn by a claw, though her’s was on the opposite side to his.

That was the scar that she self-consciously rubbed her thumb over.

“Well this one was a gift from Saker,” she said after a brief pause, tapping the side of her nose to indicate the arched mark. “He punched me in the face during our fight.”

“And the other?”

As expected, she hesitated to answer and her thumb traced over the mark once more, the side of her nail dragging through the narrow groove. He knew all too well where it had come from, but he needed to hear her say it before he could truly accept that she had encountered that thing too.

“Crawler,” she whispered. “It said something about ‘one to match the other.’ At the time, I thought it was talking about this one-" she tapped her nose again "-but I guess it was talking about you.”

The corner of his mouth itched, but he resisted the urge to rub it.

Every time he closed his eyes at night, he could taste blood in his mouth and hear the Crawler’s cackling as it dragged a wicked claw over his lips, marking him forever as one of its playthings. He’d wake up in a cold sweat and have to run his thumb over his mouth to ground himself, to reassure himself that he was not bleeding and that he was far from Crawler’s grasp… for the moment, at least.

He wondered, briefly, if Lorna had similar nightmares. The dark circles around her eyes were telling enough. It was little wonder that she applied makeup whenever she left the castle or attended court. Anything to keep her people from suspecting that their Queen was struggling with her burden.

"I suppose it must have been," was his reply. "Unless getting a scar from Saker of all people was somehow one of your worst memories."

The touch of sarcasm took the edge off of the conversation, and Lorna grinned in spite of herself.

"At least I didn't get one from falling down the stairs when I was six," she jabbed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Logan replied airily, though the corner of his lips twitched ever so slightly upwards. "Especially when one considers that you weren't even alive back then."

"Jasper would never lie about something like that," she shot back smugly. "He said that you were inconsolable for over an hour."

"Jasper was mad even back then."

"People don't go senile in their early fifties, Logan."

"I said 'mad' not 'senile'. Sane people don't look at an advertisement that insists that a butler must be prepared for daily occurrences of violence and decide 'ah yes, that sounds like the perfect job for me'."

That was a story that their mother had simply loved to tell. Apparently Jasper was the only applicant she had received after her first butler's prompt resignation, which had resulted from a sudden and unexpected bandit attack, and when he'd proven more than capable of running her household and dealing with intruders - where he'd learned to handle live explosives, he'd never say - she kept him on, and he'd served her and her family ever since.

Most butlers had better self-preservation instincts.

Lorna simply grinned though, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

"Careful Logan. He can hear everything we say, remember?"

"Well of course I do," Logan said, rolling his eyes. "He was doing that long before he figured out how to work the Guild Seal."

"Right," she laughed. "Remember that time we planned to leave earwigs under the pillow of that diplomat from Samarkand?"

"I still have no idea how he found out about that," Logan chuckled, shaking his head.

"Because he hears all, sees all and knows all." She paused, then nodded her head with a faux look of grim determination. "When this is all over, I shall see to it that there is a temple dedicated to Jasper."

"He deserves it. He's put up with the two of us for all these years."

It would be upon later reflection that the ease of the back and forth would surprise Logan. He and his sister hadn't bantered so casually in years. Not since Aurora. He'd certainly not indulged in the nostalgia of his youthful antics like this, not when so much had been resting on his shoulders.

And yet, for just a while, it was as if nothing had changed. They continued to chat over their dinner, completely ignorant to the conversation and sideways glances from further down the table.

Maybe, he thought to himself after they had all dispersed for the evening, he would take his meals in the dining room more often.

[nymphigeon]

Roses Have Thorns

♡ Pairing; Jungkook x Reader

♡ Genre; Angst, Fluff, Fantasy!AU, Supernatural!AU, S2L, Student!Jungkook, Wizard!Jungkook, Angel!Reader, Demon!Reader, Student!Reader

♡ Warnings (for this chapter); Panick attack

♡ Rating; NC-17

♡ Words; 2950

♡ Summary; A girl forced to live in fear because of her own power. Even though she isn’t supposed to exist, she wants to live. She’ll just make sure that she breaks herself over and over until there is nothing left of her. He, of course, won’t let her.

♡  A/N; Sorry it took me so long... T_T

Series masterlist

Chapter Two Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Jungkook waits, and then waits some more. Nothing happens. There’s no huge fiery impact, no one is currently screaming their lungs out in agony and it is actually rather cold. The previously bustling street full of people seems to have become completely deserted in a mere few minutes. Apart from a gust of wind now and then, nothing happens.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” A beautiful voice reaches his ears, a sugary scent accompanies the pleasant sound. For a moment Jungkook wonders if he died and ended up going to heaven. Surely only an angel could have such a soothing voice? Or maybe he went straight down to hell instead, getting stuck with a mysterious siren.

“You can open your eyes now, the danger has passed.” If Jungkook has to describe their voice, he would say it reminds him of flower fields. The colourful ones with sweet smells all around. It calms him.

Deciding to trust the voice, Jungkook lets out all tension in a low sigh. The rate his heart is beating at slows down, his breathing following soon after. If he doesn’t listen, will they speak again? Is it strange for him to want to hear that soft sound once more?

Still, he slowly opens his eyes. A few steps away from him stands the owner of the voice. She isn’t looking at him, only showing her back. Her hair carefully follows the direction of the wind, a light glow present on the strands despite the sun not showing itself.

As the mysterious girl promised, all danger seems to have vanished. Nothing is on fire, nothing has been destroyed. Except for the absence of all the humans normally walking through, nothing has changed.

Sensing that Jungkook has opened his eyes, the girl turns around. A fancy mask covers her face, hiding everything except for the radiant colour of her eyes. The black mask in what looks to be the shape of Anubis’ head seems to be crafted out of a fine sleek material, adorned with little sparkling crystals along the outlines.

“I’m not sure why they’re targeting you…” As she speaks she takes calculated steps towards the still slightly frozen boy. “But I know they aren’t a group you should mess with.” Bending down, she picks up the plastic bag with groceries Jungkook dropped earlier, holding it out in front of her for him to grab. He makes sure not to touch her hands as he accepts the bag, scared that the silk laden fingers might burn him. Who is she?

“I-I..” So many questions and so little answers. Jungkook has no idea where to start, but he knows he has to find his voice. Everything is happening too fast.

“I didn’t do anything..” It would be surprising if she didn’t hear the way he swallowed, or the way his heart slowly picked up the pace in her presence. Jungkook has always prided himself in being rather fearless, and although that was before he almost met death himself, he can’t help but be a little embarrassed.

“It’s okay, I believe you.” She smiles, even though he can barely see it. “Stay out of trouble okay?” Raising her hand, she slowly waves at him, turning around while she walks back to the ground she previously stood on. “Wait!”

Jungkook is surprised at his actions, but there is no turning back now. He reaches out to her as if to grab her, his hand however only meets air. She doesn’t wait. When Jungkook opens his eyes after a blink, she is gone. Regret creeps up his back. He never got the chance to thank her.

The ringing of his phone brings him out of the self-deprecating spiral he got stuck in. Without looking at the name of the caller, he picks up. “Jungkook! Are you okay?! Where are you? You’re not hurt right? Do I need to come get you?” Namjoon rambles on as soon as Jungkook answers the phone, not really giving him time to actually answer any of the questions.

“I heard there was an attack near the grocery store. Should I call an ambulance? Police? Are you dyi-” “Joon, I’m fine.” Jungkook interrupts him. “I’m not hurt at all, I’m on my way home.” Jungkook can hear Namjoon sigh in relief. “Stay inside, I’ll be there soon.” Jungkook hangs up after, knowing the other will start rapidly throwing sentences his way again as soon as he gets the chance to speak.

Determined to not make the same mistake twice in a row, he quickly texts Namjoon a ‘Thank you for worrying’ before returning the phone to its original place. The bag filled with food feels heavy in his right hand. Jungkook definitely isn’t going back to get that eggplant now.

“Where have you been?” Haeun questions as soon as you come through the door. Her arms are crossed, her facial expression neutral. It’s almost like she was waiting for your return. “Does it matter?” You don’t look at her as you take off your shoes, long having gotten used to her behaviour.

“Would I be asking if it didn’t?” She taps her foot on the ground in annoyance. “Makes me wonder what you’re trying to hide.” Tired of leaning against the wall, Haeun closes the distance between you two ever so slightly. Not to intimidate, but to figure out. Maybe both.

“What are you trying to protect dear sister?”

Even while looking the opposite way, it’s not hard to miss the smirk on her face, amusement clearly evident in her voice. Teasingly she searches for your eyes, circling around like you’re the prey she just can’t let go of. A predator’s gaze rests upon you, burning through the barrier you set up in between.

“Where I’ve been, what I’ve been doing, it’s none of your concern. Please just leave me alone.”

With that you escape past her, not sure how much longer it will take before her treating gaze gets to you. Getting to your room is the goal, preferably without her presence following you around.

“You won’t gain anything by being secretive.” There is nothing to be hidden, nothing to be uncovered. Though your older sibling has always been leaning more towards the creepy dark side, she can be of no harm to you. At least, as long as you didn’t want her to be.

“Maybe not. That too, doesn’t concern you.” No more words float through the air after that. You turn the first corner after getting up the long flight of stairs, hoping to lose her attention for you. It seems to work as the sound of her walking gets further and further away.

Each and every time it was like this. Never straying away from that awkward strangers phase. If only she would treat you like her younger sister. If only she wouldn’t turn those cold eyes on you each time, perhaps the two of you could’ve been friends. If only.

Upon entering your room you immediately fall unto your bed, the action causing a loud dull sound to echo throughout the room. It’s always been too big for simply one person, the bed, the room. From the moment you were born, the next bedroom always had to be bigger than the last. Though, not because you wished for it to be that way. The real reason was always left from your ears.

Out of your pocket the soft melody of a notification sounds. It hasn’t changed since your 16th birthday. Nothing has changed since your 16th birthday.

‘I’m sure you heard the news already. I’m glad Haeun reported your safe return home, I got worried about your wellbeing. No details are out yet, so please be careful. They might return sooner than you think. I love you.’

The message makes you smile. Despite being the youngest at home, your dad never worried about your ability to take care of yourself. Since haven proven yourself to him a long time ago, he was never overly worried. Your mother wasn’t exactly the same.

Your parents have never been home a lot, always out and about for reasons you weren’t all that interested in. Business has never been your major of preference. As one of the few powerful individuals of society, both your mother and father had lots of work to do. Your mom having just a little bit more work than the man she married.

‘I’m fine, don’t worry. I hope you’re being careful too.’

After texting back you let your phone fall next to you. You need a hot shower to clear your mind.

It had taken Jungkook a lot longer to get home than normally. Despite him calming down considerably, his legs wouldn’t stop shaking. Even getting the key to fit in the lock took more effort, his hands refusing to stay still.

The key rapidly ticking against the metal door handle must’ve alerted the person still inside. Before Jungkook can insert the piece of metal, the door flings open, almost hitting him in the head. If it wasn’t for the leftover adrenalin giving his reflexes a much needed boost, it would’ve actually struck.

He doesn’t even get the chance to step inside before a familiar body flings itself at him. “Thank god you’re okay.” Namjoon sounds like he is about to cry, his worried state awfully clear. For a few seconds Jungkook just stand there, not being used to Namjoon showing that much physical affection. He however is quick to return the hug when his brain as made sense of the situation.

“Let’s get inside okay?” Jungkook pats his back and pulls away from the older boy, speed walking inside to drop the overfilled bag on the dinner table. Those can be put away later, when the remaining traces of adrenalin running through his veins have lost their effect. That might take a while.

Namjoon, who had quickly closed the front door behind him, pulls out a chair to sit on, motioning for Jungkook to do the same next to him. As soon as both of them are comfortably seated, Namjoon decides to talk. “So, what happened exactly?”

It takes a while for Jungkook to form a coherent response. Despite the fact that only 20 minutes have passed since the incident, his memory is foggy. “Just… People started screaming all of a sudden. Everyone was running in the same direction, away from whatever threat was rapidly approaching. I looked up and right there was a massive ball of flames heading in my direction.”  The sight he witnessed at that moment still managers to send shivers down his spine. Never before had he been that close to dying.

Jungkook takes in a few breaths to calm himself down. It’s okay now, he’s safe. At least, he hopes. “I didn’t know what to do, while my mind was screaming at me to run, my whole body just wouldn’t cooperate. Before I knew it, it was too late to run. All I could do was wait for it to hit, which it, as you can see, never did. When I opened my eyes everyone was gone.”

“So they just retreated like that?” Namjoon’s face shows his confusion. It doesn’t make sense, though Jungkook still nods. He doesn’t have any other explanation. “I don’t know what happened. One moment they were there and the next they had completely disappeared.”

He feels dizzy, something isn’t right. “Jungkook, you said it was a fire attack right? The sender can’t just stop those once fired. The only way is to create a barrier in front of the fire, which requires a lot of skill. Too late and your attack has already hit it’s target, too early and it might backfire right into yourself. Besides that there’s also the strength and the type of the barrier…” Namjoon sighs, realizing there is too much to this to properly explain right now. “In short, even the most well-practiced get it wrong all the time. You would’ve definitely noticed had they tried something like this.”

Jungkook trusted Namjoon, he really did. Namjoon has always been the one with all the facts, no matter the subject. So then why was it so hard to believe him right now? Jungkook didn’t see anything, didn’t hear anything and surely didn’t feel anything.

“If it wasn’t for the news reporting the attack I would’ve thought you had been hallucinating.” It’s not weird for people to forget details after traumatic events, Jungkook is well aware. Though the story in his head seems logical, it obviously isn’t. What is missing however, Jungkook doesn’t know.

“Did nobody see what happened?” It’s the only hope he has. The only way he’s going to get any answers.

“There’s no footage. Before the news crew could arrive everything had already ended. As it seems right now nobody has recorded the event either and since the attack took place in the sky security camera’s probably haven’t captured anything except for a bunch of people running. You were the only one who wasn’t running. I assume it won’t be long before the police contact you.”

Despite the increasing dizziness he’s experiencing, Jungkook manages to put on a sheepish smile. He knows Namjoon doesn’t mean any harm, but the statement does hurt his pride a bit. The smile doesn’t stay long, the unease takes over.

Nothing makes sense. Nothing about this whole story makes sense. Jungkook realizes he must have missed something. A vital piece of information. If it was so important, then how did he forget? What exactly happened?

He couldn’t have been alone, or rather, he definitely wasn’t alone. “Wait no, there was somebody else…” There was someone there. “Who was there?” Namjoon looks at Jungkook’s expression with worry. “Somebody else…” He can’t finish his sentence. There was someone there. “I-” He isn’t going crazy, or maybe he is. A slowly disappearing silhouette. Something happened, something must’ve definitely happened.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” Namjoon puts his hands on Jungkook’s shoulders, trying to shake him out of whatever spiralling thoughts he was stuck in. It doesn’t exactly work, as Jungkook keeps blankly staring into space.

“I-I need some rest.” Jungkook stands abruptly, nearly knocking over the chair he was seated on. The feelings that had calmed down slowly rise up again. Perhaps they did do something to him. Perhaps he might still die, falling over out of nowhere, succumbing to the curse put upon him.

Who was there? Jungkook almost sprints to his room and slams the door closed behind him. In the comfort of his own space, he lets himself go. The panic he never got to properly process returns. Heavy breaths escape, heat creeps up his back. He can’t remember anyone.

Screams, running, hot, blue, flaming, silence. The order doesn’t change, the information doesn’t change.

Sitting on the corner of his bed, Jungkook lets his head fall into his hands. He can’t focus anymore. Words repeat, scenarios bounce around, the room is spinning, his hands are sweating. The unwelcoming tells of needing to throw up introduce themselves. Jungkook tightly closes his eyes. He needs this to stop.

“Jungkook breathe! In and out, come on..” Namjoon’s voice sounds so far away. When he had arrived here Jungkook doesn’t know. The company isn’t unwelcomed, nor is it helpful.

Pulling his knees up to his chest, Jungkook tries to make himself as small as humanly possible. Had he truly been hallucinating? Each time he seems to recall something it slips through his fingers. There was someone else. Fragments of sentences exchanged distort, unclear.

The room is void of any oxygen, he can’t breathe. This is it, it’s the end, suffocated by his own thoughts. He wasn’t alone, and yet he was. He was alone, and yet he wasn’t. Is this his own fault? Was he cursed?

What if the attack was supposed to go this way? They never intended on killing him straight up, they wanted him to suffer. Slowly accepting the darkness surrounding him.

Jungkook’s eyes had long been closed when a loud crash was heard. “Jungkook! Please listen to-” It didn’t matter anymore, he would die anyway. Namjoon’s voice slowly drifts away, the beating of his own heart slowly dims. It’s all too loud, but way too quiet.

And then it’s dead silent.

A low humming can be heard in the distance. Accompanied by feather light footsteps, the sound comes closer, stopping right beside him. He loves the sound, wants to keep listening to it. And so he does.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.”

All of a sudden Jungkook realizes how exhausted he feels. Slowly he lets himself go, calming down in the safe environment filled with their voice. Before he can completely fall into the deep slumber luring him in, he decides to take one more deep breath.

“Sweet..”

Namjoon looks down at the sleeping boy on his shoulder. For the second time that day he lets out a relieved sigh. At last, the younger one felt at peace.

Carefully he moves Jungkook to lay on the bed instead and stands up to take cleaning supplies from another room. “Strong negative emotions must result in a significant loss of magic control..” Namjoon mumbles to himself, watching the different sized shards on the ground.

As he opens the door to exit the room, he looks back at the smiling sleeping boy on the bed. Reflecting his friend, Namjoon takes on a smile of his own. Today had brought a rollercoaster of emotions to them both. Ending like this was probably the best possible outcome.

“Are you having good dreams?” It’s whispered into the awaiting air. The only reply given is Jungkook slowly curling into himself, clearly happy with the flower field he ended up in.

[arsonistslut]

Chapter 9: Reminders of Tragedy

"Hey, Jane!"

"Hey, Ingrid! How is my favorite person in the world?"

Jane's girlfriend of a good 9 years now happily walked over and kissed her on the cheek, beaming as she always seemed to do whenever she looked at her lover.

"Amazing now that you're here. Hey, you wanna go to that party Randy's having at his house tomorrow?"

"He's having a party? I didn't figure him the partying type."

"Despite the whole business parents thing, he is a real party animal. Hey, you know what's weird about the party?"

"What is?"

"He invited that Jeff guy there..y'know, that creep with the Conduct Disorder?"

She gestured to the tall, dark clothed young adult that sat alone at a lunch table nearby, playing with a switchblade.

"Hey, I remember him being pretty nice.."

"Remember him? You two date at some point?"

"We did, actually, wayyyy back."

Jane smirked when she saw the look of surprise and pride on Ingrid's face when she realized she guessed right.

"What was he like?"

"He was a sweetheart. Cheesy, but a sweetheart. Hell, even cheesier than me."

"Jane, you've carved our names into multiple trees. There's no out-cheesing that."

"Oh, you wouldn't believe how we met, either. My dad was out mowing the lawn, and he accidentally ran over a rock and it hit Jeff in the head."

"Oof, that sounds bad.."

"I visited him in the hospital with my parents one time, and I will never forget what he said to me as a pick-up line."

"What did he say?"

Jane cleared her throat, before trying her darndest to do an impression of a young Jeff.

"Did you come from heaven? Because you look like an angel!"

Ingrid couldn't help but let out a giggle as she quickly pulled Jane into her arms.

"Aww, that sounds so cute!"

"It was!"

Jeff himself was hearing this conversation from afar, the little tricks he played with his knife not an adequate distraction from the constant reminder of what could've been.

"I don't think he handled our breakup too well..nobody really wanted to treat him as anything other than a freak after his diagnosis went public. One time, I heard him ranting to his brother about how it was hypocritical of the school to do a health topic on depression when they wouldn't stop judging him for his CD."

"Sheesh, it sounds like he's been through a lot..poor kid could use a friend."

"It doesn't really look like he wants any. Liu isn't sitting with him..that's weird, Liu always sits with him."

"Prolly had an argument or something, you know siblings."

"Yeah.."

The day continued without incident, Jeffrey getting home at the same time as usual..yet his mind was not thinking about the party, or school, he was thinking about Jane and Ingrid. Why was Jane so special that she had everything she wanted in life and not him? What crime did he commit that landed him with absent parents, demonization from his peers, and a fucking smile cut into his face? That love, that relationship they had..Jeff came to the conclusion that it was something to be destroyed.

Liu, meanwhile, was..struggling with something. Something he never expected would be a problem in his life. Lately, he began having these thoughts..these violent, awful, intrusive thoughts, thoughts that seemed to be begging to be spoken aloud, the actions they describe seeming to grow more and more appealing as time passed.

Kill Randy.

Maim Keith.

Skin Troy like the cattle he is.

Maybe if he gave the thoughts an identity, they'd be easier to handle, he thought as he thought of a name for these urges..one stood out from the others. Not at all goofy, but not as laughably edgy as the other options.

Chapter 10: Enter Sully

Liu ended up speaking to Sully for the entire night..and even into the morning. When Jeff woke up the next morning, he could already hear Liu downstairs talking with..someone.

"It's sad, really..so concerned about themselves..no time spared for you."

"I-I guess..but they've got more important things to worry about.."

"Child, they do not have a thought in them about you. They're all self centered egomaniacs that would rather get pushed around by a genetic failure of a human rather than do anything about their situation!"

"That's not true, Sully! You're lying!"

A horrible growl soon came from the room.

"We are friends, child! Friends do not lie to each other, do they?"

"I..I guess not..goodbye for now, Sully."

"Where are you going?"

"I..I need some time to think."

Liu got back up, jumping from fear when he saw his brother staring at him.

"Holy shit, Jeff! You scared me!"

"I bet."

Awkward silence soon filled the dining room where they stood.

"Hey, Jeff...?"

"What?"

"I'm..sorry about punching you, and saying all that shit about you. I shouldn't have done that."

"No shit, Sherlock."

The elder brother turned around and began walking back up to his room, but not before his brother called out to him.

"Hey..is there any way I could make things up between us?"

"You could make things up by not betraying my trust again. You're all I've got, Liu..don't pull a Jane and fuck it up for me."

Liu always did question that grudge Jeff held for his ex, after all, he chatted with her in the past, and it always seemed like she genuinely enjoyed what her and Jeff had, and she always felt bad for leaving him like that. Hell, it sounded like it was as painful for her to leave him as it was for him to find out that his girlfriend left him. He was tempted to point that out, but he feared ruining things with his brother again.

"Alright.."

Chapter 11: A Hell of A Party

When Jane and Ingrid rounded the corner home, they found..a disturbing sight. A dead raccoon laying in the middle of the street, it's guts ripped out of it's body and thrown aside, Jeff gleefully pawing through the freshly murdered animal, childishly gawking and giggling over the corpse.

"Hey, Jeffrey! What happened here, what the fuck did you do?!"

Ingrid cried out to the blood-soaked kid, who looked up at her, confusion riddling his bloodied face.

"I killed a raccoon. It's not like anyone's gonna miss it."

"Why, you little-"

Ingrid slapped Jeffrey right across the face, knocking him to the ground as Jane held her girlfriend back and tried to keep the situation from escalating any further.

"What the hell was that for?!"

"You killed a helpless animal, you freak!!"

"I oughta kill you next, you piece of-"

Woods choked on his own spittle as he made his threat, never having been particularly..elegant with his words.

"Oh, really?! I'll kick your teeth down your fucking throat!"

"I swear to God, I'll strangle you with your own fucking intestines!!"

When Jeff reached for his switchblade, Jane panicked and grabbed her lover's hand, running off with her as Woods continued to scream at them.

"Your last words better be some Mark Twain shit, because it's going on your tombstone!! You hear me?!"

That experience was all on Jane's mind as she watched Jeff steadily get more and more wasted by the bonfire outside as time went on, at least, what glimpses she could catch of him when she wasn't busy dancing with the other students. Randy was also outside, reluctantly playing Truth Or Dare with the others as well as his increasingly hot and bothered enemy.

"Ok, Jeff!"

"Whaddup, baby?~"

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare, hit me with the worst ya got!"

"Slow dance with Randy."

"What the-no! I'm straight as a arrow, dude!"

"So is spaghetti until it gets wet~"

"Jeff, never say that again."

"C'mooooon, do the dare, ya pussy~ I don't bite!~"

Woods took his time getting up, but still had enough cognitive function to put on Grover Washington Jr's "Just The Two Of Us", to try and improve the mood, but Randy still wasn't having any of it. In a last ditch effort to try and seduce Randy, Jeffrey just..up and took his shirt off. That'll get things going, right? No, it didn't. Despite some swooning from some of his classmates, Randy himself didn't want any part of this. He was a few drinks deep as well, so in a drunken haze, he grabbed one of the bottles of booze they had, took a running start, and smashed it right over Jeff's head. The problem with that is that they were only a couple feet away from a bonfire, so when Jeff stumbled backward, he fell right into it, the alcohol on his exposed flesh quickly igniting. He quickly burst into flames, screaming and running off as the fire quickly seared his body, every remaining nerve ending he had that wasn't burnt away shocking his body with waves of pain. He could feel his scalp burning up once his hair was scorched away, finally finding solace in a nearby puddle that put out the flames. Jeff could see his life flashing before his eyes..his family, his brother..that was all he could see. As Randy and the other students' screams of horror faded away, Woods silently cursed himself for not doing anything more with his life..a single bloody tear rolled down his face as he shut his eyes for what he believed would be the last time.

Chapter 12: The End Of The Beginning

Suddenly..he was in some sort of void. The ground beneath him was black as pitch, and footsteps began to grow ever closer to him. When Jeff looked to see who was approaching, he found no earthly being waiting for his attention. When he laid his eyes on whatever approached, the previously totally dark void began to turn a sickly red. What stood before him was a monster unlike any other, an otherwordly monster many believed to be a mere tall tale.

HE COMES.

[mischiefandspirits]

Colony of Gotham (3/7)

The Colony of Gotham is an urban legend that is whispered about in the dangerous city. It’s said the Colony is a family of demons and spirits that stalk the night, hunting for the souls of the guilty.

When Bruce became Batman, he’d never intended to be mistaken for a demon. He was happy to lean into it, though, and as he gained his partners – as his family grew – they all followed suit.

First Part ~ Previous Part ~ Next Part

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Duke Thomas lost his parents when Joker unleashed a new version of Joker Venom onto a crowd. While most of the infected were rounded up to be cured, some disappeared, Duke’s parents among them. The boy was determined to find them, no matter what it took, which landed him in trouble with both his foster parents and the law. Even when he was labeled a delinquent, though, he continued to search.

Meanwhile, a similar search came to its end.

Harper Row’s hunting had eventually led to her crossing paths with Batman. Despite her fear, she refused to back down under his warnings until her brother Cullen was attacked by some of his classmates while she was away on one of her searches.

Bruce, having been keeping an eye on the woman, stepped in to ensure they got justice for the attack and, in the process, helped her get custody of Cullen so they could both be free of their abusive father. In the face of all these changes and with Batman’s promise to find the other killer, Harper agreed to stand down.

However, Cass would find him first by taking a bullet for him after her father sent men to attack Harper and Cullen to draw her out.

Having expected a monster like Orphan, not this small child who stared up at her with the most apologetic eyes, Harper immediately forgave the girl and worked with Bruce and Batman to clear Cass’s name and take the girl under her wing. It was hard as Cass didn’t understand any language but body, but Harper and Cullen were willing to put in the work. In an effort to help, Bruce brought the Rows into the fold and promised any aid they could require.

Cullen was fascinated, but also happy to keep to the normal side of life. Bruce may have secretly wondered why the other children he found himself faced with couldn't be that level headed.

Harper, on the other hand, was more taken in, but also wary of getting too involved now that she had two people relying on her care. She went out sometimes in all black body armor with a full face mask and short hooded cloak, but she stayed out of sight enough that Black Bat remained an unknown myth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A trip to Los Angeles had Tim declaring he was never going with Bruce on business trips ever again. The first two days had been nice enough, but then Bruce caught him pulling an all-nighter working on a case that he wasn’t supposed to be working on and banned him from coffee.

Which was how a half-awake, phone focused Tim found himself nearly stepping out in front of traffic. Thankfully someone not dead on their feet spotted him in time and she pulled him back onto the sidewalk. He tried to laugh it off as just being too focused on his phone. That failed when he turned to walk away and almost immediately walked into a newspaper rack. The girl insisted on walking him to his hotel. When he pointed out he was going to pick up something from his father, she declared she’d walk him there and back.

When he returned back to Gotham with a new number in his phone, he refused to look her up. No, she was just some random civilian. He didn’t care if Wonder Girl doesn’t even wear a mask! Obviously that was her! A hoodie doesn’t help hide anything, Cassie! You and Kon are terrible! How do you two even have secret identities? At least Superman had those stupid glasses!

No, she was an ordinary civilian.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Duke Thomas’s search eventually ended when he teamed up with Batman to free his parents and the other missing Joker Venom victims from the Court of Owls, his photokinetic vision helping them navigate the labyrinthine tunnels. Unfortunately the Court’s experiments paired with going so long without the antidote had left the victims catatonic. Even still, Duke was so grateful that he did what he could to help Batman with his cases in the future.

Bruce, giving in to the inevitable even if he was wary to have a meta vigilante in Gotham, brought Duke into the Colony. There was some debate over how he’d fit in until Duke made it known that he would prefer getting some actual training before he went into the field for real.

This doesn’t stop Tim and Bette from glaring eachother down over who got to move on from Robin first.

Cass suggested settling it with a Mario Kart race.

Tim won.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One day Jinny “Hex” Woodson got fed up with all her friends discussing their Gotham friends -- ones she was pretty sure none of them were even allowed to have since no one was even supposed to go to Gotham -- so she packed a bag and headed out to find her own Gotham friend.

She decided the place was alright enough. It was actually kind of nice that no one questioned her for having a pair of pistols holstered on her hips. Someone even tried to mug her despite them.

It was hilarious.

She was having trouble finding her new Gotham friend, though. At least until a kid fell off a fire escape she’d been passing under and into her arms.

It was fate.

Apparently the kid had been trying to take a picture of a bird (aka Tim was scouting for a stakeout) and the railing hadn’t been quite as sturdy as he’d thought (it had only let him balance on it in a crouch for two hours before giving way). It was then that he noticed her guns.

“You’re not going to shoot me, right?”

“Angel, you’re so skinny, you can't even see your shadow. I don’t need my guns to whup you.”

“Angel?”

“Because you fell from heaven.”

Tim was not amused. He was even less amused when she declared they were friends now. No, he doesn’t get an opinion on the matter. Should have thought about that before throwing himself at unsuspecting women. She doesn’t even swing that way, Angel.

Around the same time that it hit the Young Justice team that they were all friends with the same Gothamite, it also hit the Colony that Tim had somehow managed to befriend the entire team.

Except no, Tim affirmed that they befriended him. He had no input in this whatsoever, thank you very much. It was probably Kon’s fault, really. He had probably set it all up. Tim was definitely going to give Kon the cold shoulder.

At least until his badgering got too annoying.

The worst part was that Stephanie stole his phone to get Cassie’s number when she found out she and Tim had been flirting. She stated it was so Stephanie could defend his honor if she tried something, but he caught both her and Bette in a group chat with not only Cassie, but Kara Danvers aka Supergirl and Suzanne “Cissie” King-Jones aka Arrowette.

Apparently, they didn’t get to be teased since the girls actively sought out their super friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Talia al Ghul personally informed her that the Heir to the Demon was now living with his biological father Bruce Wayne so she would be wise to keep her distance from Gotham, sister or not, Cheshire knew she’d made the right call keeping her nose out of the Waynes’ business.

It didn’t occur to her that when Talia al Ghul had met Bruce Wayne over ten years earlier at a party and decided to spend the night with him, the woman believed he’d given up his training to settle down for a life of luxury and frivolities. Cheshire didn’t know Ra’s had only allowed Talia to keep the child that had been an accidental result because he’d seen Bruce’s promise and believed, if raised properly, the child could become what he thought Bruce hadn’t.

That Talia had only brought her son to his father because she had no other choice.

The Demon’s Daughter fled to Gotham with Damian after her father was killed by Slade Wilson. She had hoped that between Bruce’s former training and the shadowy Colony of Gotham, Damian would be safe until Wilson could be dealt with.

Damian did not get along with his siblings. He made an attempt to pick a fight with Tim that failed when Tim refused to fight a child. Cass tried to fight him in Tim’s place, but Harper told her no. Damian tried to stab Dick when he hugged him and Dick disarmed him before he could without releasing the hug. He picked a fight with Jason and got his butt handed to him. Damian snuck out to prove himself, picked a fight with Nightwing, and got his butt kicked. Damian tried his hand with Tim again and the older boy, annoyed, agreed then used knockout gas on him the moment the fight began. Dick tried to talk with Damian and they ended up fighting. Damian, of course, got his butt kicked.

Stephanie was standing on the sidelines the entire time, encouraging everything.

Soon enough the Colony noticed Slade holed up near Gotham and launched an attack. Due to the danger, Bruce pulled in everyone, leaving the Robins and Alfred to keep an eye on Damian, Duke, Cullen, and Cass in the manor while Catwoman took guard outside. When Damian found out about the attack and tried to go after Slade, Tim sent him in the opposite direction then followed after him in the suit he’d been designing for post-Robin while the others took shelter in the cave.

Tim knocked Damian out and dragged him back to the cave where they locked him in a cell, to Bruce’s annoyance. Damian woke up and realized his father was Batman when he overheard Bruce reveal that Talia was likely coming back for Damian now that Slade was taken down. He also heard the family’s argument over it. None of them wanted him to go with her, but in the end they agreed that it was Damian’s choice.

When she did come, Damian remembered what the others said about him having a choice and some things about family Dick had said when the two had had their private conversation. He decided to stay with them, citing that there were things his father could teach him that he couldn’t learn while helping his mother rebuild the League.

She was obviously annoyed and disappointed, but didn’t fight him on it.

It wasn’t easy. Damian still fought with all his brothers as well as Stephanie, though Duke did his best to keep out of it. The youngest Wayne tried to challenge Tim and Bette for his place as Robin, but Dick and Bruce were able to get him to agree to training instead with the reminder that he was lacking the theatrical and teamwork skills that the Colony utilized and were mandatory as Robin.

Bruce didn’t mention that he wanted more reassurance the boy wouldn’t step over the line before ever letting him near the field.

Damian was not impressed when he discovered his father’s relationship with Selina Kyle and made it well known.

She thought it was adorable.

Damian would never admit that the kitten she gifted him was what calmed him. He simply didn’t see the point in wasting any energy on outwardly disliking the woman when his father clearly wouldn’t be changing his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Duke took Tim’s place as Robin, he made sure to keep his own contributions to the role quiet. Robin was a legacy while his meta abilities were not. Tim was not quite so subtle in his new role.

No one was sure where the name Corvid came from since the new bird didn’t speak in words, only trills. He wore an armored suit that was blue on the chest and arms and black on his sides with white detailing. His legs, hands, and feet were all black as well except for the blue splashes on the outside of his thighs. A white belt draped over his hips while black bandoliers crossed over his chest, a silver and black bird logo covering the cross. The bandoliers connected to his cowl, which was open at the top unlike the Bats’ which allowed his feather-like hair to fall down around his face. It was shoulder length and faded from black at the roots to blue at the tips, much like the wings that formed from his feathered cape.

They said he was a fallen star stolen away by the Colony. He soared soundlessly through the air on wings that never flapped, leaving behind a trail of blue light. He was more migratory than the others. Sometimes he flew above Batman and Robin, sometimes Batwoman and Red Hood, and sometimes Batgirl and Nightwing. A criminal could only hope they got the warning of seeing one of the others first or he’d have them in his talons hundreds of feet in the air before they even realized he was there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time passed. Damian grew closer to the rest of the Colony under Dick’s instruction.

Jason and Kate bonded with him over their more aggressive styles (to Bruce’s consternation) while helping him learn ways to calm his temper.

Despite their rough start and continuing antagonism, Damian grew to respect Tim’s quick mind as he tutored him in strategy and the Colony’s language.

He also developed a respect that had nothing to do with fear -- not at all -- for Barbara after she repaid an insult he gave her by sharing with the entire family a video of him fawning over some stray kittens in the park. He never discovered how she got the footage as he had made sure there were no cameras in the vicinity before acting in such an undignified fashion. (It was Dick. He pouted for weeks when he realized the cute video he took of his adorable baby brother was used for such purposes.)

A similar kind of respect grew for Harper as he quickly learned to be noticeable when approaching her. She had far too much experience with bats and birds sneaking around and far too little concern over jabbing them with a stun gun in revenge, whether they meant to scare her or not.

He was not afraid to admit he was scared of Cass once he realized who she was, though. He knew her skills and knew she could take him down in seconds if it came to it.

He was skeptical of both Stephanie and Bette, who he believed to be vapid, but Stephanie’s pranks were amusing when they weren’t directed at him and Bette introduced him to social media revolving around animal rights (and cute animal pictures).

Although he was rather dull, Cullen was by far the best person to be with while working on his newfound appreciation for drawing and painting, especially if the older boy was doing his own artwork for the webcomics he and Duke collaborated on.

While not being the most mentally or physically skilled, Duke was the most patient of the lot and could be trusted to keep his mouth shut so he was the one Damian went to when he needed assistance with homework (a rare occurrence, but the American schooling system was so different from his League tutors, to the point that sometimes they even seemed to contradict one another) or wanted to practice his Trillic.

Though he would never admit it out loud, Dick was Damian’s favorite of the lot. While he didn’t have Duke’s patience, he was just as considerate and confidential. When something happened, Dick was always willing to hear him out and talk him through it until he understood. Or at least was on the path to understanding. Dick did not share Jason’s anger, his father’s suspicion, Tim’s caution, or Duke’s anxiety. He had only sympathy. Damian knew his mother would consider Dick weak, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a year in Gotham came and went, Dick went to Duke and Bette. The three talked, eventually bringing in Harper as an idea began to blossom.

Robin had a sword. They said he got it from his shadow.

The only thing not pitch black on the Black Bat was the thin golden outline of the Bat’s symbol on their chest. Their face was featureless, not even possessing eyes like Batgirl. They never made a sound. If you saw Robin, then his shadow was behind you.

There was no time to run.

On the other hand, those who believed themselves safe during the day proved to be foolish.

Bright spirits had come to Gotham.

They wore metal armor and carried their wings on their chests. They came and went in flashes of light bright enough to stun.

Bluebird was their guide and donned armor of blue. Her voice echoed with the voices of lost souls and lightning danced across her form.

Lark was their prophet and donned armor of gold. He could see the past, present, and future and fought with the strength of ages past.

Hawkfire was their messenger and donned armor of red. She spoke with the voices of everyone she passed and her armor blazed with the heat of the sun.

Though they walked the day and seemed to be creatures of light, it was nothing but a trick. They were will-o'-wisps, false lights. They were birds.

The Colony had invaded the day.

With the three working together, Bette offered to turn Duke and Harper. The two accepted. Afterwards Harper sought out Cullen and Cass to offer them the same. She wasn’t surprised with Cass’s easy agreement, though Cullen’s was a little more shocking as he’d never shown any interest in the Colony’s nightlife. Quite the opposite, in fact. He simply shrugged and told her vampirism had nothing to do with the nightlife. It was just how their family worked.

He and Cass were greatly amused, but unsurprised when Harper, Bette, and Duke forgot to mention the latest turnings. They decided to keep their own mouths shut to see how long it would last, though he did confide in Alfred. Not that it was necessary as the man seemed to put it together himself the moment he saw Cullen.

It took three months for Bruce, Tim, and Barbara to figure it out for themselves, then an additional two for the rest to find out when Duke casually mentioned it during a family meeting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian blamed Tim when he found himself stuck in a room with Superman’s spawn Jonathan Kent while said superhero in disguise interviewed Damian’s father for the newspaper.

Clearly, Tim’s horrible curse had somehow rubbed off on Damian and the older boy would pay dearly once he returned home by way of Damian renaming all of Tim’s non-case related computer folders and creating a maze of invisible thread around his room.

At least the half-alien had good taste in video games. And his voice was nice enough that his incessant chatter was more like a soothing white noise than a nuisance. And Superman clearly would have trained Jon in discretion, even if not to Damian’s family’s standards.

For the record, the only reason Damian accepted Jon’s number was so that Dick would be so pleased Damian had finally acquired a friend that he wouldn’t allow the others to tease him over something that was clearly Tim’s fault to begin with. And when that plot fell through, he simply forgot to delete Jon’s number because he was busy expanding his revenge to include Jason and Stephanie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harper, as Black Bat, wore Cass's Orphan suit from Young Justice. I wanted something a little more lowkey from what she normally wears since she's not really supposed to be spotted.

Tim's suit got the most reworking because I like and dislike elements from all his Red Robin suits. The end result is one with the body armor from his Young Justice (TV) Robin suit, but with the New 52 wings paired with the bandoliers, logo, and cowl from the original Red Robin suit. Except I left the cowl open on top like the ones Kid Flash and Impulse use. From there you replace the red with blue and the yellow with white. I honestly wish I was better at drawing so that I could give a visual of what I'm going for here.

Cass's Black Bat suit is her Batgirl one, just with her belt black instead.

Haper, Bette, and Duke wear Signal's armor as Bluebird, Hawkfire, and Lark, just in blue, red, and gold instead of yellow. The bat logo is also replaced with their individualized bird logos.

Vampires’ animal forms:

Duke: Cape wild dog

Harper: Maned wolf

Cullen: Crab-eating fox

Cass: Northern bat

[thismasterpieceofmine]

Breaking the Rules

Rated T; Spoilers for seasons 4-15.18

Regardless of what Heaven thinks, Cas was not doomed the moment he touched Dean's soul in Hell. He was saved.

Or: a look at all the rules Castiel broke as he sided with the Winchesters, and the one rule he surprisingly kept.

Michael had been absolutely clear in his instructions: “Grab the Righteous Man’s soul from the Pit and return it to it’s body so I may have my vessel to defeat Lucifer.” Towering above the seraph, Michael’s cold eyes do not leave Castiel, as if waiting to find a crack or some indication this particular angel before him would fail him. “Do you understand your task?”

Castiel nodded, as one does not disobey an Archangel. “Yes sir.”

“Good. It doesn’t matter the casualties, don’t stop until you grab it,” Michael added, making it clear the task was to obtain his vessel. 

It did not matter how many angels died in the process and if Castiel had been introduced to humanity, to doubt and other emotions at the time, perhaps he would’ve seen the flaws in thinking like that. But he had not, and such forth does not question Michael’s word. After all, Michael was the eldest of all angels. He was one of the few who their Father spoke to, and knowing His word, Castiel knows Michael’s own word must be almost as important as God’s. Besides, Castiel is old enough to know what happens to angels who disobey or question orders - they fall. 

So Castiel, the good soldier, nods again and leads his garrison to Hell. They storm the gates as Michael has commanded, and in the midst of the fighting, Castiel flies to the Pit and retrieves the Righteous Man’s soul from the Rack. 

 “Oh, and Castiel?” Michael’s voice rang through his head as he reached for the soul, the final parting words the Archangel had told him before leaving. “Do not get attached to it.”

Such a silly warning, one might think, for angels are not able to get attached or form connections with things. Especially those below the Archangels in rank. Emotions had been deemed dangerous, tricky things that had caused the Fall, caused the Rebellion, and the remaining Archangels had made it clear how bad those were. And those who forgot, Naomi reminded. 

Angels do not feel.

Angels do not get attached.

And yet, when Castiel’s hand meets the soul’s shoulder, a shudder passes through his grace. The soul is damaged, and has faced the harsh nature of Hell --  it has been torn and ripped at, all sharp edges and weeping wounds, and as Castiel touches it, it's emotions seep into his own grace. But still, despite this, he can feel it's strength, it's resilience and Castiel lets some of his grace seep into the soul to ease it's emotions, to patch it's wounds. Without realizing it, the angel mends most of the damage done to the Righteous Man’s soul, before returning it to it’s body, and that’s when Castiel breaks the first rule: don’t get attached.

Of course, Castiel doesn't realize this at the time.  It becomes such a gradual thing, forming bit by bit, strengthening as time passes. After the Righteous Man --  Dean, his name is Dean. A name Michael does not use. All the angels view Dean has the Righteous Man, the Michael Sword. Castiel views him as Dean --  is resurrected, Castiel tries to reach out to him. It’s purely to keep an eye on him, much like he had been told to, after having delivered the news to Michael. 

Michael had told him to ensure Lucifer’s agents did not weaken his vessel before the battle could commence -- and Castiel had understood his next command. Keep the Righteous Man safe to ensure Heaven wins, whatever the cost. So, as a loyal soldier of Heaven, he does. He allows himself to aid the Righteous Man and the vessel of Lucifer time and time again, and each time he returns to them, he finds himself growing intrigued by them. Dean especially. Up until this point, Castiel has only observed humans from afar, but now, seeing them up close, helping them, he feels like he’s truly begun to understand them. He can see the similarities between Dean and Michael too, but where the angels only see the similarities, Castiel sees the differences too. 

Unlike Michael, Dean does not see the apocalypse as a war for paradise, of Heaven triumphing over Hell. Rather, he sees how it will affect humans, all those who will die and suffer for some useless battle -- and hearing it that way makes Castiel pause and think. 

Because despite being told this battle will rid the world of evil and temptation, that Michael will use him to destroy Lucifer, the Serpent, the Fallen Angel of the Pit, the Father of Lies, Dean does not care for that. Instead, as the demons work to break the seals, him, and the vess--- Sam work to counteract it.  They go against everything Castiel knows and believes, and as Castiel continues to offer his help, he finds himself doing the unthinkable: he asks questions. 

Not out loud, no, he knows the consequences of that. But being around Dean, around the Winchesters, he thinks about what they tell him. He thinks about how his superiors and the angels around him seem less and less concerned as more seals break. They are all certain that Lucifer will be sprung from the Cage, Michael himself, and Castiel can’t understand what happened once to their dedication to preventing that. Why is it only the Winchesters that don’t want the war to happen?

It’s being at Dean’s side that Castiel truly learns Heaven and Hell aren’t so different -- they both want their war. They both want their victories over the other, and neither cares about humans if they don’t serve them for their tasks. Heaven especially. Perhaps Castiel should’ve figured this, as angels were soldiers first, not guardians, but he also remembers his Father telling them to love and protect humans. 

And if Michael and Heaven can’t understand that, then Castiel will do it himself.

With this, he breaks two more rules: He doubts Heaven, and he disobeys his superiors, ignoring the mission they gave him. 

An angel shouldn’t be able to turn its back on Heaven, not without falling, not with all the effort Michael has put in to keep them loyal, but Dean fascinates Castiel. It’s his willingness to not give up,  to keep fighting even when the odds are stacked against him, and Castiel follows him wherever he goes. He helps the Winchesters try to stop the seals from breaking, he joins them on hunts, sits in the back of their car, and acts very unangelic. 

He turns his back against Heaven again and again and again. 

He kills angels for Sam and Dean, he talks back and asks questions, and allows himself to willingly fall further and further from God’s Grace. 

Castiel lets Dean (and Sam) call him Cas, removing the suffix that ties him to Heaven, to God. No longer is the shield of God. He’s just Cas, and while the butchering of a Heavenly name should warrant the two hunters facing the wrath of heaven, Cas welcomes it with a smile. After all, Cas has made it clear at this point, that he will not serve Heaven anymore, will not listen to Michael’s orders, putting himself instead on the side of Humanity. Cas, the angel formerly known as Castiel, does not quite saunter from Heaven’s light, or take a thousand-year-free-fall to Hell, takes a conscious step off the edge of Heaven right into Humanity’s arms with a grin. 

After stopping the showdown at Stull Cemetery, Cas begins breaking rules like it’s a checklist. 

He rebels against Raphael, the only remaining Archangel.

He starts a rebellion in Heaven and then kills Raphael.

He kills angels -- old friends, new enemies, all those who were his brothers and sisters -- for the sake of two humans. 

Cas questions God’s plan and then calls himself the new God in Raphael’s place.

He works with demons, he falls, he betrays Sam and Dean, his friends, all fo Heaven.

He lets himself get attached, feel emotions and care about other humans, picking humanity over his siblings each time.

Regardless of the chances he’s been given to come back, Cas turns his back on his angelic mission, on what the angels say is God’s plan, and no amount of threats and brainwashing and words can stop him. (Even death does not stick for Cas, who comes back as often as the Winchesters.)

In twelve years of being on Earth, of being in the presence of Dean, there is one final rule that he breaks. 

Now, this isn’t a spoken rule that he was told by his superiors, but it’s a rule passed by mouth from those in his garrison and others he trained with. A rule made way back after the angels fell, when Nephilim first sprouted up - never fall in love with humans. Taboo, a rule that when broken was as good as death, as good as falling, as good as betrayal against Heaven. Angels were not allowed to fall in love. 

Cas breaks that rule too. For how could one look at Dean Winchester and not fall in love? How could he not care so deeply about this one human who taught him everything, who shared his passions and showed him kindness and called him family when Heaven deemed him broken? How could he not love this human whose soul he patched up in Hell, who watched time in and time out, put himself so selflessly on the line for his brother, for their friends, for all of the world, expecting nothing in return? How was Cas expected to not care about him after all of that?

Chuck and a great deal of Heaven had pointed out time and time again that Castiel had come out wrong, a bit broken, a crack in his chassey, and perhaps they were right. Maybe he was broken, maybe he had fallen the moment he lay hands on Dean’s soul in Hell, or had shattered himself at the altar of Dean Winchester, but he was okay with that. Because Dean cared for him back, and Cas easily could say these last few years by the hunter’s side were some of the best, regardless of the good, bad and ugly that came with it. 

“I love you,” he says with a smile. It’s not the way he planned this to go, and Dean looks confused and heartbroken, but Cas does not regret the words. He does not regret the rules he has broken to get here, even as Billie threatens to break down the door and kill them both. Nothing could ever stop Cas from breaking those rules again if given the chance -- because Dean Winchester had been saved when Cas had pulled him from Hell, and Cas had been saved the moment he met Dean on earth. 

(and perhaps, for all that the grief he had been given over the rules he had broken, he should be given some credit for the one he had kept: Keep the Righteous Man safe. Maybe not without getting attached, but, as the Empty swallows him and Billie up, he likes to believe that that little detail hardly matters. He still kept the most important one.)

[insanityclause]

In the ultimate symbol of one Hollywood era ending and another beginning, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, home to James Bond and Rocky, finally found a buyer willing to pay retail: Amazon.

The e-commerce giant said on Wednesday that it would acquire the 97-year-old film and television studio for $8.45 billion — or about 40 percent more than other prospective buyers, including Apple and Comcast, thought MGM was worth. The studio, which had been shopped around for months, was once home to “more stars than the heavens,” as Louis B. Mayer liked to brag. But its vast production lot and pre-1986 film library were sold off decades ago. (Sony Pictures now occupies the lot, and Warner Bros. owns classic MGM films like “Singin�� in the Rain,” “The Wizard of Oz,” and “Gone With the Wind.”)

MGM does come with one Hollywood crown jewel: James Bond.

But even 007 has an asterisk. Amazon will own only 50 percent of the spy franchise. The balance is held by Barbara Broccoli and her brother, Michael G. Wilson. The siblings also have ironclad creative control, deciding when to make a new Bond film, who should play the title role and whether television spinoffs get made. (They have blocked such efforts in the past.)

The 25th installment in the Bond series, “No Time to Die,” is scheduled for pandemic-delayed release in theaters on Oct. 8, with Universal Pictures handling overseas distribution.

So why did Amazon pay such a startling premium?

For starters, it can. The company has $71 billion in cash and a market capitalization of $1.64 trillion.

But Jeff Bezos, Amazon’s founder and chief executive, is known as a conservative buyer. The purchase of Whole Foods for $13.4 billion in 2017 was the biggest acquisition in Amazon’s history. Its next-largest deals — until MGM — were for Zappos ($1.2 billion, 2009) and the smart doorbell company Ring ($1.2 billion, 2018).

The Whole Foods deal was a major strategic change for the company, pushing it into new markets of groceries and physical stores, which it had largely avoided. MGM is more about augmenting a current strategy: Amazon most likely paid more than others thought MGM was worth because of its all-important Prime membership program.

In addition to paying Amazon $119 a year or $13 a month for free shipping and other perks — notably access to the Prime Video streaming service — households with Prime memberships typically spend $3,000 a year on Amazon. That is more than twice what households without the membership spend, according to Morgan Stanley. About 200 million people pay for Prime memberships.

“More and more Prime members are using video more often, spending more hours on there, so I think this is a way to add more content and more talent around movies,” said Brian Yarbrough, a senior analyst at Edward Jones.

“This isn’t one studio buying another,” he added. “If you’re Amazon, the perspective is what’s the potential for Prime membership, what is the potential for advertising.”

In buying MGM, Amazon is bolstering Prime Video at a time when the biggest old-line studios are becoming less willing to license their libraries to outside streaming services; Warner Bros., Walt Disney Studios and Paramount Pictures must now supply corporate siblings like HBO Max, Disney+ and Paramount+.

That shift has made independent film libraries more valuable. In recent weeks, Sony Pictures licensed its old films and TV shows to Netflix and Disney in deals valued at more than $3 billion, a sharp increase from the expiring licensing agreements. Sony does not have a streaming service, unless you count the game-oriented PlayStation Network.

Although its library is diminished, MGM still owns 4,000 older movies, including pre-1986 films that come from two MGM divisions, United Artists and Orion. Those movies include “Rocky,” “RoboCop,” “The Pink Panther,” “Silence of the Lambs” and the James Bond catalog. (Fun fact: In true Hollywood fashion, MGM’s roaring lion mascot is lip-syncing; a cranky tiger sounded more ferocious.)

In addition, MGM has several movies in its pipeline that could be Oscar contenders, including “Respect,” an Aretha Franklin biopic starring Jennifer Hudson; Ridley Scott’s “House of Gucci,” starring Lady Gaga and Adam Driver; and Paul Thomas Anderson’s latest project, which stars Bradley Cooper in his first film since “A Star is Born.”

Amazon’s appetite for movies became ravenous during the pandemic. It paid $125 million for the rights to “Coming 2 America,” $80 million for “Borat Subsequent Moviefilm,” and $200 million for “The Tomorrow War,” a Chris Pratt adventure that will arrive on Prime on July 2. Amazon also has Oscar ambitions, buying the rights to “Sound of Metal,” which was nominated for best picture and other top awards at the most recent ceremony.

When it comes to making its own hit films, Amazon has long struggled. MGM managers could help: Michael De Luca, MGM’s movie chairman, has a track record that includes, at various companies, the “Rush Hour,” “Austin Powers” and “Fifty Shades of Grey” franchises.

MGM also has a television studio that makes “Vikings,” “The Handmaid’s Tale” and various “Real Housewives” shows. In 2014, MGM acquired Mark Burnett’s production company, One Three Media, which holds rights to competition series like “The Voice,” “Survivor” and “Shark Tank.” Mr. Burnett, a contentious figure in Hollywood because he helped shape Donald J. Trump’s image with “The Apprentice” and remained close to him during his divisive presidential term, serves as MGM’s television chairman.

Anchorage Capital, a New York investment firm, has been the majority owner of MGM for more than a decade. Before that, MGM was tossed between owners and, bitten by falling DVD revenue, eventually ending up in bankruptcy. It was worth about $2 billion in 2010, according to analysts.

Kevin Ulrich, Anchorage’s chief executive and MGM’s chairman, formally put the studio on the block late last year. Anchorage has been under pressure from various stakeholders to exit the investment, with some agitators complaining that Mr. Ulrich was overly enamored with Hollywood and should have sold years ago.

The end of MGM as a stand-alone company adds to a vast reshaping of the media business as the big seek to compete by getting even bigger. Last week, AT&T announced a deal to spin off its WarnerMedia group and combine it with Discovery Inc., a move meant to strengthen WarnerMedia’s struggling HBO Max streaming service and a nascent streaming platform owned by Discovery. In a counterattack against the tech companies that have aggressively moved into Hollywood over the last decade, Disney paid $71.3 billion for the bulk of Rupert Murdoch’s entertainment assets in 2019.

Such megadeals have left smaller studios like MGM, Lionsgate and STX Entertainment looking for lifelines. (STX, known for comedies like “Hustlers” and “Bad Moms,” merged with the Bollywood studio Eros International last summer.)

[thecandywrites]

Of Heaven and Fire Part 15

Oh this is gonna get worse. Hopefully it’ll hurt so good.

@probablyclever​ @imherefortheforthefanart​ @funmadnessandbadassvikings​

Of Heaven and Fire 

Part 15

“Brock, this is your mate, Benyana,” Rhoslan introduced as she came to give you a side hug as she brought you closer to him. 

“Where did you get her from?” Brock asked as he looked you over, trying to figure out where you had come from. But you could tell he was having difficulty processing this. 

“She’s a moura, from the mountain colony of Suchi and you were the one who got her.” Drad answered as Brock scrunched up his face in disgust at the mention of Suchi. 

“So we conquered Suchi and she was my victory bride?” Brock tried asking but you could tell he didn't believe that as he started to look at you with suspicion. 

“Uh...kind of?” Rhoslan grimaced at you. 

“So where’s the rest of her people as our slaves then?” Brock asked as he noticed the other mouras on the edge of the crowd looking on curiously before everyone around you boomed a ‘No!’. 

“No, it is illegal to enslave a moura, the penalty is death on the person and death to their family.” Everyone informed him. 

“How about we go home and rest.” Rhoslan insisted as she gathered Brock and led him home as you and the shaman followed too and once in the living room Brock just kept looking at you like you were a spy. 

“Brock, what’s the last thing you remember?” Rhoslan asked. 

“We just celebrated the Lunar New Year, last night didn’t we?” Brock answered and you winced and grimaced and blew out a breath of defeat and cursed under your breath. 

“What does that mean?” Rhos asked you as even the shaman sat back and looked on curiously, because even he looked 30 years younger. But you sensed he didn't have the same memory loss Brock did. 

“It means that there is a reason why all moura’s choose to get reborn in the ashes on new years, it must be because of this,” you gestured to Brock. “It’s because it obviously resets the memory to the last new year, when moura’s do this, they lose a day, he’s lost the last 6 months. It means he won’t remember me or anything that has happened since then.” You revealed.

“Do the memories ever come back?” Rhoslan asked hopefully but you could only shake your head no as tears welled in your eyes. 

“I should go,” you stood up as you watched as he looked relieved that you said that. 

“It’s obvious that my presence is agitating him. Which makes sense, I'm a stranger to him now and I'm in his house, that would agitate anyone. Be kind and gentle with him for the next few days until he settles back into time.” You suggested before you left and went to your house where you sobbed, your brother following you and consoling you. 

It was so hard to keep your distance from him over the next week, because ever time you saw him, you just wanted him to look at you like he used toas his family took him out and showed him how the trees had not only gotten their leaves but were now producing fruit, how it was now late summer and the fields were still a month or two away from harvesting. Kari showed him how she had grown and how the changes to the clan that you and him had brought about had helped the clan. 

When Kaive and Cugas went out into the ships to gather fish and other seafood, they came back with full ships, the cargo’s still iced as the iced cargo’s were loaded onto Drauch and Drauch went with the wind to Suchi and came back with unimaginable wealth for the seafood and how half the clan was living on Drauch along with other mouras who had chosen the orcs as mates.  Funny enough, the same people that the orcs had initially caught when they had attacked back in the spring. Almost like they were fated to be together and you were happy that you weren’t the only moura in the clan and they were all too happy to keep you company while you kept your distance and let Brock get reacclimated to time and the season.

But you noticed that every time Brock saw you he suddenly seemed to frown before he would turn around and leave and he did his best to avoid you altogether. And as much as this hurt, you tried to see this from his eyes. If this had happened to you, to wake up from the ashes and suddenly find out you're mated with a stranger, you would be weary if not uncomfortable and you would want to resist it. It was only natural you supposed. Mouras liked to fly free and you probably signified a cage to him. You just needed to give him time and space. And honestly, this wasn’t unheard of. There had been a few couples who were reborn in the ashes together and once reborn, hated each other and lived a lifetime apart and the next rebirth would fall in love again. But he had already lost so much. You couldn’t bear to see him go through the ordeal again. He had won you over once, now it was your turn to win him over. But it didn't help things when your baby bump emerged and seemed to grow a little more each day and the whole clan had spun all kinds of tales of what had happened in the last six months and some of it was true and some of it was legend and while his family made sure to just tell him the facts of what had happened. Brock still had eyes and ears and who knew what he had been overhearing since his rebirth. 

One day soon after you were harvesting the produce in your garden around your house when Brock suddenly appeared before you, looking particularly agitated. 

“Is it true?” Brock growled angrily. 

“Is what true?” You repeated in confusion as you stood and faced him. 

“That you’re carrying my child.” Brock hissed, keeping his voice down and looking particularly embarrassed. 

“Yes, it is.” You affirmed as you placed your hand over your bump as your son soon began to kick you. He always did when his father was near. If Brock had his memories, he would be overjoyed and would have cuddled your belly and would have wanted to feel every kick. But, now, that was the last thing Brock would want to do. 

“Well you should know that I do not have to claim you or it.” Brock announced staunchly. 

“I know that.” You calmly returned. “You told me shortly after you impregnated me that orc warriors will often lay with many women before battle and that if he came back, he claimed who he wished to, he may even take all the children he fathered and dump them on his favorite to raise.” You recalled. 

“That’s right.” Brock nodded in agreement with a smug smirk. 

“But you should know that if you try to take our son from me, I’ll slit your throat myself.” You threatened evenly and for the first time, he cracked a grin at you. But there was a maliciousness to the curve of it. 

“I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you.” Brock sneered before he turned back. 

“How do you know it’s a son?” He suddenly asked as he turned back towards you. 

“Moura’s have ways of knowing what we’re carrying.” You answered simply. 

“Why do you hate me so much?” You asked as you could practically see the hateful rage roll off of him. 

“Because you don’t belong here! You shouldn’t be here. So since I’m never going to claim you or your child, you should go back home, where you’re wanted. Because I sure as hell don’t!” Brock insisted. 

“But what if I want to stay here anyway? My home is already here. Besides my son will still be half orc, he should be here, with his clan.” You calmly countered as you gestured to your home then to the other clan members who were walking by, curiously looking on. 

“I’m told it wasn’t built here but moved here on a cloud. Moura’s do shit to clouds don’t they? You can pick it up and move it, in fact you should. Sooner than later.” Brock insisted. 

“Why?” You questioned curiously. 

“Are you stupid?! I just said that you don’t belong here, you stick out like a sore thumb and an orc clan is no place for a moura!” Brock argued hotly. 

“Those moura’s seem to be doing just fine.” You nodded over to a couple of couples who were at the blacksmith’s nearby, the mouras getting their orc counterparts new armor. 

“Well….you’re...you’re different!” Brock yelled before everyone turned and stared which embarrassed both of you. 

“How am I different?” You asked, forcing yourself to remain calm in an effort to diffuse his own anger. Because that’s what he used to do with you before. 

“Because you just are!”Brock roared. 

“Go home to Suchi, where you’ll have parents and siblings and friends who can care for you and support you. Because you won’t find any help or support from anyone around here!” Brock hollered before he stomped away, leaving everyone who overheard it- staring at Brock in confusion before you gathered your produce and went back inside, tears running in streams down your cheeks. 

“What the fuck was that?!” Dastrin, Brock’s right hand man and closest friend demanded as he chased after Brock from the blacksmith. 

“None of your business!” Brock snarled. 

“Yes it is my business! She is the next warchieftess, the clan has already decided. Before your rebirth in the ashes you announced that she was carrying your one and only heir and that she would reign as warchieftess until your son was of age. She has done nothing to disqualify herself from that position. Why are you treating her like the enemy when all she has ever done since she set foot in the clan is to help us because she has been our greatest ally?” He questioned. 

“Because she is not our ally! She never was, she did all that to save her own skin and to help Suchi. That’s where her loyalties lie. She is the enemy! A spy! She never stopped being the enemy, she somehow put a spell over everyone to love her. Besides I'm sure it was just a political alliance on Suchi’s part, give us a moura bride in exchange for peace for their own precious colony so we don’t attack and raid them. Those unions are always strained. This is no different.” Brock insisted as Dastrin growled in frustration. 

“What kind of nonsense is that?! No. You have it all wrong. How is she the enemy?" Dastrin demanded. 

“She just is, I look at her and I know something isn’t right about her, I just...I hate her, I hate everything about her.” Brock pouted as he crossed his arms over his chest as Dastin raised a disbelieving eyebrow. 

“Maybe it’s your memories of your strong love for her that are trying to come through and you’re misunderstanding them.” Dastrin suggested. 

“No! I have no memory of that woman at all. She could have fucked any orc or hell any of her previous suitors and gotten pregnant, she’s just trying to entrap me to be warchieftess by saying it’s mine. She’s like all the other power hungry bitches here.” Brock growled. 

“Well, if that's the way you feel about her and you don’t want her, then I guess that means she’s free for the taking, I already have one moura and she’s amazing, but I’ll take two especially one that’s already pregnant with a son.” Dastrin shrugged as he went to walk to your house, passing by Brock before Brock put a blade to his throat to keep Dastrin from going any further which caused Dastrin to grin smugly. 

“You take a step in that woman’s direction and I’ll slit your throat.” Brock seethed, feeling an overwhelming sense of possessiveness. 

“So let me get this straight, you don’t want her, you want her gone, but you’ll kill any other man who expresses an interest in her?” Dastrin questioned. 

“I..it’s...I’m protecting you! She has magic, she’ll put a horrible spell on you! Like she has with everyone else!” Brock insisted as he pulled the blade back and put it away once Dastrin took a step back. 

“Well moura’s do have magic, but not the kind you’re implying.” Dastrin nodded. 

“Look either claim her, or get out of the way so others can because I can tell you  half of your unmated commanders would give everything they own and pledge their undying loyalty to her right here right now if it means that she makes them the amazing food she has made for you and heal their wounds the way she healed yours and house them in that mansion of hers and they’ll happily adopt that pup in her womb before planting many more. She’s the most brilliant and coveted woman in the clan because she’s the wealthiest woman in the clan, if not one of the prettiest. I saw the angels, the heavenly mouras, the fae, the merfolk and elves all tired to court her and she turned them all down for you. I saw as they all took her rejection with grace and still gave her more gifts so that she has more wealth than any kingdom’s treasury. Because not only is she moura, she’s also part and angel and part siren, I saw it myself when I was on the ships with you. She dove down to the depths and got those water dragons to only ice the holds to preserve the fish for Suchi and the other colonies and every merfolk and siren and selkie alike were eating out of her hands. But she didn’t take to any of them because her heart was already set on you and that was only a couple of weeks after you got her. She could have been a queen of any realm she wanted. But instead she chose to come here. She’s the closest thing to a goddess this clan has ever seen and everyone likes her because she has earned our trust and respect because she fought for us and protected us and educated us and our clan has been nothing but blessed since she came." Dastrin explained before he had Brock look back at your house. 

"Look. Look at the very ground she inhabits. Look at how the vegetation is especially lush just around her house. She is a blessing just being here. Why do you want to drive her away? Don’t you think that driving a blessing away will invite tragedy and curses to our clan?” Dastrin questioned as Brock glared at your house. If it was anyone else’s home, he would be impressed but because of yours, he could only look at it and hate it because it was yours. 

“We don’t need her blessing! We were just fine before, we’ll be fine without her.” Brock insisted. 

“No we weren’t! We weren’t fine at all! Hurricane Breaker was at our throats, our fishing nets were never full and you could gather all the gold the clan had into a single chest and it wouldn’t even be half full and you could gather all our produce into a single storehouse. We were poor and desperate.” Dastrin argued. 

“So desperate in fact that you went to the shaman the day after the Moon Festival because we could only find and kill a single bear to roast for it for the clan. And all of us went to bed hungry that night. And the next morning you got up and went to the shaman and asked him to show you how to fix all these problems and he showed you your mate, he showed you Benyana and told you that if you went to Suchi- she would fly into your arms and would fix all your problems and with her as your warchieftess Stormbreaker would enter into a golden age and become greater than Hurricane Breaker ever was and ever will be.” Dastrin explained because Brock had spent the day after the Moon Festival in the Shaman’s home and when Brock had emerged, Brock had never been so excited and determined about anything in his life.  

“And you know what? That’s exactly what happened! You went there and she flew right into your hands as a missile hawk and you took her home and even though you had to tether her to keep her from flying away at first, she did everything the shaman said she would! She fixed the problems the fleet had with the ships being iced by those water dragons since the ice would cut the nets as they tried to bring the nets up on board, she found a way to make a truce with Hurricane Breaker by suggesting that instead of looking south at us, to look east to their own mountains and to set up trade with their own moura colony and they listened to her. No fight, no war, no raid, nothing. None of us ever had to see battle. She just sat there, looking like a vision and told them to sell their own catches to the other colony and they obeyed her and now they’re making almost as much money as we are. But Suchi is a bigger colony and we have better fishing grounds and catch more fish so we sell more fish so we make more money. The clan has never been better than it is right now and it’s all because of her.” He explained. 

“Now that she’s here, look- the fields are overflowing with grains of all kinds in varieties that are better and hardier than the ones we’ve used before. The gardens are bursting with fruits and vegetation and all the food bearing trees are nearly falling over because the weight of the fruits and vegetation is nearly causing the tree branches to break off the trees. The store houses are already showing signs of needing more room if not many more storehouses which are being built as we speak because we never had this kind of abundance in so many different summer crops because we’ve never planted this kind of variety before and everything we plant grows. We can’t make enough nets because the extra large catches keep straining them now. Even now the net weavers are weaving from sunrise to sunset every single day because the demand for them is just that high.” He revealed before he walked Brock over to the closest little stream. 

 “I mean look in the estuary, it’s teaming with fish and the waters in the estuary are now clear and sparkling and clean and the water even tastes sweeter than it used to be. The estuary has never teamed with fish before. You can walk across the river on the backs of the fish if you wanted to. The land is finally producing for us to it’s full. Because before the only reason we settled here is because no other clan wanted this land. The water in the estuary was muddy, the fish weren’t that clean and the river flooded the plains all the time and the mosquitoes used to eat us alive and the flies used to swarm the few fish we managed to catch. The merchants who used to snub us now do trade with us and we get the same quality products that Suchi got instead of the leftovers or the broken and damaged.” Dastrin reminded him. 

“This spring, every rabbit and boar had full litters, every deer had twins and even every bison and elk did too along with the bears and squirrels and trash pandas, you can't throw a stick in the woods without hitting some critter now. There’s more game in the woods now than there ever was and no one has gone hungry since she came and now all our cattle and herds have doubled and then tripled and now we have more animals than we can ever eat and they’re reproducing faster than we can butcher them and our lands are expanding and the clan itself is expanding and everywhere you look, there’s construction and business starting and people who are not moura or orc are coming to settle here and we’re becoming a town and soon we’ll be a city and then a kingdom and it’s all because you were sick of the way things were and you wanted a better life and a better way of living and you suceeded in getting the initial spark but you have put so many great things in motion and you put us on a path and if we don’t keep walking on it, we’ll be lost. We even have not one but five healers and medicine flows like water through the clan and every home now has a medicine garden in addition to their own food garden and recipes for every medicine are written on hides and nailed up in the city square. There’s even talk of a school opening up that even our young ones will get the same education that any other place does, if not better.” Dastrin explained as he gestured to the school that was being built. 

“I’m just scared that if you send her away, it will all stop. We’ve all gotten used to this, going back to the way it was before will be too hard for us and those who haven’t moved to Drauch yet, will move there and Drauch will just have to be flown from the sea straight to Suchi. Because none of us will want to live here.” Dastrin warned him before he turned and returned to his mate Kallimisa who was standing at a respectful distance nearby. 

"Everything OK?" She asked as Dastrin wrapped his arm around her and led her away. 

"Brock's just being stubborn as usual." Dastrin dismissed. "What do you want for lunch?" He asked before he passed Rhoslan who was marching to Brock before she grabbed him by the ear and drug him home as he cried out and whimpered the whole way and tried to fight her but couldn’t get traction. 

“Mom! Stop! You’re embarrassing me!” Brock complained. 

"Oh I’m embarrassing you?! No. You just embarrassed yourself and your father and I. You wanna act like you're two?! I'll treat you like you're two!" Rhoslan growled and pinched even harder and dragged him more forcefully. 

"How come I just heard from half a dozen different people that you are harassing Benyana?!" Rhoslan demanded once they got in the house where Dead was glaring at Brock from his seat. 

"I was not harassing her! I never even touched her!" Brock argued as he rubbed soothingly at his ear. 

"Just because you didn't hurt her with your hands does not mean you didn't hurt her with your words. You embarrassed her in front of the whole clan! How could you do that? You brought shame to yourself and our family!" Rhoslan accused. 

"I did not!" Brock defended. "Its not my fault she's thin skinned and got her feelings hurt by my words, all I did was tell her the truth."

"Benyana was not the one who told us about it, she hasn't left her house! But word is already spreading that you rejected her and her babe. Now half the male orcs in the clan who are not in mated pairs are going to try to claim her in the old ways, she could lose the baby because they won't be gentle with her and they'll make a whore out of her. Is that what you want to see? Just because you don't remember her, you want her to be ravaged by violence? She won't be your warchieftess after that I can tell you that right now. She may be fierce and strong in her own ways but if two or five or ten orcs gang up on her, she'll be finished. And all her sacrifices for you will have been for nothing because you turned into a thankless, ungrateful, pig headed stubborn jackass since your rebirth. Why?! Why are you being so difficult?!" She demanded. 

"Because it's wrong!" Brock repeated. 

"Why is it wrong?" Drad asked. 

"I don't know! I can't explain it. Why does the wind blow? Why do the rains fall? We don't know why but we know that they do. Every time I hear someone say her name it's like driving thorns into my skin and every time I see her it's like seeing a vulture circle around me. Like she's waiting to devour me if I drop my guard." Brock tried to explain. 

"But if you had any honor at all you still would not treat her the way you did just now. Even if I was the one who got her for you, you would still treat her well because you had a duty to her and you respect me enough to show appreciation for the great gift of her as a bride. And even if she was a victory bride you would claim her and claim the seed you planted in her for the sake of the peace and alliance to preserve her honor and dignity along with yours and ours. You had no right to treat her the way you did today." Rhoslan defended. 

"That is why you will respect our decision of Kellore." Drad commanded. 

"What?! No!" Brock blanched. Kellore happened when a warchief sent an engagement offer to a fellow clan, sight unseen and it was considered an engagement and once the woman arrived at the clan, she was accepted into the household of the warchief and was a daughter of the current warchief until the mating of the pair and it would protect the woman from any other courting rituals. It was the orc’s version of an arranged marriage. 

"Yes you will or I swear to the gods I will disinherit you from being the next warchief and Cugas' line will inherit it." Drad threatened. 

"Well if you do that, Benyana will no longer want to be with me but with Cugas." Brock insisted. 

"Brock, Cugas has already paired with Benyana’s brother and Cugas and Kaive have already said that Benyana’s babe will be their heir too, so either way Benyana’s son will be the next warchief, he is destined to be so and there is nothing you can do to change that. Besides, Benyana has never wanted power or control. She grew up in circumstances more humble than ours and she didn't ask for any of this. You were the one who put all of this on her and it was because of your actions that she had to deal with the fall out and she dealt with it better than anyone else ever has. She’s proven herself to everyone else. So give her a chance to prove it to you again that you two are a good match and that she is a good fit and is capable. Both of you took leaps and both of you caught each other numerous times. Yank your head out of your own ass long enough to give her time to prove herself and be kind, be respectful, be patient and be understanding with her or I will disown you, kick you out of this house and this clan and she will take your place in this family and this clan so help me gods." Drad commanded as Brock just glared angrily at his father and just sat in a chair and pouted before you came into the house since Kari had left and got you. 

“What’s going on?” You asked before Rhoslan went to you and informed you of what happened and explained the ultimatum Drad just gave to Brock before you came in as they could all see your red puffy eyes from your crying. 

“Drad, please don’t make this harder for Brock than it has to be,” you pleaded. 

“It’s for his own good and the good of this clan.” Drad insisted. 

“Drad, like I’ve explained before, this kind of thing happens. It’s not as uncommon as you think. It’s ok. I would rather be a single parent then mated to a partner who hates me. The harder we push this, the harder he is going to push back and the harder he is going to resist this. It’s the moura in him. Moura’s hate cages and what they hate more is the thought of slavery. And he is going to feel that being mated to me is the same as being enslaved to me, right?” You asked Brock who looked relieved that you managed to put into words how he had been feeling but just couldn’t verbalize and articulate. 

“If there’s a chance for us to at least be friends and at least be on pleasant speaking terms, then let me earn his trust and respect and admiration the way he earned mine. And if our relationship can progress from enemies to friends to maybe something even more in the very distant future- then let it be his choice every step of the way and something he wants, not something that has to be forced on him and not something that has to have his existance threatened against. That’s not going to help anyone, least of all him or me or especially my son. We have time. We don’t have to rush any of this. Please.” You pleaded. 

“Very well. But, Brock will still treat you with respect and dignity at all times along with kindness, courtiousness and consideration. And you are in a delicate condition. You must be protected at all times and if any harm comes to you, or especially to my grandson. Their lives will be asked for as recompense, no matter who they are.” Drad commanded. 

“That’s fair, I agree.” You nodded before everyone looked to Brock who huffed through his nose. 

“Agreed.” Brock reluctantly agreed. 

[marril96]

The Distance Between Us

Chapter 29: Close Encounters

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: Rowena encounters a blast from her past.

WARNING: slurs.

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian

*****

The atmosphere with Dean Winchester's absence was strange, or so Rowena thought. After all, she'd only been acquainted with the group for a short while. Though, she could tell, despite everyone's efforts to act as if nothing was wrong, something clearly was.

They missed him.

You missed him.

You acted as if you didn't, but Rowena saw right through you. You were angry at him for being mean to her. You resented him for it. Maybe you even thought you hated him. But, underneath it all, you missed him.

The day after he'd walked away Rowena had taken you aside, swallowed up her her pride, and apologized.

As much as she wanted to deny it, she felt guilty. Your friend group had functioned for years without an issue. Then she came along, and one of you had walked away.

He was a petty bastard, but Rowena didn't — couldn't — blame him for disliking her.

With her history, she wouldn't trust herself, either.

She'd made her bed, she supposed. Now she had to lie in it.

She'd spent years hanging around bad people, working alongside them, acting as one of them. She'd joined in on bullying, despicable as she'd found it. She'd gossiped and lied and destroyed without a care in the world.

Consequences were a bitch.

"It's not your fault," you'd told her, and she could tell you were honest. "You didn't do anything wrong. Dean's an asshole."

He was.

Then again, she had basically invaded his territory, his safe place.

It was only natural he felt threatened.

Days went on, and your assurance remained.

Rowena hadn't done anything wrong.

You really loved her. She didn't know how it happened or why, but somehow she'd managed to get you to fall in love with her, and you were in deep.

In public, you always clung to her. Either your hand held hers, fingers in a tight knot, or your arm was thrown around her. A sign, loud and clear, that she was yours and yours only.

When you were alone, you couldn't stop kissing her. Her lips, cheeks, or knuckles; whichever part of her was nearest, you pressed your lips to it. A silent, wordless confession of love.

Rowena basked in it all. She drank in the attention, chased it like a high.

Gilroy had never loved her like this.

Lucifer hadn't even tried.

She was an impossibly lucky girl.

"See you after school?" you asked as the bell rang to sign the end of lunch.

"Shall we go to Wonderland?" Rowena suggested. As fun as hanging out with your friends — her friends, something she still couldn't wrap her head around — at Biggerson's for the past week was, she wanted some quiet. A wee bit of alone time. Just the two of you; no people to stare, no siblings to interrupt.

"Sure!"

You flashed her a smile, and, before she could reciprocate, your lips were on hers in a swift, soft kiss.

Another thing she liked about you — you were always gentle with her. You never grabbed her, never pulled her in for a kiss forcefully. When you held her, you were loving, careful. Your kisses were tender, and you showered her with them whenever you could.

Rowena had never had that before.

She'd never been… loved.

"Sucks that we don't have any classes together today," you said with a pout.

It was ridiculously cute, not that Rowena would ever say it out loud.

Instead, she said, "I know. However will you survive?"

You lightly slapped her hand, prompting her to put on a pout of her own that she could tell made you melt. You weren't one to say it out loud, either, but your face was clear enough. There wasn't much, in terms of emotion, that you could hide from her.

"You tease, but I'm really having a hard time being away from you," you said. "You're sorta addictive."

"Maybe it's a good thing we're apart, then. You don't want to overdose."

"Says who?"

You kissed her again, longer this time. You tasted like heaven, like love and warmth and everything she ever wanted but never had until now. Rowena melted into the sensation. She wanted to stay like this forever; with you, your hands gently holding on to her shoulders, your warmth spilling into her, consuming her, embracing her.

"In that case," she said as you parted, mouth tingling where yours touched it, nerves on fire, "I shall look for you during the next break. Mustn't let you to suffer withdrawals."

"That's more like it! See ya!"

You squeezed her hand in emphasis, then ran into the retreating crowd. Rowena remained in her place, still as a statue. She looked after you, at your back that disappeared in the sea of students rushing to get back to class. Her hand was on fire; it pulsated as if a heart were beating underneath it, your touch still lingering, a ghost on her skin.

You were hers.

Her friend.

Her lover.

Her girl.

It still felt like a dream, as if she would wake up anytime now and find herself laying beside Lucifer, body blooming with bruises, tear-smeared mascara staining her face.

No!

This was real.

You were real.

She swore on her life, on her damned, rotten soul, to never do anything to lose you.

*****

Everything went as planned. The two of you met up for every break, talking a bit, complaining about the boring classes and unfair teachers.

It felt nice.

It felt normal.

Normal was something Rowena hadn't had in a while. Olivette usually badmouthed one person or another. Lucifer joined in, made jokes that weren't funny and laughed at them, all the while keeping a firm arm around Rowena, as if someone would steal her if he were to remove it.

Rowena used to think it was sweet. He was just being protective. A tad too much, perhaps, but it was all for her good. He was just showing her off, showing the world that he had her and they didn't. A lover straight out of a historical romance novel; possessive, but in a way that was romantic rather than disgusting.

Right.

Rowena wanted to laugh at her stupidity.

Lucifer never loved her; she doubted he was even capable of the emotion.

He most likely never even liked her.

She was excellent in bed. She let him use and abuse her, and gave him whatever he wanted without a single word of protest. He didn't even have to ask.

He saw a chance, and he took it.

He took advantage.

And she let him.

She stupidly let him.

All because she wanted what he had.

Well, fuck popularity, she thought. It had brought her nothing but trouble.

She'd been surrounded by people, yet she was alone.

She'd had a boyfriend, yet she wasn't loved, wasn't cherished and cared for.

She'd had nothing.

All the power she'd thought she had was borrowed.

It was never hers.

Nothing was.

Until you.

Rowena replayed that thought as she trudged through the crowd of students. It was the recess before the last period; five minutes before another — thankfully final — boring hour. History. She loved the subject, but she loved you more.

She couldn't wait for the final bell to ring so the two of you could make yourselves at home at Wonderland and put the school day behind you.

The relationship was still fresh. Still new and bright and shiny, and Rowena didn't want to waste a minute of it.

After so many hardships, she was finally happy.

She wanted nothing but to make the best of it.

"Where you going, Red?"

The voice stood out amongst the noise of the crowd like a nail running over the chalkboard, squeaky and loud and nauseating.

Rowena froze, limbs falling still as a statue. As if her flesh had suddenly turned to marble. A knot formed in her stomach; it twisted tightly, almost made her double over in pain.

No.

She kept her head up. Kept it high up and proud. The picture of strength.

He didn't get to make her submit.

He didn't get to have that much power — any power — over her.

She wasn't his plaything anymore.

Lucifer stood before her like he used to so many times before. The smile she used to find so lovely, that now made her want to vomit, was wide and bright on his mouth. He was still handsome, still good-looking, but, looking at him now, he didn't stand out much.

He was a boy, just like any other in this school.

Nothing special, really.

Just a boy who thought too much of himself and too little of others.

Rowena swallowed a lump that had formed at the back of her throat. A blink, and she was back in his room; his hands were on her neck, his fists rained down on her face, his heavy-soled feet rammed into her ribs. His face was in hers, and his words were daggers ripping into her, tearing her apart from the inside out.

Punch.

Kick.

Scream.

Rinse and repeat.

"Move," she spat, willing herself back to reality. Squeezing her fists tight to anchor herself.

It was in the past.

What he'd done to her, how he'd hurt her — it was all in the past.

Her wounds had healed. She had new friends. She had a girlfriend that gave a damn about her, who loved her for who she was. Who wasn't going to take advantage of her when she was at her weakest.

The memories still hurt, but they were just that — memories.

They weren't real.

Not anymore.

Lucifer ignored her. "I hear you've got a girlfriend," he said smugly.

Rowena wished she could wipe that bloody smile with her fist — or the thin, sharp heel of her shoe. Who hasn't? she thought. The entire damn school knew about the two of you.

Word traveled fast here.

Especially if you happened to be a redeemed mean girl.

Gossipers loved a good redemption story!

"It's none of your bloody business!" she snapped. He may have been playing nice, but she was way past that point. The devilish smile couldn't charm her anymore.

Lucifer put his hands up. "Relax. I come in peace."

Rowena snorted. He wouldn't know peace if it slapped him in the face.

"I'm just curious about your new… relationship."

Curious, my arse!

He'd come to harass, to bully, to hurt.

Rowena wasn't born yesterday. She knew him; she knew his kind, knew how they operated, how they ticked. There was never a just with them.

They always had an ulterior motive.

"Y/N good to you?"

The question was as smug as his smile. Rhetorical, but she couldn't resist replying, "Much better than you."

If it bothered him, he didn't show it. Instead, he pressed a hand to his heart dramatically. "Ouch. You wound me, babe."

"I am not your babe."

Not anymore.

Never again.

"Moved on quite quickly, haven't you?"

It wasn't quite as easy, but he didn't need to know that. "What can I say? Some people are more forgettable than others."

If only she could forget him.

If only she could erase all he'd put her through — the abuse, the manipulation — from her brain.

"Right. Is that why you look so scared?" She gulped as he said it, swallowed a breath. Lucifer chuckled. "I bet you still dream about me."

She'd had a nightmare or two; nothing she couldn't handle. They were long behind her. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Oh, but I know you, Rowena," Lucifer said, so damn sure of himself. "I know you still think about me."

"You know nothing!" she snapped.

"Still a firecracker, I see. That's my girl!"

"I am not your girl!" She was offended by the mere suggestion.

"You'll always be my girl," he said. "What we had doesn't just go away."

Och, it did.

It went away the second she turned her back on him and ran into your arms.

There was no more Rowena and Lucifer. No more power-couple. All that remained of them were memories; awful, painful, regretful.

"I bet she doesn't do it as well as I do," Lucifer said. "She doesn't have the means."

Rowena wanted to laugh. That was where he was going? Seriously? "Goodness, you really are pathetic!"

"Am I? Or are you just projecting? We both know the V has nothing on the D."

Laughter exploded from her mouth. "Darling, your D has nothing on a cheap dildo."

Not quite true, but the remark did its job. Lucifer narrowed his eyes, mouth tight, forehead vein popping. "You're a whore."

Was that the best he could come up with?

"All that talk about friendship, when in reality, you were fucking her behind my back." He stepped forward. Got in her face. His warm breath on her skin made bile rise up to her throat.

The last time he was this close, he had hit her. He had hit her and beat her and marked her for days — weeks — to come.

That was then, Rowena reminder herself. This was now. He wouldn't dare pull anything like that in front of so many people. He was quite a traditional boy, in that regard. All closed doors and a nice boy facade. Mustn't let the neighbors see.

Didn't make her feel any better. Didn't make the fear in her bones, cold as the snow-coated streets outside, fade away.

He may not have been able to do anything physically, but he still had his second best weapon — his tongue, sharp enough to hurt, to main, to rip apart.

"I wish I was," Rowena said, holding her ground. Her hands balled into fists, knuckles taut, sheet-white. Her conscience was clear; she was a lot of things, but a cheater was not one of them. "Maybe I would have realized what rubbish you are sooner."

"Takes one to know one, babe," Lucifer said with a shrug because of course he did. What else would he say?

Rowena wasn't one to back away from a challenge. "Is that why you still believe I cheated? Projection is a hell of a drug."

"That was different." Of course it was. "I loved you."

She snorted. "I doubt you even know what the word means."

"Okay, you got me there," he said, the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk. "So I didn't love you. Can you blame me? I mean, look at you. Who in their right mind could love… that?"

Rowena swallowed. Once. Twice. Three times. He was a colossal bastard, but she couldn't deny the truth in his words. Who could love someone like her? Someone so cold, so dead inside, walking through the world with an iron mask on her face?

Who would dare love someone like that?

You.

You did.

You dared to try, and you grew fond of her.

You fell in love with her.

The first person in… how long was it?

The first person ever.

Maybe that was her fault. She hadn't exactly made it easy for people to get close to her. She pretended and lied and pushed away anyone who dared step too close.

She wasn't the easiest person to love.

Impossible, almost.

But, she knew with her entire being, from the depths of her soul, she didn't deserve what Lucifer had done to her. She didn't deserve to be cheated on and abused. She didn't deserve to be betrayed.

The relationship they'd had was toxic from the start, but the blame wasn't solely on her.

"Still, what we had was special," Lucifer added. "You can't deny that."

Rowena certainly thought it was special.

At the time.

She knew better now.

That relationship had potential for greatness, but it never got to blossom.

"It was a waste of a year of my life," she said, urging — pleading — her voice to remain steady, not to break under the pressure.

"You say that like you could've done better. We both know that's not true. I made you, Rowena."

As if she hadn't heard that one before. It still hurt as much as the first time. She grit her teeth. "Is this the part where you say you can ruin me? At least do me a courtesy of being original, will you? Because this is getting tedious."

"Oh, I can do more than that." His voice was slick as poison. Deadly to the core. Shivers spilled down her spine. "You don't get to ruin my life and get away with it."

Another fit of laughter escaped her mouth. "I ruined your life?"

He had some nerve to even suggest that.

He'd hurt her so much, and somehow — by some insane troll logic — she was the one at fault?

"You almost killed me!" she snapped.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic!"

"Dramatic? I could barely walk! It took me weeks to heal!"

"And whose fault was that?" he retorted. "If you weren't running around with that dyke behind my back, ruining my reputation, none of that would've been necessary!"

Necessary?

That was his excuse — he'd beaten her within an inch of her life because it was necessary?

He stepped forwards. She backed away. He kept going, kept advancing on her until her back slammed into the wall. Hig big, massive body towered over her. He pressed his hands to the wall on either side of her, trapping her, caging her like an animal.

Rowena's heart raced. Panic shot through her, flooded her veins, sent her nerves into overdrive. He wouldn't hit her. Right? Not here. Not now. He wouldn't dare.

Only, he totally would.

He was Lucifer Shurley. Charming. Charismatic. Popular. The principal's son.

Rules didn't apply to boys like him.

"Get away from me!" Rowena found it in her to bark.

He ignored her. "I see you're still at it. I won't let you get away with it. You don't get to throw me away for a nobody."

Yet, that was exactly what she did.

Happily so. Proudly.

And she would do it again in a heartbeat.

"Fuck you!" she told him, looking him straight in the eyes. She tried to push him away, only for him to smack her hands away. A small girl like her was no match for a giant like him.

"You're adorable," he said condescendingly.

She wanted to spit in his face.

She was about to, when a familiar, unexpected voice said, "What's going on here?"

Dean Winchester, in the flesh. Looking like he wanted to punch something (or someone). His usual mode.

Rowena met his eyes in a silent, wordless plea. Get him away, her glance said. Please. Pathetic, but what else did she have left? She couldn't get rid of Lucifer on her own. Couldn't free herself. Couldn't do anything other than feign strength that had left her the moment he blocked her way.

She hoped with everything she had that Dean understood.

If he was here to gloat, to throw more accusations…

"Just old lovers having a nice, little chit-chat," Lucifer said, the charming, thousand-watt smile back on his mouth.

Dean wasn't fooled. "Really? And she's okay with that?"

"Why wouldn't she be?"

Lucifer hand brushed against the top of her head in a caress.

Rowena flinched.

"You okay with that, Rowena?"

She shook her head.

That was enough for Dean. He took a step forward, menacing, face serious as death. "Right. How about you step away?"

Lucifer immediately put his hands up in surrender. "Wow, wow, okay! Chill, dude. No need to be so serious. We were just talking. Honest."

Rowena scurried away, putting as much distance between them as possible. Dean stepped in front of her. He was tall, looming, a protective statue she felt strangely safe with. She didn't trust him — she didn't like him, and the feeling was very mutual — but she knew he wouldn't hurt her. That wasn't his way.

She'd heard stories about him. He went through girls like laundry. Bedded everything female with a pulse that gave him the time of the day. Stole hearts and broke them all the same.

They all had one thing in common — he respected the girls he'd been with. Not a single one had a complaint about his behavior. Those he didn't sleep with held him in high regard, thought him one of the good jocks.

Dean Winchester was a lot of things, but he respected girls.

He wouldn't let something happen to Rowena, no matter how much he hated her.

Or so she liked to think.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Aye," she replied. Shaken up, but she'd had worse.

"She doesn't wanna talk to you," he said.

"It was kinda a one sided conversation," Lucifer conceded. "A monologue, really. For the most part. But it was fun! I swear."

"I told you to leave me alone," Rowena said. "You're not supposed to be talking to me."

He wasn't supposed to be anywhere near her.

That was the arrangement her mother had made with the principal.

Rowena had declined to press charges for the abuse, and her mother had made it clear that, if Lucifer were to come anywhere near her daughter, those charges would be filed. Rowena had readily agreed to that arrangement. She didn't want to deal with the police and the court; all she'd wanted was to forget, to move on, to heal and start anew. To get away from it all for she was still reeling from the revelations she'd been given and it was too much — way too much — and too soon.

"You gonna tell your mommy on me?" Lucifer said in a childish voice.

"I will send you to bloody prison!" Rowena snarled.

A few heads turned amidst the rush to classes, the bell seconds from ringing. She glared at each and every one of them, urging them to run away. She wasn't in the mood for another public drama.

"Ooh, I'm terrified," Lucifer taunted.

"Why don't you take a hike?" Dean said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Come on, man! That's harsh!" Lucifer whined at the same time as the bell sounded. "On second thought, you're right. I should get going." He grinned, then winked at Rowena. "See ya later, Red. This isn't over."

She let out a long, hard breath she'd been holding as he walked away.

As far as she was concerned, it was over. She had no intentions of talking to him again. If he were to pull the same stunt, she was ready to make good on her mother's threat.

Lucifer Shurley had no business being anywhere near her personal space.

She didn't want him there.

She wasn't interested in his stories or his little threats.

He was her past, a history as tragic and awful as any other.

It wouldn't be repeated.

Never again.

"You sure you're okay?" Dean asked, shaking her to reality. She looked up to find his eyes on her; looking her over, scanning every inch of her. Concern was etched into his stern face, imprinted in his skin like a permanent tattoo.

Was he genuinely worried?

Or was this part of his good boy reputation?

"Aye," Rowena said again. "He didn't do anything."

He nodded, relieved.

"Rowena! Hey — what's going on?"

You were suddenly there, emerging from a crowd with a book in your arms. You stared at her, then at Dean, suspicion crawling over your face like a shadow.

A rush of relief swept over Rowena at your presence.

Things were okay.

She was okay.

Everything was okay now that you were here.

Her lips widened into a smile. Yours returned it, albeit nervously, confused.

"Yes, I was just—" Rowena started to explain, only to be cut off by Dean.

"Lucifer was here."

You blinked. "Lucifer?" The implication dawned on you. "Oh, my god! Are you okay?"

"I am," Rowena assured you, taking your hands — warm, loving — into hers. Your fingers squeezed as if your life depended on it. "He was just being Lucifer. Talking nonsense."

"Did he hurt you?" Your tone made it clear he would regret it if he did.

Rowena didn't doubt it. She shook her head. "No. He just talked. Made threats. The usual."

"What kind of threats?"

She sighed. "He said this isn't over."

"The hell it isn't! We should go to the principal right now."

"And tell him what? That his son was mean to me?" She scoffed. "Let it go. It's not worth it."

Your expression softened. "He doesn't get to do that to you."

Goodness, you loved her! You loved her so much. She could see it in your face, could hear it in the softness of your words.

What did she do to deserve that?

What did she do to deserve you?

"If he does it again, I will report, okay?" Rowena suggested.

"Fine," you conceded. "So long as you're okay."

"I am. I promise." She pecked you on the mouth to prove it, earning her a big, happy grin. "I'm not made of glass, Y/N."

"I know," you told her. "But, as your girlfriend, it's my duty to look after you."

"Shall I start paying you to guard me?" she teased.

You chuckled. "Totally. I should start charging my bodyguard services."

"Hey," Dean said, breaking the banter. "I wanna say I'm sorry."

You scowled, not quite buying it. "Are you?"

"Yeah." It was just one word, but there was so much sincerity in it. So much genuine regret. "I shouldn't have said the things I said."

"You were a dick."

"I know."

"Out of line."

"I know." He swallowed. "Rowena, I was wrong about you. I'm sorry."

Rowena nodded, offering a smile. He'd been a colossal numbnut, but she understood his suspicions. If someone had told her she would join your group of friends and abandon hers a couple of months ago, she would have laughed in their face.

Her redemption, so to speak, was fast. The others had adjusted quickly, but it was only natural Dean needed some time.

Granted, he could have handled it better. However, his apology seemed sincere, genuine.

If everyone could give her a chance, she didn't see why she couldn't give him one.

"I don't wanna hear anymore bullshit," you said firmly.

Dean nodded. "No more bullshit."

"Okay." You flashed him a smile, a big, bright one.

He reciprocated. A moment passed in silence, then he said, "I think we're all late to class."

Honestly, class was the last thing on Rowena's mind at the moment.

You seemed to share the sentiment. "Wanna cut?" you asked her.

"Naughty girl," she said with a wink. "I don't see why not."

It was the last class of the day, anyway.

The sooner the two of you got to Wonderland, the better.

"You guys have fun," Dean said.

"You're staying?" you asked, quirking up an eyebrow, disbelieving.

"I cut yesterday. And the day before." He grinned proudly. "Gotta stay a few times, right?"

You chuckled. "Enjoy."

"You know me. I love school."

Right.

Same way as Rowena loved her former friends. And knock-off shoes. And pork rinds.

The three of you said your goodbyes, and then you and her were out the door.

Hand in hand, headed for Wonderland.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @shadowgirl-vsb @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @gaysnakess @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @ruthieconnells @evil-regal-vampiress @collectorofsecretsandsouls @angel-e-v-a @tasyahilker @a-queen-and-her-throne @carryon-doctor-lock

[emiliachrstine]

late night talk

summary: After losing their father, the siblings enjoy a night filled with alcohol and tears.  characters: madison rogers, john rogers word count: 1785 Notes: It’s not perfect but I really wanted to get some angst out there because I love torturing my ocs. Also I know the summary sucks, please don’t come at me!

tag list: @chuck-hansens, @samwilsonns, @kea-jones, @luucypevensie, @chantelroyal, @dieorfight​

[CLICK HERE IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED]

Madison pushed her glass towards John, signaling for him to give her a refill. He did just that, filling the glass halfway and then poured him one more as well. The two drank silently, both casting solemn glances around their childhood home. It felt different being here now. It no longer had that warmth and security. No, it felt cold and empty. The mere action nearly brought Madison to tears. She swallowed down what was left of her drink and sucked in a breath. “It’s so quiet.” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper. She glanced up at John, who was staring at her with glazed eyes. “I keep thinking Dad’s gonna walk through that door any minute.” She said, sparing a quick glance at the front door. 

John kept his eyes focused on her, not permitting himself to indulge in the same mindset as her. No, he couldn’t. It would drive him crazy. But as he sat there, John found himself agreeing with her. She was right. The house was too quiet for his liking. Usually, his parents would have a vinyl playing on their record player. John eyed the record player in the living room, wanting so badly to walk over and put one on. But he didn’t have the strength. All of his energy had been sucked out of him. Ever since they buried Steve, neither could bring themselves play music. All of the records in the house reminded them too much of their parents. It was too soon for that kind of nostalgia. 

John finally allowed his eyes to wander around the room. They immediately settled on a family photo, situated on one of the end tables. He pressed his hand to his mouth, choking back the knot that had formed in his throat. 

“You think they’re together?” 

Madison’s question made John center his focus. He gave himself a few more seconds to gather himself before looking over at her. Her eyes were red, brimming with tears and he saw her lips tremble. “What do you mean?” He cringed at hearing how hoarse his voice was--the way it faltered at the end. Dammnit, keep yourself together. 

“Mom and Dad,” she clarified. “Do you think they’re together now… in Heaven?” 

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, then gave a shrug. “Yeah, I mean that’s what everyone believes.” John felt his stomach twist in a knot, his answer was so cavalier. He didn’t mean for it to be. But the question threw him so far off. He wasn’t sure how to respond to it.

Madison reached for the bottle and poured out a decent amount into her glass. For a moment, she sat in silence, staring at the liquid and thinking about her question. “What if there’s no such thing?” There was no response from John, prompting her to continue. “What if there’s no Heaven… what if when we die there’s just nothing. No paradise. No afterlife, just emptiness.” 

“Why are you even thinking about that, Madison?” John interrupted, he felt his stomach twist at having to hear her talk about it. After just losing their dad, that was the absolute last thing he wanted to talk about. 

“Because it scares me.” She admitted, tears finally spilled onto her cheeks when she looked up at him. “We were always told that we would see our loved ones again, that we would be reunited with them. What if it’s all a lie? What if Heaven was something we created to help us deal with grief, to help make some sense of it. It’s comforting when you think about reuniting with them once you’ve passed. The idea of mom and dad being together again is comforting. But what if it’s all bullshit?” 

John leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, then washed his hands down his face. “Madison,” 

“I don’t want it to be bullshit,” she continued. “I want it to be real. I want to see mom and dad again, I want to see Uncle Tony and Aunt Nat, I just--” She was cut off by a sharp intake of breath. Her hands flew up to cover her face in a vain attempt to prevent John from seeing her cry. But he’s seen it all. “I miss them,” she barely managed to say those words before her body was wracked by a violent sob. “I miss them… I want them back.”

John immediately reached over and took hold of Madison’s hand. She turned her hand so that her hand was firmly resting in his. The two didn’t say anything. John remained quiet so that Madison could have her moment, his grip tightening every time he felt her shake from a sob. Tears burned at the back of his eyes, his chest ached at hearing his sister breakdown. He wanted to join her. He wanted to cry out and curl into a ball. Like he did when he was a child. 

He ran a hand down his face, feeling that his cheeks were wet. When had he started crying? 

Madison finally gathered herself and sucked in a few deep breaths. She had to pull herself together. She felt as if she had been crying non-stop and, frankly, she was exhausted. Madison scoffed at herself, thinking about how ridiculous she must look and sound. Her hand still clung onto John’s, afraid to let go--fearing that she would break down again if she did. “I’m so stupid.” She said, wiping away the stains on her cheeks.

“No,” John shook his head. “You’re not.” 

“No, I am.” She responded and huffed out a wet laugh before continuing. “I was naive… I always thought that Dad was gonna be with us forever.” A painful smile crossed her lips when she finally allowed herself to look at her brother. “I thought it was gonna be the three of us for… a long time.” 

“It’s okay,” John’s thumb rubbed soothing circles on her hand. “Because I thought that same thing.” 

Madison hummed and raised her glass, the smile was still evident, “Look at us being absolute suckers.” She said before emptying the entire glass. 

“Our Dad was Captain America, he was larger than life--makes sense that we would think like that.” 

“He escaped death once by being frozen in the ice for seventy years, you’d think he could’ve avoided death at all costs.” 

John went to reach for the bottle, frowning when he saw that it was empty. He got up to retrieve a new bottle from the cabinet. He pulled the whiskey bottle out and unscrewed the lid, pausing momentarily when he noticed a photo of his parents on the refrigerator. He pulled the photo off and turned it over, the date October 2015 was scribbled on the back in his mother’s recognizable handwriting. When John sat back down at the table, he handed the photo over to Madison who took it after hesitating. 

“I found that on the fridge,” John said, pouring out another round for them both. He could only guess the photo was taken on some kind of trip they went on together. “I don’t remember ever seeing that photo up there.” 

“Dad must’ve put it up not too long ago,” Madison smiled as she examined the photo, then turned it over to read the date. “This was well before I was born.” 

Looking at photos of their parents before they were born, was always a strange experience for Madison. She always thought of them as Mom and Dad which was normal. But there was a time when they weren’t her parents. When they were just two people who, under very unlikely circumstances, found their way to each other and fell in love. It was a rather unconventional love story, one that Jacqueline lamented to her daughter when she was much older. She heard it all. All the good and all of the bad, including the chaos that went down when Jacqueline was pregnant with her. She knew about the way her parents hurt each other, how Steve wasn’t there when Madison was born due to poor choices on both her parent’s parts. The relationship wasn’t perfect, what relationship is? Despite the ups and downs, Madison was always sure of how much her parents loved each other. 

“You know when we lost Mom… Dad wasn’t the same anymore,” she placed the photo down, keeping her gaze focused on it. “He didn’t smile as much, didn’t listen to his records. The only time he was ever happy was if we were with him. But I saw it every time I was with him. He wasn’t the same after she died. It’s like he lost a part of himself. The only thing he wanted was to be with her again.” 

Losing their mother was already painful enough. But Madison and John would agree that it was worst having to witness their father grieve the loss. Steve became withdrawn, unwilling to hold up conversations. Sam and Bucky tried their best to pull him out of it. To get him focused on other things, even getting him to help plan a few of their missions. Steve would help with the planning but it did nothing to pull him from his grief. 

“He just needs time,” Bucky said to both Madison and John. “The only thing you can do for him is just… be there when he needs you.” 

It was a long and painful process for the three of them. While it did get better, they never fully got over what happened to Jacqueline. Then again, grief isn’t something that can be forgotten. 

John’s eyes lingered on the photo, his teeth bit down on his lip in an effort to keep himself in check. God, he really didn’t want to cry anymore. He’s done enough of that the last few days. But like his sister, he missed them. They didn’t deserve to have them taken away so soon. He wanted them back. “I hope you’re right,” John twirled his glass and looked up to see his sister giving him a confused look. “I hope you’re right and that there is a place we go to when we die… because I hate the idea of mom and dad not being together again.” 

Madison reached for her brother’s hand again, already feeling a sting in her waterline. “Guess we won’t know the truth until we bite the dust.” Madison raised her glass, prompting John to do the same. 

They gave a silent toast in honor of the people they lost. For Tony. For Natasha. For their parents. And to the hope that one day they’ll see them all again. 

[glowstickhaloboy]

i’ve committed to my format with raphael!crowley and i’ll die with it, too. AND IM SORRY ITS SO LONG.

(also the show uses he/him pronouns for michael, i believe, and i’ve chosen to do so as well bc i think its neat)

((ALSO, if you have no idea what the context is for this post, its a semi-continuation of this series))

sometimes, there is a gap. gabriel will turn to express a half-thought, and find himself wondering who he meant to speak with. there’s no one there.

three facts have remained for six thousand years: the first maintains that a brother is a brother. the second that a traitor is a traitor. and the third fact concludes that only one of those things may become the other. there is no place for traitors in heaven. and there is no merit in dwelling on thoughts of what is no longer possible.

gabriel likes efficiency--advancements that break no mould. he is the safest bet in any given room. protocol and principles, that’s what he’s made of, and he sticks to them rigidly because it’s... easy. easy as a miracle from the human’s point of view. to break ranks is to break through the mission statement of heaven into a gray area, and the walls upstairs are always freshly painted white. gabriel makes sure of it.

michael likes results. there is nothing more beautiful than a bottom line. bottom line: the world ends. bottom line: the angels win. bottom line: god no longer does the heavy lifting the way angels do, and so what the angel’s do in god’s absence is not to be held against them. they were, after all, stepping into a job they were not qualified to handle with little to no notice. a bottom line is beautiful because it makes simple a messy world.

bottom line: there is mess. bottom line: angels remove the mess.

bottom line: raphael would have complicated that.

no, michael does not miss his fallen sibling. and he refuses to talk about it. and he makes sure that gabriel does not talk about it, either. after all, what is there to talk about? what’s done is done, and they’ve got their hands full juggling someone else’s job, but if they don’t do it, then it isn’t done, and the world ends the bad way. where no one wins because they’re all dead.

gabriel is the leader. michael is the strategist. between them, they can scrounge enough brain power together to cover for raphael, who was meant to be the creative one.

too creative. creative enough to start... asking questions.

too feeling, always too feeling. “passionate” they used to call him. but then what happened, happened, and “passionate” became a roadside cliff in need of a guard rail. michael and gabriel were that guard rail. their fallen sibling was a cautionary tale.

the thing about falling is that sometimes you see it coming, and sometimes it blindsides you. lucifer’s was not a slippery slope, but a gradual and palpable decline. for years before, whenever he’d walk out of a room, the angels left inside would put their heads together and mutter about what’s the almighty going to do about that one. raphael’s, on the other hand, was blink-and-you-miss-it. he was here one day, gone the next. there wasn’t even the time to think about whether you wanted to say goodbye.

(if he decided to be a traitor, after all, then you needn’t regard him as a brother.)

and time went on. despite the shock, the world kept turning, and the stars kept burning, and nobody said raphael’s name. not for six thousand years.

it was hard to keep up with new demons. bad enough having to encourage every baby-faced cherub day-to-day (but not too hard, otherwise they ran the risk of becoming “passionate.” passionate didn’t matter. just loyalty. loyalty keeps heaven heaven.) the first time gabriel hears the name “crowley” he thinks nothing of it.

“a demon?” he asks sandalphon. “check and see who’s available, sort of... low and on the same level. no need to exert the effort of someone actually important on a simple demon.”

sandalphon agrees easily and makes to depart, but gabriel sticks up a hand, thoughtful. hold on.

“aziraphale,” he says. “he’s on earth, isn’t he? have him take care of it. perfect busy work for someone so eager to please.”

sandalphon smiles gold.

meanwhile, michael? michael doesn’t even remember. deleted the name from his mind the second it first entered. unimportant. bottom line: demon.

but after the armageddon that never was, the name finally sticks. and no matter what michael might have said at that demon’s trial, there is nothing more dangerous than an unchecked enemy. he keeps an eye out. and for awhile, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. just a never-was-an-angel and a soon-to-be-demon spending too much time together on a planet that was never theirs.

bottom line: ?

so michael goes to gabriel for help.

“i need to understand what happened between these two,” he says. “make some sense of it. find out how dangerous they really are.”

and gabriel turns to the left, and frowns in thought, like he is surprised to find no one there.

“gabriel?”

“it’s nothing. just a passing... are you sure there is cause for concern? they’re two outcasts. nothing more. no threat to us.”

“i would like to... speak with them.”

“then speak we shall.”

they arrive on earth. it is easy to find aziraphale because he never left the bookshop.

“hold on,” gabriel cautions as they approach the door. the sign says closed. there’s an intimidation as hot as hellfire emanating from it.

“do not let them see your cowardice,” michael chides, and pushes through. bottom line: answers are needed.

the door creaks and cuts off two voices. and two figures appear.

“oh!” says crowley, glancing sideways at aziraphale. “look at that. the gang’s all here.”

aziraphale looks momentarily stunned, which only makes michael’s brain fight harder to understand. he pushes forward.

“crowley. aziraphale.”

aziraphale bristles. “i do believe the sign said closed.”

“we are not here to indulge your human fantasy. we have come to--”

“ask for the towel back?” crowley interrupts. “no good. it’s long gone. i’ll pay for another one. do you take updog currency?”

“what’s updog?” gabriel asks.

“nothing, but i do deserve a high five for that one.”

“not now, dear,” aziraphale whispers to him.

crowley squares his shoulders, glaring through the two archangels. “right, straight to business then. we don’t care why you came. leave now, and we might let you go alive.”

aziraphale begins to react in astonishment, but michael and gabriel beat him to it.

“you should not threaten angels so easily,” gabriel says.

“i’ll do what i want,” says crowley. “fair’s fair, right? i’m just dishing it out as good as i get. doing as you do.”

“crowley,” aziraphale protests.

“where do you get the nerve?” michael all but growls.

“oh, probably from my time in heaven.”

if anyone else in the room were the snake, there would have been hissing. “don’t invoke that holy place,” gabriel says.

“you lost the privilege,” says michael.

“geez!” crowley throws up his hands. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say this was personal! come on, are we going to forget the past that easily?”

“you have no past.”

“you are forgotten.”

“you’d think we three grew up with me hogging the telly, eh?” crowley asks aziraphale, the same way a zookeeper teaching schoolchildren might ask an obvious question to a turtle.

and michael and gabriel are blindsided.

“oh.” crowley tilts his head. “you really didn’t know. funny, that. almost.”

“it can’t be,” says gabriel.

“impossible,” says michael.

“hello,” says crowley, twirling five fingers, and then settling on showing them just one.

“demon,” says michael.

“oh, yes!” says crowley.

“but also,” says gabriel.

“oh yes...” crowley finishes.

he’s scowling now. darker. his anger crackles into lightning on the street outside, and black wings unfurl like looming shadows. michael and gabriel stare at them as though trying to discern something underneath. an origin to the stain, or a clean patch.

michael blinks first. bottom line: demon. he says, “you will not expect any special treatment from us.”

crowley shakes his head. “i was never special.”

(it may be that gabriel flinches at that. too long ago. too hard to tell.)

aziraphale, certainly, makes a noise at the back of his throat, but crowley shakes his head the slightest amount. an indication to let him handle this.

“you just can’t quit betraying your side, can you?” michael asks. “what did you hope to achieve? you are an abomination. you were cast out for a reason. and you will never be allowed back in.”

gabriel double-takes, but still says nothing. he looks like a man found on the side of the road with no memory of how he got there. lost. confused. aged.

“i don’t want that,” crowley says. “i’m better than that, now.”

“better than heaven? blasphemy,” michael chides.

“demon,” crowley replies.

and gabriel can no longer keep silent.

“you let me speak with you at the human airbase,” he says, agitated, his purple eyes glowing slightly. is he needing to keep his emotions at bay? what could he possibly feel for crowley? surely they were no longer each other’s kin. “we looked each other in the eyes, raphael.”

“crowley,” crowley and michael correct him at the same time.

gabriel looks appropriate aghast at himself. “crowley,” he amends, and then continues, “this is--i mean, you were--you are--this is just evidence of how far one may fall.”

“funny, i was about to say the same to you.”

“you have no authority to judge us!” michael says, seething. “do not forget your place. if you are not an angel now, you never were. not at heart. not truly. give me one good reason not to smite you where you stand.”

aziraphale steps in front of crowley, chin raised high, and says immediately, “i won’t let you.”

“angel, pl--”

crowley puts a gentle hand on aziraphale’s shoulder, but even that, aziraphale shrugs off.

“gabriel,” he says. “perhaps you can understand this. crowley has changed, yes. he is no longer an angel.”

“he doesn’t feel love the way we do,” michael interjects, and crowley’s head pokes out from behind aziraphale.

“when’s the last time you had a warm, fuzzy feeling, then?”

“michael, i believe i must depart,” gabriel says softly. he still looks like he’s been stranded inside a life that he does not call his.

michael says, “yes, do.”

and gabriel disappears.

aziraphale sighs and steps back at crowley’s side, holding crowley’s wrist tightly. crowley takes the hand and squeezes back.

“guess some people just can’t take the heat,” aziraphale mutters.

crowley shrugs. “well, you know what they say. if you can’t take the heat, stay out of the boiling sulphur pools. maybe he did what’s right by him. maybe seeing me just scared him a little too badly.”

“angels fear nothing,” says michael, even as his eyes hint toward something different. his jaw works. he takes a moment to control himself and then asks, “is this how you were able to withstand the holy water?”

aziraphale quietly snorts. crowley squeezes his hand again, this time in warning, and says, “you didn’t really think i was going to answer that one, did you? and might i remind you that all i asked that day was to be left alone.”

“you may think you still belong in this world,” says michael, shaking his head and glaring at their conjoined hands, “but you do not. and aziraphale, one day you will pay dearly for your choices. fear the future. for when that day comes, you, too, will be erased from heaven. anditcan’tcometoosoon.”

the breath rushes out of him, and michael, too, is gone.

the bookshop stands sturdy and proud. crowley swings up his and aziraphale’s hands, kissing the back of aziraphale’s, and loudly declares, “well, that was dramatic. weren’t we going to go and look at a cottage this afternoon, love?”

[ask-blueeyedpops]

Character INFO

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This page will give you a brief introduction to all the characters in the AU so far. It should hopefully give you a good, quick look into the character’s personality, interests and bios. More characters will be added as the story progresses.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack Shurley

Species: Human (Hunter)

Personality: Jack is an innocent teenager who’s very trusting (a bit too much at times; which gets him in trouble during hunts.) He wants the best for everybody and is a very determined and hard worker.

Likes/Dislikes: Jack likes classic rock but like his dad, also likes ABBA. His favourite song is “Unopened Windows” by Set It Off.

Bio: After his mother died, Cas had raised Jack on the road. His dad constantly tried to give him a normal life – school, friends, prom – but Jack refused to accept it. He’d seen what his dad could do and wanted to help; he wanted to make sure no one else had to grow up like he did, and so Cas (reluctantly) taught Jack how to hunt. As a result, Jack has little to no friends and his dating life is nonexistent.

Castiel Shurley (Cas)

Species: Human (Hunter)

Personality: Castiel can be overly-protective but he’s also a really selfless person. At first, he can be blunt and presents a cold exterior but in reality he has a big heart and tends to think about others more than himself.

Likes/Dislikes: Cas is a bit attached to his Chevrolet Impala, but he also likes cats, board games, Twister, the band ABBA and burgers.

Bio: Cas’ dad had left him at a young age. His eldest brothers (with the exception of Gabriel) raised both him and his brother Balthazar to be hunters so that they could all search for their dad together. As Cas grew older he became tired of the hunting life and later abandoned it all together to settle down with the love of his life and his wife; Kelly Kline. Cas’ elder brothers resented him for his choice, whereas Balthazar still remained loyal and supported his younger brother. Gabriel remained neutral on the subject; the two of them are on okay terms but they didn’t contact each other much after that. Some time after giving birth to Jack, Kelly suffered a horrible death, leaving Cas to raised Jack alone.

Raphael Shurley (Ralph/Ralfe)

Species: Human (Hunter)

Personality: Ralph is creative and can be competitive, but he is also quite shy when you first meet him.. He has a vivid imagination and is very skilful at coming up with plans and solutions to problems. Ralph can be emotionally distant at times and like his brothers, won’t talk about his feelings.

Likes/Dislikes: Ralph loves any sort of art medium; he loves to express his thoughts and emotions through his art. Ralph prefers doodling when he’s emotional because it’s the quickest way to get his feelings out and he doesn’t have to bottle them up like most of his brothers do.

Bio: Ralph was loyal to his father and loved him unconditionally. But once his father went missing, he was upset, and became more emotionally distant from everyone, deciding to side with Michael and Luci. He tagged along to help his 2 older brothers search, but eventually lost hope and accepted that he most likely won’t see his father again. He still continues to help them with, what he thinks, is their “pointless quest to find dad”. Ralph is the strategist in the group; he comes up with ideas/plans to find their dad despite having lost hope. In his spare time, when he’s not busy looking for their dad, he likes to put his skills in art to use and paints.

Dean (Squirrel)

Species: Angel (Fallen)

Personality: Dean’s emotions are all over the place due to his lack of experience with handling them. Nevertheless he’s pretty hopeful and can be very faithful towards the people he holds dearest to his heart.

Likes/Dislikes: There aren’t a lot of things that Dean likes but he did have a strong attachment to his wings. Cas’ impala later catches his eye too, but nobody’s noticed that yet… at least he doesn’t think so.

Bio: Angels are normally assigned humans to watch over - people to guide and protect. Usually angels are given troubled souls to steer back onto the right path and every angel is assigned a human to watch over (with the exception of Archangels). If an angel were to fail their duty as a guardian, they'd be punished severely by being stripped of their grace and being reborn as a human. Angels lack free will and are bound to their duties. Sam and Dean found it hard to accept this hard fact and wanted free will like humans did - to be able to make their own choices. They rebelled against heaven and fell down to Earth, with Dean possessing a vessel called Jensen Winchester and Sam possessing his brother, Jared Winchester. The two of them had disposed of the guardian angels watching over Jensen and Jared prior to their possession and later went on to change their names for safety. Their current aliases are ‘Dean’ and ‘Sam’. Their real identities are unknown.

Gabriel Shurley (Gabe)

Species: Human (Hunter)

Personality: Gabriel is reserved and lonely, he’s very reluctant to talk about his feelings. Despite this, he can be quite humorous once you get to know him and he enjoys a good prank.

Likes/Dislikes: Gabriel has a big sweet tooth and loves any type of sweets or pastries. He also enjoys watching meme/vine compilations in his spare time.

Bio: Once his dad had left them, Gabriel watched his family fall apart as his brothers turned against each other. Unlike his siblings, Gabriel refused to take a side and stood in the middle during the conflict. He doesn't side with Mike (like Luci and Ralph/Ralfe did) and he doesn't side with Cas (like Balthazar did). It's because of this reason that Gabriel remained neutral when he discovered that Cas didn't want to hunt anymore after he’d married Kelly. Due to his broken family, Gabriel had a very lonely childhood and thus grew up to be reserved and closed off from everyone. He usually hunts alone and fills his time by taking jobs.

Sam (Moose)

Species: Angel (Fallen)

Personality: Sam can be oblivious, especially to passionate or strong emotions, and this is mainly due to his lack of experience with those types of feelings. He’s smart and strategic, the thinks logically but he’s also sympathetic and soft. Sam has a heart that’s as good as gold and, in contrast to his brother, empathises easily with humans.

Likes/Dislikes: Sam loves books. Literature is one of his most favourite things that has been created by humanity – he marvels at all the creative stories and logical explanations that’s been created by human minds. For some odd reason, Sam loves WiFi and WiFi loves him back too because it seems to follow him everywhere. Sam’s also grown attached to one of Cas’ older brothers; Gabriel.

Bio: (Sam’s bio is the same as Dean’s.”)

Michael Shurley (Mike)

Species: Human (Hunter)

Personality: Mike is an honest and passionate man. He’s decisive and is usually the one to take charge in most situations. Out of all the brothers, he’s the most responsible.

Likes/Dislikes: Although Mike is responsible and usually takes charge, he hates the pressure and stress that comes with making all the decisions and making sure his brothers are safe and sound. Mike loves suits, he finds them attractive and sees a certain charm in them.

Bio: Mike is the oldest amongst the siblings and idolised his father greatly - despite his many mistakes. While he wasn't Chuck's favourite like Luci was, he still adored his father and was devastated when Chuck left them. He was very young and was forced to become a father, mother, and brother to his siblings. Although it's been years since Chuck disappeared, Mike is still hopeful and determined to track him down and bring him home to his family.

Kelly Shurley (deceased)

Species: Human

Personality: Kelly was a sweet and selfless woman. She was very caring and hopeful. She had a positive outlook in life and was always full of energy. She could be reckless and impulsive at times; she would often think with her heart rather than her mind and she could be very empathetic.

Likes/Dislikes: Kelly loved to play the piano, she wasn’t amazing at it but it brought her a lot of joy. She loved her husband and son a lot and would’ve done anything to protect them. Kelly hated assembling furniture though, it took so much effort and she’d end up frustrated and fed up.

Bio: Kelly was a hunter and was introduced to the hunting life at an early age by her parents. She was working a case when she ran into Castiel, and the two eventually clicked and grew closer as friends. Continuing to run jobs, she would often call Cas for help and vice versa until they became hunting partners; and later on, they would fall for each other and get married. Cas slowly stopped taking jobs, but Kelly still worked them like usual until she found out she was pregnant with Jack. It was after that that she finally abandoned the hunting life for her child's sake, and both Cas and her lived a relatively normal life from then on.

Lucifer Shurley (Luci)

Species: Human (Hunter)

Personality: Luci is narcissistic but also bottles up a lot of his feelings. He’s the most emotional one out of the Shurley brothers but refuses to talk about his feelings; he hides them behind sarcastic remarks and his some-what twisted humour.

Likes/Dislikes: Due to his narcissistic nature, It’s no surprise that Luci loves to be praised and given attention. He also adores his Gucci flip flops.

Bio: Luci is the second oldest out of all the siblings and was Chuck's favourite amongst them. He was praised and doted as a child, which expanded his ego to the size of Jupiter. Beneath his pride and sarcastic remarks, Luci still loves Chuck a lot, despite all the doubts he may have surrounding his father and whether or not they'll ever find him. Luci deals with the gritty and bloody things that they have to do to find their dad. While he, Mike, and Ralph/Ralfe were working a job, Luci stole some Gucci flip flops, and now he wears them everywhere. Some say they've become a part of his feet, because he almost never takes them off.

Balthazar Shurley

Species: Human (Hunter)

Personality: Balthazar is sarcastic and humorous. He’s very open and flamboyant but also caring. Balthazar idolises his little brother, Castiel, for stepping up against their older brothers and for choosing his own path. Balthazar cares for Cas a lot and is willing to help him out any way he can, but he often disregards his own health and well-being because of this.

Likes/Dislikes: Balthazar loves partying and dancing; he absolutely rocks the dance floor and enjoys going out and having fun. He loves having freedom and hates it when someone tries to restrict him.

Bio: As well as being the second youngest, Balthazar is also the most open out of all the brothers - he’s the most likely to talk about his feelings. Balthazar was too young to remember anything about Chuck and only grew up in the hunting life because of his brothers. As he grew older, he became neutral on the subject of their missing father. Of course, he’s still somewhat upset because of his father’s disappearance but doesn’t express or feel as hurt about it as his other brothers do. Throughout his life, Balthazar has always admired Castiel for his rebellious nature. Balthazar’s admiration only grew after Cas stood up to their brothers when they confronted him about his decision to drop out of the family business. Currently, Balthazar seems to idolise Cas and is willing to do anything to help his brother and take care of his well-being.

[mymusehatesme]

Castle of Glass

Chapter Seven: Prayer

Words: 1796

Summary: A Hell Gate has opened on Earth, so you and your siblings decide to defend humanity, inadvertently locking yourselves out of Heaven.  Now you must wander the Earth doing good deeds until your penance has been served.   Unfortunately, your attempt goes a little awry and you find yourself a prisoner of the man they call the Hollow King….  [Female reader, angel reader.]

Warnings: None

Inspiration was this post: https://beka-tiddalik.tumblr.com/post/160726927715/a-tradition

MASTERLIST                      SERIES MASTERLIST

"Ah, I- I am so sorry," you stammered, backing out of the room quickly and closing the door behind you.  When the latch clicked, you walked away as fast as was socially acceptable.

The image was burned into your eyes.  Sam and Ruby on his throne.  Her legs splayed over his, facing him.  His hands on her waist.  His crown on her head.  Her smug grin and his calculated, teasing one.

Closing your eyes and pressing the heels of your hands into them, you tried to scrub out the image.  Colors smeared across the blackness, but the image wasn't in your eyes anymore.  It was in your brain and it was lodged there like a splinter under a fingernail.

Or like a pitchfork through a leg.

Maybe more like a sword through a lung.

Her stupid smug grin as her attention flicked to you.

No.  You would not be bothered by this development, you determined, breathing in deeply to clear your head and altering your route to go to your chambers.  If she wanted him, she could have him.  He freed her from the Underground, after all.  It would be only normal for her to admire him.

Normal for her to try and make herself desirable.

Normal for her to try and seduce him.

You sighed and wondered if she had goaded you into feeling affection toward the Hollow King, only to shatter those false hopes with the situation she had masterminded.

Finally rounding the corner and seeing the door to your sanctuary, you allowed yourself to slow and enter your room calmly.  Jealousy was not becoming of an angel.

Jealousy was a base emotion reserved for mortals and demons.

You gently closed the door behind you and stood still for a moment.  Your traitorous mind brought back the image - focusing on Sam instead of Ruby this time.

His teasing grin was for her.  Testing.  Analyzing.  Curious.

Then he turned to you and… the smile faded.  Not happy.  Not analyzing.  Realizing.  He made a connection that you hadn't.

You shook your head again, loosening the memory and burying it for a later time.  Moving across the room, you picked up a book from your stack you loaned from his impressive library and sat in the chair next to the fireplace.

Hours later, there was a knock at your door.  "Lady (Y/N)," a strong, but muffled voice from the other side announced, "His majesty requests your presence."

To say you were surprised was understatement.  Dean had been coming to get you for a little while now, but it wasn’t him this time.

You closed the door behind you as followed the guard out, careful to not ask any questions.  He led you to the throne room (the Image pushed its way to the forefront of your brain and you did your best to beat it back) and opened the door, stepping to the side so you could enter.  He closed the door behind you, leaving you alone.

The room was quiet, its tapestries absorbing even the slightest echo from your footfalls as you approached the center of the empty room.  Were you waiting for him?  Had you gotten here before him?

What did he want with you?

"Lady (Y/N), I wish to apologize for the scene you walked in on," Sam's voice began.

You jumped and pinpointed the source of the sound.  He was sitting on a windowsill, crown rightfully upon his head, looking outside in deep contemplation.  When your initial terror subsided, you shook your head and put up your hands defensively.  "Your majesty, it is I who should be apologizing-"

"Please," he interrupted not yet looking at you, but instead closed his eyes in concentration, "please allow me to finish."  After he recognized your silence was acquiescence, he opened his eyes and continued, "I realized Ruby was attempting to manipulate the both of us after you walked in and I saw her reaction to you."  His posture was slumped a bit, as though he was trying to humble himself and ask for forgiveness, "She offered me her blood, saying it would make me stronger.  Then she crawled on top of me and tried to lower my defenses by increasing physical contact."

"And the crown on her-"  You clamped your mouth shut and your eyes widened as your face flushed.  Those words had risen from your tongue, unbidden and unwanted.  Stupid, stupid, you berated yourself, he owes you no explanation.  "I'm sorry," you retracted immediately, lowering your eyes to the floor, "That wasn't my place to ask, I'm sorry."

And just as quickly, he replied, "She lifted it from my head and placed it upon hers, asking how well it fit and if her crown would be as beautiful as mine when she became queen."  He was standing now, looking to you to gauge your reactions.

Shock took hold of your heart and you looked up to him in grateful surprise.

His expression was a little warmer than his usual stoniness, a little more open and sincere.  He was telling the truth and he was, indeed, sorry.  He nodded to himself and admitted, "That wasn't quite what she said, nor how she said it, but that was the gist of it."  Back to you, he continued, "I am telling you this because I believe a rift had appeared in our mutual trust and I wished to mend it."

But it hadn't been a rift.  It had been a chasm.  But that had been perceived on your end of the relationship, thinking he had merely been using you for power and influence when his true goals lay elsewhere.  You nodded.  "I appreciate your efforts," you acknowledged humbly, "But I do wish to repeat my statement earlier - it was not my place and I apologize for my… outburst.  Our relationship is strict in its guidelines and I fear I have veered from its original boundaries."

He appeared confused.  "How do you mean?"

You blinked.  No.  There was no way in Heaven or Hell that you were going to admit you were jealous of a demon to the king.  Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.  "Emotions, your highness," you said instead, "I am beginning to feel anger on your behalf; when you are insulted or disrespected, I feel anger."

More confusion.  "I… believe that is normal?"

Shaking your head, you confided, "No.  Not for me.  I do not feel such strong emotions as they easily overwhelm me and distract me.  Some of my siblings are very good at prioritizing their stimuli, but I, along with a few others, am not."

He blinked.  “You pride yourself on being distant?”

“No, sire, when I allow my emotions to be in control, I find that I am not a person I like” you explained.

He lowered his head and considered.  “Regardless, Ruby has overstepped her bounds and I cannot allow her to remain here unchecked.  She will return to the Underground and Crowley will send another demon to replace her.”

You nodded and gave a slight bow, shoving your happiness down a deep, dark hole where it wouldn’t show on your face.  “I appreciate your concern, sire,” you acquiesced, “Please let me know if I may be of assistance.”

Sam bowed his head and turned away to set his plans, dismissing you.

You couldn’t help but smile as you turned around and left the room.

Late that evening as you were walking through the garden, you were nearly knocked off your feet by a prayer.  It was comprised more of emotions and memories than words, but a prayer was a prayer.

"Y/N���"  Warm.  A feeling of having eaten/drank too much.  Dizzy.  Blood.   "Ruby…"  A weight over a body pinned to a bed.  "Please…"  A knife's sharp edge stained red.  Royal chambers out of focus.  A sickly familiar grin from a fuzzy face.  "Help…"

It hurt to fly.  It felt as though someone tightly grasped your wings at their base and then twisted slowly, firmly, in ways your wings weren't supposed to bend.  It hurt and it agonized and you felt as though you may die from such pain, but you landed in Sam's bedroom regardless.  Your teeth were gritted, you were hunched over slightly, and tears had welled up in your eyes.

Sam was half-sprawled over the bed, as though he had pushed.  Ruby was straddling him, one hand poised (holding him down, holding him still), and her other arm had a gash down the inside; her ruby red blood gushing from the wound and into Sam's mouth.  His eyes were rolled back and he was gagging on the blood being forced down his throat.

He was trying to fight, but he couldn't with her demonic powers holding him like a puppet on strings.

"Get off him," you growled in pained anger as you drew your angel blade from its holster under your half-skirt.

Her head spun as she realized there was an angel in the room and her dark hair spun about.  Then she smiled at you and laughed.  "You're too late," she said lightly, shaking her head and raising her eyebrows, "It's already done.  And when he wakes up, he'll be the most powerful human ever to walk this planet!"  She laughed again, giddy at her perceived victory.  Looking back to Sam with a fond expression, she sighed, "He'll be an excellent replacement for Crowley."

Everything hurt.  You were in too much pain to move.  So you reached down, down where you reserved your Grace for emergencies such as this - and you flung her across the room, intending to throw her out the window.  But you were too weak and she merely cracked her head against the stone floor.

Ruby made an inhuman screech as she climbed to her feet.  You placed yourself between the demon and S- the Hollow King.  She had clawed her way into the palace, weaseled her way into his trust and apparently his bedroom, and now you could not look at Sam as Sam your friend, but you had to be more objective.  He was the King of the Land of Embers and you were under his protection, just as he was under yours.

"You want to get to him?"  You bared your teeth and tightened your grip around your angel blade.  "You're gonna have to go through me."

Ruby huffed a laugh.  "You're wounded," she teased, drawing her own blade, "You're in pain, you can barely move.  What are you going to do to me?"

You didn't let the truth in her words bother you.  You took a defensive stance and held your blade as Raphael had taught you.  "As I said," you repeated tiredly, "you're gonna have to go through me."  

The demon smiled wickedly and rushed toward you.

[jdragon73]

Someday

Ever wonder what you are going to leave behind that would have true meaning to anyone? Not a material possession, something that is felt but not touched or learned and not owned. I do, I want to be able to leave a kind of life story with my children. I have been writing them letters every Christmas for the past five years, it is a look back on the year and the ups and downs that may have been and the accomplishments made. It is also a little slice of my life story as well as some advice or guidance. This letters include all the positive things I feel about them and see in them that they should know and see and feel for themselves. I want them to know that I always loved them and was proud of them no matter what life threw at them. I want them to know that I was understanding, compassionate, and honest. They should see that their mother allowed them to live yet if they ever needed a place to lean she was there. So I write, it is what I do best. Talking does not always portray what my heart needs to say, only the written word can be so true and honest for me. Once it is on paper and given away, there is no taking it back and there is something left to hold onto at the same time. So I write. One letter at a time I put my heart on paper and hand it over like a newborn baby. I have tears in my eyes as I write each individuals words and then I see the same ones in their eyes as they read them. I know that they know they are loved, wanted, and enough. Something I did not have as a child or young adult. I raised myself and could not love me.

I am including a letter that I am sharing so that others can understand what comes out when I sit and reflect for my child over 365 days and as I express my wishes, prayers, hopes for them in the next 365 days. Maybe one of you will decided to begin a journey also. Enjoy, feel free to comment, question, or send any concerns, please remain positive though the world has enough negativity in it already. Have a blessed day!

My Little Monkey,                                                                                          2019

           The past year has been full of choices for you, from going to school and deciding not to continue to the choice of getting a job. I have been so blessed to watch you grow and become your own woman. You continue to amaze me with the kind of grown up you are becoming. You are always thinking about what is best for you and your man and eventually what will be good for the family you want to create. I know that you really want to start on your way to having a family and you are over excited about having a baby, just take your time and know that God has a plan for you. You have been doing so well with getting yourself set up with a life and a home and a way to establish a place to bring your baby to and you are years ahead of where I was at the same age. The life you have is one that is fulfilling to you and I believe when I look at you that you truly are happy. You have a job you enjoy going to do, you are working on putting your house together so that you can move in and enjoy your own space, and you have a supportive man to stand by you and is willing to give you anything that will make you happy.  

         When I think about the kind of man I would want to choose for you I think I would have found an Drew for you. He has been so good to you and takes care of you even when you are being a butt. He would move heaven and earth for you, to give you whatever you wanted. I know that besides his momma you are the most important female in his life. My heart smiles when I think of the life you have created with him and it seems to be a destined relationship. You have found yourself a man that is all about you and I feel will be all about your children also. Which is a good thing because that means you did not go looking for someone like your father. Most little girls do and when they grow up without one they tend to find someone to take the place of the father in their lives. They will look for the older man who is controlling, demanding, and expects to do their own thing; you have found the right kind of guy. If Drew ever hurts you it will break my heart, (physically or emotionally hurt you). I would probably want to go hurt him for you and I know your sister and brother would. I do not see this ever happening though and I am grateful because when I go to sleep I don’t have to worry about if you are safe. I pray he continues to show you his love in all the ways you need him to.

         Denise always remember the family is everything, one day you will understand why I say this and why I want you and your brother and sister to be more social with each other. I know you all have your own lives and things going on and I know it’s hard to watch them with their babies and you are still working on creating your own however you are all grown and still need to find a way to spend time together and also to talk to each other. You need to find a way to include your family in your life, one day you will wake up and not know anything going on in their lives and it will be too late. I know you love them and you think of them and would do whatever you needed for them if they needed something or were in trouble, yet I would love to hear that you are going to hang out and watch movies with Jack or going shopping with Sunshine. I really want you to have what I didn’t get a chance to have. The choice for me was taken from me. I did not get to decide if I wanted to have a grown up relationship with my siblings that most have. I know the hurt and questions that come up later and I really don’t want for any of you to have that. Just please try to make an effort to spend more time with them. Jack does not like when you are not around for family events, like holidays and stuff. Because you all grew up sharing holidays and celebrating together for birthdays and all with me, before or after, yet it was when we were all together he wants to have that still. He knows you have to do things with Drew's family however you can still find time to be with your family. I do not push any of you to be with me anymore for holidays because I know that you all have more family now and just want you to be happy and know that I will always be here. When it comes to holidays and birthdays just try to reach out and set up a plan to get together with Jack and Sunshine too.  

         Your nieces and nephew will need you in their lives too. They will want to spend time with you and love for you to give them things they do not get from mom and dad. You are going to be the aunt that will have fun with them. You will be the one to have adventures with them and allow them to remain little children as long as they can be. They will need you to save them from rough times and to share their secrets with you. They are going to want to run to you when they fight with their parents and you have to be available for them. They all love you so much and get excited when they are going to see you. They ask for you and want to see you when they have not for a while. They miss you and they would love to have more time with you. You are going to be the cool adult to hang out with; I can just see it now. You can share life lessons with them in fun ways and they won’t even know you are teaching them something. You are going to be a role model for them and someone to look up to. I believe in the love you have for them and that it will always be special for you and them.

         You might have started out in this world as an unexpected surprise and had to survive through some tough times yet you have not let that hold you back and I am proud of you! You could have sat back and blamed me for everything bad that has happened to you and been mad at me because you don’t have a dad that is active in your life or even was a big part of your life, instead you decided to stand up and build yourself up. I know that I did the best I could for you and tried to give you the life you deserved and things you wanted. I did lots of things to do as much as I did and to give you what I did. I always believed that my time was more important than anything I could give you and tried to teach you that lesson. I hope you have grasped that idea and understand what it means so that you can carry it on and instill it in your children. You could lose everything tomorrow yet your family will still be here, to pick you up, love you through the pain, and begin again. In the next year I wish you all the best of what you want. I hope you are able to finish your home and start to create a nest to bring your babies too. I hope if you are happy and enjoying your job that you are still working and doing it and maybe even move up within the organization. I pray that the love you share with Andrew only continues to grow and flourish and that you two are happy for the rest of your days. When the time feels right and you are ready to have his last name and he is ready to take the serious and forever step to make you his true wife then I will give my blessing and give my baby to him.

         I am proud, amazed, blessed, and impressed to have you as my daughter.

         Merry Christmas my little monkey, I love you to the moon and back.

(Names were changed to protect the guilty)