#can't believe i spent over a grand on a free game

[rei-inari]

Got my steam keys from the Kickstarter. So excited for Beyond the Bet dropping in a few days! ( ≧ᗜ≦)

[leviscolwill]

as long as i'm the name on your tattooed heart

pairing: bsf!levi colwill x reader

summary: your best friend forcing you to tag along to one of his tattoo session is not as bad as it sounds, especially if it involves sharing kisses [wc: 950]

contents: bsf2lovers, mutual pinning, idiots in love, fluff, mention of needles, not proofread 🏃‍♀️

note: the way i know nothing about tattoos.... sorry for any tattoo aftercare inaccuracy 😞

now playing tattooed heart by ariana grande...

the buzzing sound of the tattooist's machine wasn't one you enjoyed, but the view of levi's bare back was somewhat making you feel better. you never liked to join him on his sessions but he knew how to bribe you, with the promise of a free of charge mcdonald's afterwards for example.

your best friend's grip on your hand tightened when the needles made contact with his shoulder. you couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his face wincing, wondering if the pain was really worth it.

“can't believe you're getting a kick out of seeing me in pain.” levi's words almost made you feel bad, but you remembered how he practically dragged you here.

“what's the point of bringing me here if i can't enjoy a little show.”

“i can't stand you.” you would have answered his blatant lie if it wasn't for him groaning in pain. your hand patted his in encouragement, silently hoping for the ‘show’ to end soon. as much as you pretended to, you couldn't stand seeing your best friend in pain, even if he claimed it was bearable and you should get matching tattoos one day.

after what seemed five hours to you but was really less than forty-five minutes according to levi, his tattoo was done. you liked how it looked but liked the fact you were getting out of here even more. after paying for your nuggets, levi drove you both to his house, praising you for completing at he called your ‘best friend duties’. you felt your heart tighten a bit at the mention of ‘best friend’ but managed to simply roll your eyes. all it took to distract him was bringing up how one of your middle school classmate was pregnant and you both jumped down the gossip rabbit hole.

once you were back at levi's, he abandoned you to take a shower, and you could only count on tiktok games to keep you busy.

your phone was the one left alone when you heard your name being called. you knocked on the bathroom's door before opening it, one eye closed to make sure levi was decent. once you took notice of his joggers, he didn't give you time to gush over his new tattoo before asking you to put some cream on it, he did give you a whole speech about tattoo healing but you were too distracted to make out a word of it.

“you really only see me as your servant.” you sighed but obliged. levi's reflection on the mirror was smiling at you when started applying the balm on his shoulder with the utmost care, scared to hurt him in some way even though he assured you couldn't even if you tried. your mind wandered when you took notice of how ridiculously small your hands were compared to his back, the thought of waking up to this sight was one you'd rather not indulge in, afraid you'd never be able to move on afterwards.

the act felt way more intimate then it should have. domestic in the most perfect way possible, unconsciously making you long for more of this type of moments, when you had levi to yourself, no camera or sporting duty for him to care about. levi silently prayed you didn't notice his breath hitching. how stupid was it really? you spent your whole lives together, sharing every little secret but the normality of the situation was the one making his heart race.

a comforting silence floated in the room that none of you wanted to break. but you eventually did, your hands letting go when there wasn't anything left to apply.

“quit staring.” levi's words pulled you out of your reverie, you didn't even notice your eyes wandering where they shouldn't have been.

“you wish i was staring.” you definitely were, but admitting it and giving his ego a boost was the worst case scenario for you.

“i don't need to wish, you're still drooling a bit love.”, his teasing made your cheeks heat up. you turned around and started cleaning up the material, careful not to show any trace of embarrassment in fear your best friend would never let you live it down.

the feeling of his hands on your shoulders caught you off guard, levi turned you around and tilted your head up.

“you're not mad at me, are you? i was joking...”, the thought of levi thinking you were mad at him made absolutely no sense to you.

“of course not.” you couldn't find it in yourself to make up an explanation that could properly conceal the truth.

levi hoped and prayed, he wasn't pushing your boundaries too far when his forefinger traced your jaw, softly letting his finger get a feel of your lips.

“say it.” your voice was barely audible, but his face was close to yours, close enough to hear what you wanted.

“can i kiss you?” even if levi's voice seemed much more assured than yours, he had to run his sweaty hands on the material of his joggers before cupping your jaw.

you didn't answer and closed the small gap between you two yourself. he knew how to kiss you just the way you liked, you'd believe he'd done this all his life. hell, he was better than some boys you've dated for years. the way your lips moved against each other seemed so natural, like they were already accostumed.

you let your hands rake over levi's bare upper body, before slightly pushing his chest to catch your breath. levi dropped his forehead against yours, before pecking your smile one more time.

“i told you taking you to the parlour wasn't useless, now you got yourself a pretty tattooed boyfriend.”

taglist: @ceofmercedes <3, @zowanew <3

[lindevi]

Media Favorites of 2023

Who can't believe that 2023 is nearly over? *raises hand* As the year winds down, this seems like the time to reflect on the things that helped us or brought us joy. The following is a list (not exhaustive) of my favorite apps, books, music, TV, and video games from the last year, including many that I would recommend to others. You can find my list from 2021 here. (I missed compiling this list in 2022, in no small part because I was sampling eastern Germany’s best Christmas Markets all through December.)

Apps

Airalo. My new go-to for international data, but you’ll need an unlocked phone. I was able to save a ton of money by setting up a second e-SIM to access Japanese mobile data networks. (It cost $10 for 10GB of data across 30 days, which was plenty for the week I spent there, and much cheaper compared to my phone plan’s offerings.) I wish I’d heard of this before my trips to England and Europe this year, but I was able to try it out in Japan successfully. I’ll definitely be making use of this app when traveling in the future. The only downside is that I can’t have both e-sims active, so I had to restart my phone in order to check my text messages. Luckily, most communication is done over apps these days instead of SMS, so I wasn’t missing much.

​Reverso. This app pulled more than its weight for me while I was traveling abroad this summer. The thing I liked most about it is how it pulls up example sentences so you can help see the context and usage of a given word. It also saves your searches for you, so if you were a more disciplined language student than me, you could write down any new vocabulary in a notebook to study later. Also, it’s free and works fairly well offline, and it’s able to handle multiple languages in the same app.

Vivino. When in France, drink as the French do, I suppose. But when you’re at the supermarket trying to decide between the many, many wines available for less than 10€, this app helps to narrow down the field. Scanning the label gives you the user score for that vintage, plus a personalized rating for how it compares to previous wines you’ve enjoyed. By rating the wines I tried, I was able to get a better sense of my preferred styles and remember which labels to avoid in the future. It was also excellent to have on hand when we went to Bordeaux and sampled various Grand Crus. The app helped me to get a sense for how much those bottles would fetch back home, and whether it was worth it to buy it in France to bring home or to seek it out at my local liquor store.

Books

​Dracula by Bram Stoker. The vampire book that started it all (well, not quite), this one really does live up to its reputation as a classic. A few years ago, I read Stoker’s The Jewel of Seven Stars and enjoyed it tremendously (it even served as the inspiration for a Dark Sun one-shot scenario I wrote based around Queen Tara), so I’m not sure what took me so long to get to Dracula. The epistolary style is really well done and should serve as a reference point for any game masters who long to add handouts to their campaigns. It’s inspired me to try running Night’s Black Agents in the new year.

Rivers of London by Ben Aaronovitch. Apparently this book is the first in an urban fantasy series I’ve been sleeping on for some time. The easy comparison is Storm Front, the first book in the Dresden Files, but I have to say that this one comes out on top re: modern wizard investigator stories, mostly because of the protagonist’s sense of humor and the audiobook narrator’s brilliant delivery. I think fans of British TV will find themselves very much at home with this book. I had the happy accident of being in London while reading this, and I had been exploring Covent Garden and the alleys surrounding the Royal Opera House immediately before reading the finale, which helped tremendously when picturing the final scenes.

Slaying the Dragon by Ben Riggs. With the news of the recent Hasbro layoffs affecting the D&D team at Wizards of the Coast, this book feels like required reading to understand some of the boom and bust cycles of D&D (although, sadly, D&D seems to be doing better than ever, and the layoffs appear to be mandated to help cover losses elsewhere in the company). It’s hard to fact-check/cross-reference this book because so much of it is original research and interviews done by the author, but that’s precisely why it’s a must-read for fans of the franchise.

Music

All Quiet on the Western Front (Soundtrack from the Netflix Film). One word: haunting. The main “melody” is extremely simplistic, but it fits the subject matter so well. I also recommend the movie if you play any 20th century-based wargames or read any history. I found it interesting that this was only the first time a German production company adapted it from the book.

Seelie by CLANN. I’m not sure how to categorize this album, except it’s incredibly ambient and dark and pagan (especially Celtic). The tracks all kind of blend together in a good way, making it excellent for writing or focus work.

Gris (Original Game Soundtrack). Another great soundtrack I put on repeat this year, mostly while reading. It’s melancholic, sweeping, hopeful. I’ve never played the video game, but if it’s half as good as the score, it’ll be quite good.

Movies/TV

​Barbie. I went for a “Barbenheimer” double-feature this summer, and I did not expect Barbie to hit way harder than Oppenheimer did. Ryan Gosling might have stolen the show, but the story and the feels really made this movie stay with us. Coming from a franchise development/IP approval perspective (and this is where I have to do the disclaimer that my opinions are my own, I’m not speaking on behalf of my employer Asmodee), I’m shocked that Mattel let this get made, but I’m so glad they did.

Blue Eye Samurai. (Netflix) I had little idea this was coming until a few weeks before the release, but this show blew me away and shattered any expectations I had for it. The character development, the animation, the voice acting, the themes… it’s hard to find faults with the show (although, perhaps Mizu’s ending was unexpected). If you enjoy samurai cinema or anime, if you’re at all interested in the history of Japan, or if you’re simply an appreciator of animation, this is a must-watch.

​Vienna Blood. (PBS) I like to joke that I have a grandmother’s taste in TV, because BBC/ITV period dramas make up so much of my streaming diet, but this is a mystery/detective show first and foremost. Instead of Sherlock and Watson, you’ve got Detective Rheinhardt and Max Liebermann. Max is a Jew in 1900s Vienna and a student of Freud’s work, with the psychoanalysis lending the show an interesting frame, but I’ve also really appreciated how important his family is to the show. I’ve found it really fascinating how they explore the many peoples of the Austro-Hungarian empire before its collapse, and it’s made me want to run a Cthulhu by Gaslight campaign in Vienna (elements of which I might pull forward into the NBA game).

Video Games

​Baldur’s Gate 3. (PC) It shouldn’t come as a surprise that someone whose hobbies center on Dungeons & Dragons and other roleplaying games should thoroughly enjoy this game, but I’m certain that even folks who have never rolled a d20 will be delighted by this CRPG from Larian Studios. The writing and voice performances are phenomenal, and the sheer amount of content (and thus, replayability) is staggering. I’ve logged over 60 hours playing and can easily see myself playing for 60 more. I’ve only just started Act II, so no spoilers, please!

Horizon: Forbidden West. (PS5) I was a bit of a latecomer to this game after it released in 2023, but once I started, I could barely put it down. Amazing characters? Check. Phenomenal gameplay? Check. Open-world exploration that actually evokes the feeling of discovery? Check. My only quibble is that the story isn’t quite as brilliant as the first game, but given that the first game was a masterpiece and easily in my top 5 games of all time, that’s a high bar to clear. I admit I bought a PlayStation 5 just so I could play the Burning Shores expansion when it came out in April, and while personally I had been shipping Aloy with Kotallo, I appreciate the romantic subplot being included.

What were some of your favorites from 2023? Did your list have any of the same titles as mine?

Featured image by Alisa Anton on Unsplash

[sonianvmd]

thh characters with a crush on you

warnings: none, maybe some swearing but otherwise nothing major

oH and mentions of murder and death but this is danganronpa so im going to assume u expected as much

a/n: so we kickin this blog off with a bang, writing for LITERALLY THE ENTIRE TRIGGER HAPPY HAVOC CAST LMFAOAOAOAO (excluding hifumi, yasuhiro, and the two despairs doe bc i’ve already made that clear)

also some character’s sections are shorter than others im sorry i just couldnt think of as many bullet points for them *tiktok cry emoji*

edit: I FORGOT CELSESTE FU K SORRY

spoilers under the cut!!

★ 彡 ★ ミ ★ 彡 ★ ミ ★

makoto naegi

when he realizes he likes you, he doesn’t necessarily panic or anything, but he does get nervous

nervous around you, that is

y’all saw how he was with sayaka

if he says anything that might sound intimate then he’ll immediately rephrase it or reassure he didn’t mean anything by it

he really only does have good intentions but his wording just kinda flops sometimes

he appreciates how you listen to him and value what he says

you don't make him feel dumb or inferior compared to a bunch of ultimates with actual talents

he’ll muster up the courage to tell you eventually

let’s hope his luck comes through 😁

byakuya togami

now when THIS man realizes he likes you, he a bitch nigga bout it 😐

he can't believe he fell for a common plebeian such as you

but it was hard not to

the way you preferred to get to the point

the way you were aware of your situation and didn't sugarcoat how you felt about it, although you certainly were nicer with it than him

he's ruthless

anyways

you knew your priorities and spent no time trying to use your resources

he noticed how much you had in common; in you, he saw himself

and we all know how this mf feels about himself 😐

he’ll be quick to defend you in class trials

he won’t realize he’s doing it but he just subconsciously protects you

but just because he doesn't notice it, don't mean the rest of the class brushes past it as well

yeah they on his ass LMFAOO

kyoko kirigiri

kyoko is very good at keeping her composure so she won’t be very obvious

she’ll probably just hang around you more

she’ll also defend you in class trials, calmly

“oh, it couldn’t have been [name]. i remember seeing them in their dorm around the time the murder took place.”

hifumi probably finna say some dumb shit like “aye what was you doin in their dorm doe” but anyways

she finds you respectable

if you have anything to contribute, she’ll let you take the floor

when she tells you, she’s very composed, but also very indirect LMFAO

she’s not too sure on how to express her interest in you but maybe she’ll go about it like “well, [name], now we’ve made it here, would you like to step back into the world with me?” or somethin else along those lines idk

take her hand

pls

toko fukawa

y’all know her whole “master togami” shtick

yeah so 😁😁😁😁

no but fr, toko ofc still has her borderline stalkerish 🧍🏾‍♀️ tendencies

she’ll often find herself staring at you, either in the library or in the morning meetings everyday at breakfast

but she isn’t as straight forward as she is with byakuya

i actually think she’d be mad shy and non confrontational

the whole thing she kept up with him ? yeah, never again

if you approach her first then she’ll be able to get a few words out but for most of the conversation, she’ll just nervously play with her braids

you’ll most likely put two and two together

unless ur a makoto kinnie bc then you’ll have to wait till someone else puts it in place for u but anyways

if you decide to approach her about it, you’ll kinda be backing her into a corner bc she’s just bad at deflecting things lmao

she’ll eventually confess (begrudgingly but hey i mean its better than nothing)

expect much stuttering and a gesture like giving you a small gift

and not to be that writer that uses japanese terms in english writing but toko seems like a tsundere but not really if that makes sense?? so she’d probably shove it in your hands and if you try to say something then she’ll just try to play it off as not a big deal lol

calls u a baka 😍😍

aoi asahina

i know y’all all see how she is with sakura

yeah.

aoi is the kind of person who’d like to spend time with their crush rather than shy away from them

she values you and your friendship very much

bring her donuts

just trust me bring her donuts

she doesn’t really realize she’s into you like that for a while but believe me, she is, the whole time

and yeah i think she’d be nervous to tell you bc that’s just natural but ultimately she’d be cool about it

uh oh looks like we goin for a swim

sakura ogami

similar to kyoko, she’s very calm

despite her big and bad appearance, she really is a sweet girl

she cares for you and your well-being very much

will indeed go on x games mode for you

the way she tells you is very sincere and well spoken

kith her

naow

im sorry this is like the shortest one i couldn’t think of much for her 😔😔

leon kuwata

flirtatious ass mf

and he’s lightskin

so this just cannot go well

y’all know that bit where it’s like the guy yawns and stretches his arms up and then wraps one around your shoulder

yeah that’s literally him LMFAOO

he’s very confident

he was fairly well known with the ladies at his old school so you know he’s rhockin wit it ‼️

but

you feel.. different than usual ??

those girls were just lil flings n dates bc he was nice enough to accept their confessions and it boosted his ego anyway so it was a win win

but you

he was genuinely interested in you since he had saw you the first time

he didn’t just acknowledge your appearance

he learnt about your personality and your hobbies and what you liked and such, and he really cared and wanted to hear you talk about it all

he felt the need to really make an effort to show you how much he respected and had affections for you

he doesn't tell you in a grand way

probably just asks you out to a movie or somethin

he's chillin

mondo owada

you know

for being the biggest, baddest, most respected biker gang leader

or just for being in a biker gang period

mondo’s a huge softie lol

yeah he gets violent but he’s a sweet guy who cares about and is loyal to his friends

so mfs need to be nice to you

or they gettin whooped

when he decides it’s time to tell you how he feels, he thinks over his words and he’s all confident there’s no way you’d reject him but then he sees you in the halls and goes 🧍🏾 LMFAOOO

he’ll push through but it’s like he’ll walk up to you and look away from you because he refuses eye contact and just go

“so y/n, would you wanna.. tch.. come to a drive-in movie with me or somethin’?... dumbass.”

real smooth mondo i think you got em good job

please tease him LMFAOO it’d be so funny

he’d probably yell but you can tell he’s not mad so you just keep going with it

but once you’re done tormenting him, you do agree to the movie, don’t worry 🙏🏾

also mondo would call his s/o doll

that is all

chihiro fujisaki

my fav dude in a dress <3

chihiro would be quite shy, but that’s just how he is tbh so no surprise there

he’s very kind so he’d check up on you often just to see how you are

he cares about you v much

the way he confesses is one that consists of a red face as he offers you a box of candy or something similar

and he’d feel honored that you reciprocate his feelings

he’d be very scared to tell you his secret but once he does, he’s delighted to hear it doesn’t make any difference to you

he doesn’t know how he got so lucky with you

not only because woooo they like me back but also because you like him despite,, well everything about him LMFAOO

sweet lil boy

i’d feel like he’d talk about you to alter ego a lot

and when u meet the program for the first time, he’s like “oh! you must be [name]! master’s told me all about you :)”

sobbing i miss him

kiyotaka ishimaru

okay here’s the thing

if taka were to like someone

i can’t tell whether he’d be more strict because he doesn’t want them to get in trouble (and also so it would hopefully divert any suspicion that he DOES like you since he treats you the same as everyone else, only more)

or if he’d hold back more because he favors them LMFAOO

so imma write a lil bit for both

in the case that he was even stricter:

he’d prefer to be around you because he believes the best way he can make sure you stay out of trouble is to make sure you don’t get into any in the first place

of course it’s impossible to monitor you every second of every day but he does his best to make sure you’re doing well

if he sees you do anything out of line, he’s shutting that shit down IMMEDIATELY

but in the case he let up:

he’d still lecture you but noticeably less than the other students

if your feet were resting on top of a desk, he’d ask you to move them and then leave you alone rather than yell at you and forcibly move them himself

if you notice his behavior towards you in comparison to the other students do not tease him about it he will go as red as his eyes /hj

either way he’s confessing to you with a polite but exaggerated bow while holding out a well thought out letter with both hands

sayaka maizono

she will tell you

idk why but i feel like she’d be straight up lol

she’d make sure she’s sincere

she is the ultimate pop idol and all so she wants to make sure you know that she really does like you and isn’t playing a sick joke on you or anything

ok bc

while i do think she’d tell you

i’d feel like she’d be a little indirect just to see how you feel

like she’d give you a free ticket to one of her upcoming concerts with a kind smile

and naturally, you're like :o

and of course you come to support her

and seeing you smile at her from the crowd and cheer her on was the encouragement she needed to push her to ask you out

for real this time

she asks if you wanna come to a concert with her and ur like “oh yeah i love ur shows!!” bc ur dumb and then she’s like “no i mean.. for another artist” and eventually it hits you that she’s asking you out and ur like “oH YEAH YEAH SURE THAT SOUNDS GREAT YEAH OK” LMFAOO

———

i really hope that this is good LMFAOO this is my first time writing for dr so 😃👍🏾

fun fact i finished toko’s section first and taka’s last 😁😁

and i’d like to thank @mius-imagination @bloodygir n the rest of the discord for helping me figure some of these characters out *simultaneously whips and nae naes*

bye ive been working on this for like weeks this took forever

———

edit: here’s a deleted section bc i kept blanking for this character 😍

[gildedmuse]

Hey, everyone.

So recently I've (predictably) very not well. Actually, whenever I don't post for long periods, just assume my body is trying to kill me. But I've gotten messages from three people asking if I. Okay, which is super sweet. I am actually trying to work on the next All Hearts, a really long ZoLaw post and two request fics, but mixing chronic kidney pain and capitalist society's mandate to work 40+ hours is not recommended.

But to prove I'm okay and still me, here is some Shanks antics with him being a total slut while Mihawk and Beckman just roll their eyes and go along with it. [Shout out to @jhaernyl who not only listens to me ramble about this stuff, but actively encourages it]. I also have many thoughts on the latest episodes and so many screenshots it's embarrassing. Hopefully, when I'm in less pain, I'll get around to actually posting those. Otherwise I just look like an insane person who literally takes by the second frame shots every time Zoro is on screen.

.... What is that? I look like that anyway? Fair.

Shanks Is A Bad Influence

It feels like Buggy and Shanks split up after Roger's death (the crew was told to, and they are the only ones who went to his execution) and I find it impossible to think Shanks didn't immediately set out and find a crew; like, pirating is the only thing this kid knows in life. This means two things:

He set out from East Blue. Also, he seemed at ease and familiar with the East so it's possible he spent like a year there getting everything together. Maybe he even played around in the other blues for a while before heading back to the Grand Line. I say this because his crew is from all over so either he found and recruited them in the Grand Line or visited various blues. Either way, I'm gonna say it took him about two years before getting a 'proper' start. In that case, he would have started out properly at the age of 17 and we know One Piece likes it's parallels.

That still puts Shanks at 17 to Benn Beckmen's 28. How the fuck did Shanks manage that? I'd call it grave robbing, but let's face it, the little tyke probably got up to some actual robbing of graves as well.

My point being everytime Shanks teases Mihawk about keeping this 19 year old kid on his personal island, mostly shirtless, Benn Beckmen just lifts an eyebrow.

Excuse me, captain, who had prefected the 'opps still don't have my sea legs' trip-and-fall into their first mates lap by the age of 17?

Shanks: Beckmen, you caught me! *Shamelessly nuzzles up* Thank goodness! I could be a devil's fruit user after all and - Ahh!

Benn: *Drops Shanks straight over the side of the ship into the water*

Shanks: *Sputtering* What what that!?

Benn: Checking to see if you had eaten a devil's fruit on us, Capatin.

Benn: You didn't.

Smart ass. But he can't resist Shanks forever. Shanks will wear him down eventually.

Next time Mihawk tracks him down for another match - because you know he gets bored way quicker than he'll ever admit and Shanks is at least amusing a challenge - Shanks makes a big deal out of how Mihawk follows him around, "accidentally" revealing they slept together, sighing about how it's so hard to resist him.

Benn Beckmen is just leaning against the side of the ship, sipping his booze.

Shanks: -and I can't stay for hours like last time!!

Mihawk: Are you quite done?

Shanks: *whispering* Does Benn look jealous?

Mihawk: He looks bored. Much like I am. Is this some strange attempt to get out of my challenge, Akagami?

Shanks: What? No, come on I told you I was game. But, hey, could you do me a favor? Maybe like try and kiss me or something? Like take a swing like your going to hit me but then stop shot and grab me by the waist instead.

Mihawk: .... Trickery is beneath you. Besides, you're absolute rubbish at it.

Shanks: Oh, come on, I would totally help you get laid if you asked!

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* I want a proper match afterwards.

Mihawk: *In a forced, monotone voice* After this I will take you to my lair and have my way with you, Akagami.

Mihawk: ... My lair? Really?

Shanks: *Holding up cue card with quickly scribbled line* What? That is how you talk.

Mihawk: I can't believe I wasted precious hours of light tracking you to this atrociously rural port.

Shanks: See? Now, read the next one.

Benn: Captain? If this is going to take all night, I am going to go join the rest of the men in the tavern.

Shanks: Huh? Wait! Benn! What if Miha really stabs me this time!?

Benn: *Salutes Shanks with his bottle* Sounds like that is his plan captain. Have a good 'challenge'.

Shanks: What? No... *Reaching out hand, like he might die if Benn leaves, looking completely devastated* Not even a little jealous...

Mihawk: You couldn't have thought that pantomime would actually work.

Shanks: Benny, don't leave me.... *Turns to Mihawk, immediately brightening* Oh, well, there's always tomorrow. Hey, Miha, guess whose free all night and horny as a pirate in the calm belt?

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* Very well.

Mihawk might as well get something for the trip he made. Although, he's reconsidering if the sex was actually worth the trouble after he ends up listening to Shanks worry half the night that Benn is shacking up with someone else (after a couple hours of rough and raw fucking, admittedly).

Is it the hat? He likes his captain's hat. Miha, you think his captain's hat is sexy, don't you?

Mihawk: It's utterly ridiculous.

Shanks: ....

Shanks: ....

Shanks: *Smile* Ahh, Miha, I knew you liked the hat!

Shanks: What do you old Northerns find sexy?

Mihawk: I am only four years older than you.

Mihawk: And silence.

Trying to convince Mihawk to go spy on Beckman for him. Shanks doesn't actually care if he does sleep with someone else, it's more that Beckman didn't immediately turn angry and jealous like Buggy would have that has him paranoid.

Mihawk is going to fuck this annoying red head again just to shut him up.

Mihawk: Maybe he doesn't like red haired boys who don't know when to be quiet?

The next morning Shanks is pacing among his poor crew that's gotten stuck listening to Shanks obsess about Beckman again. IS IT REALLY THE HAIR!?

It's not even a matter of Shanks's age (or obvious immaturity). I mean, Beckman got on board and stayed, didn't he? Beckman just enjoys watching Shanks try so hard to get his attention. Like Benn's attention isn't constantly on Shanks. He had to when his captain is always one step away from disaster.

He only left him with Mihawk because it was clear Dracule is not a real danger to Beckman's captain.

Except maybe insulting him to death. But Beckman is pretty sure Shanks can handle it. He's met Buggy. He's suspects Shanks LIKES it if anything.

It gets to the point where when they dock somewhere and see Mihawk waiting, or come back to the ship and spot his familiar silhouette, most of the crew goes off somewhere for another drink (sometimes the newer kids will stay to watch such an awesome fight, everyone else is like... Look, you'll have plenty of opportunities later. This is not a one off.)

Benn just takes a look around, nods to Mihawk (a silent signal for, "he's all yours, do with him as you please, if anything happens to him I will track you down and make sure your last few hours on this blue world are as painful as humanly possible") and heads off.

Oh, it's just the Hawk boy.

That's fine then.

Benn use to be a sailor on a trade ship between the North, East, West and Grand Line. He's seen it all.

They called him The Gun Slinger BEFORE he joined Shanks's crew and became a pirate.

So this young, broke ass kid from the streets of some near artic northern island trying to pass himself off as a Lower North rich type has a thing for his captain? Not really enough to keep Beckman up at night, no matter how good at swords he's supposed to be

Besides, he's pretty sure for the kid to keep tracking down Shanks, he must be bored out of his skull. He's not going to do anything to endanger their captain.

Not if Shanks is the only thing he can find to keep him entertained.

One day, Mihawk is going to be waiting on the dock when a bunch of Red Haired pirates are stumbling home, laughing and chattering amongst themselves (Shanks's crew always seems to be in a good mood). One of them will catch sight if Mihawk and walk by with a smile, patting him on the shoulder.

The captain's occupied. Seems likely he'll be 'occupied' for a good while, too.

Mihawk won't smile, but he will think "So you finally warmed him up to you, Akagami?" and snort lightly.

Poor Benn, though. Mihawk could never imagine being with someone so much younger than him. Shanks is only four years his junior and already it strains Mihawk to put up with his occasional moments of "youthful whimsy" (aka being an annoying, immature child)

"A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair"

Mihawk just putting that on his Not To Do List.

That lasted until Roronoa.

(Mihawk just looking at Zoro knowing this is bad news.)

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

*Cross out, scribbles*

*Hands back to Benn*

Do Not Do:

- A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair a silly hat, who is overly dramatic and in any way, shape or form related to Gol D Rogers.

Ace: Hey what's up?

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

Go ahead, Benn, laugh it up. Mihawk is aware he has a type. Young, pretty, and utterly insane.

After that night where Shanks was otherwise 'occupied', it's over six months before Mihawk sees his friend his rival again. He is, as expected, far too smug and proud looking.

Shanks: Oh, Miha, so sorry you came all this way, I'm-

Benn: Well, I'm off, captain.

Shanks: What!? But we, you, I... Benn, hessoeexyarentyouworriedforyourcaptain?

Benn: *patting Mihawk on the shoulder* Have fun with him. Don't forget to return him by noon tomorrow, we have a schedule. Oh, but if you can babysit him for at least four hours? That would be great.

Shanks: BABYSIT!?

Mihawk: I suppose I can be troubled to do so.

Shanks: TROUBLED!?

Benn: Thanks, Hawkeyes. I owe you.

Shanks: *Fake tears clinging to his lashes* You two are so mean!

No, don't feel bad for him. Shanks is just trying to guilt the two of them into bed at the same time, and they both know it.

Thanks no thanks, they're not into that. But Shanks can be pretty cute when he's trying so hard (Benn) and at least he's not as boring as everything else in this world (Mihawk) so they allow him to keep up the act

Shanks: *looking at Zoro's wanted poster over Mihawk's shoulder* But I feel like you'd gladly go to bed with him and his captain if he asked. That doesn't seem fair to me. You'd never go that far with me and Benn.

Mihawk: *Eyes Benn*

Mihawk: *DEAD. ONLY.*

Mihawk: I have my reasons.

They can and do agree on plenty of things, including reciprocally not being that attracted to each other.

Shanks: Sounds fake to me

Shanks: But guys!

Shanks: This isn't about you

He's gonna need you guys to drop the egos and focus on what HE wants. I.E., being in the middle of two sexy Northern men.

Honestly, so mean to poor Shanks!

[thewidowsghost]

Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 3

Percy's POV

Confession time: I ditch Grover as soon as we get to the bus terminal.

I know, I know. It was rude. But Grover is kinda freaking me out, looking at me like I am a dead man, muttering, "Why does this always happen?" and "Why does it always have to be the sixth grade?"

Whenever he gets upset, Grover's bladder acts up, so I'm not surprised when, as soon as we get off the bus, he makes me promise to wait for him, then makes a beeline for the restroom. Instead of waiting, I get my suitcase, slip outside, and catch the first taxi uptown.

"East One-hundred-and-forth and First," I tell the driver.

A word about my mother, before you meet her.

Her name is Sally Jackson and she's the best person in the world, which just proves my theory that the best people have the rottenest luck. Her own parents died in a plane crash when she was five, and she was raised by an uncle who didn't care much about her. She wanted to be a novelist, so she spent high school working to save enough money for a college with a good creative-writing program. Then her uncle got cancer, and she had to quit school her senior year to take care of him. After he died, she was left with no money, no family, and no diploma.

The only good break she ever got was meeting mine and (Y/n)'s dad.

We didn't have any memories of him, just this warm sort of glow, maybe the barest trace of his smile. Our mom doesn't like to talk about him because it makes her sad; she has no pictures.

See, they weren't married. She told us he was rich and important, and their relationship was a secret. Then one day, he set sail across the Atlantic on some important journey, and he never came back.

Lost at sea, my mom had told us. Not dead. Lost at sea.

She worked odd jobs, took night classes to get her high school diploma, and raised me and my twin on her own. She never complained or got mad. Not even once. But I knew I wasn't an easy kid.

Finally, she married Gabe Ugliano, who was nice the first thirty seconds we knew him, then showed his true colors as a world-class jerk. When I was young, I nicknamed him Smelly Gabe. I'm sorry, but it's the truth. The guy reeked like moldy garlic pizza wrapped in gym shorts.

Between the two of us, we made my mom's life pretty hard. The way Smelly Gabe treated her, the way he and I got along...well, when I came home is a good example.

I walk into our little apartment, hoping my mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe is in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blares ESPN. Chips and beer cans are strewn all over the carpet.

Hardly looking, he says around his cigar, "So, you're home."

"Where's Mom and (Y/n)?" I wonder aloud.

"Your mom's working," he says. "You got any cash?"

That was it. No Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months?

"I don't have any cash," I toll him.

"Here," comes a voice, holding out a ten to the man.

Instantly, a smile sneaks its way onto my face.

"Hey, Perc," my twin sister says with a smile.

(Y/n)'s POV

I grab my brother's suitcase and carry it into his room; I set it down on the bed.

"You wanna come sit in my room?" I ask and Percy nods, a smile still on his face.

I lead the way to my room and when I open the door, Percy sinks into my desk chair.

"Percy?" comes our mom's voice.

She opens my bedroom door.

Our mother can make me feel good just by walking into the room. Her eyes sparkle and change color in the light. Her smile is as warm as a quilt. She's got a few gray streaks mixed in with her long brown hair, but I never think of her as old. When she looks at me, it's like she's seeing all the good things about me, none of the bad. I've never heard her raise her voice or say an unkind word to anyone, not even me or Percy or Gabe.

"Oh, Percy," she hugs her son tightly. "I can't believe it. You've grown since Christmas.

Percy's POV

Her red-white-and-blue Sweet on America uniform smelled like the best things in the world: chocolate, licorice, and all the other stuff she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central. She'd brought me a huge bag of "free samples," the way she always did when I came home.

We sit together on the edge of (Y/n)'s bed. While I attack the blueberry sour strings, (Y/n) stealing a few pieces of candy from the bag, Mom runs her hand through my hair and demands to know everything I hadn't put in my letters. She doesn't mention anything about my getting expelled. She doesn't seem to care about that. But was I okay? Was her little boy doing all right? The whole time, (Y/n)'s eyes were sparkling with amusement.

I tell Mom she is smothering me, and to lay off and all that, but secretly, I was really, really glad to see her and (Y/n).

From the other room, Gabe yells, "Hey, Sally—how about some bean dip, huh?"

I grit my teeth.

My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should've been married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Gabe.

For her sake, I try to sound upbeat about my last days at Yancy Academy. I tell her I'm not too down about the expulsion. I'd lasted almost the whole year this time. I'd made some new friends. I'd done pretty well in Latin. And honestly, the fights hadn't been as bad as the headmaster said. I liked Yancy Academy. I really did. I put such a good spin on the year, I almost convince myself. I start choking up, thinking about Grover and Mr. Brunner. Even Nancy Bobofit suddenly doesn't seem so bad.

Until that trip to the museum...

"What?" my mom asks. Her and my sister's eyes tug at my conscience, trying to pull out the secrets. "Did something scare you?"

"No, Mom."

I feel back for lying. I want to tell her about Mrs. Dodds and the three old ladies with the yarn, but I think it'd sound stupid.

Mom purses her lips. Both she and (Y/n) could tell I was holding back, but neither push me.

(Y/n)'s POV

"I have a surprise for both of you," Mom says. "We're going to the beach."

Percy's eyes widen. "Montauk?"

"Three nights - same cabin."

"When?" I ask excitedly.

Mom smiles. "As soon as I get changed."

I can't believe it. Mom, Percy, and I hadn't been to Montauk the last two summers, because Gabe said there wasn't enough money.

Gabe appears in my doorway and growls, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"

"I've got it," I offer, rising from the bed and walking out into the kitchen to make the dip for Mom.

An hour later, we are ready to leave.

Gabe takes a break from his poker game long enough to watch me and Percy lug Mom's bags to the car. He keeps griping and groaning about losing her cooking - and most importantly, his '78 Camaro - for the whole weekend.

"Not a scratch on this car, you two," he warns us as I load the last bag. "Not one little scratch."

Like we'd be the ones driving. We're twelve. But that didn't matter to Gabe. If a seagull so much as pooped on his paint job, he'd find a way to blame us.

We get into the Camero, me in the passenger's seat, and Percy in the back.

Our rental cabin is on the south shore, way out at the tip of the Long Island. It is a little pastel box with faded curtains, half-sunken into the dunes. There is always sand in the sheets and spiders in the cabinets, and most of the time the sea is too cold to swim in.

Percy and I love the place.

We'd been going there since Percy and I were babies. Our mom had been going even longer. She never exactly said, but I knew why the beach was special to her. It was the place she'd met mine and Percy's dad.

As we get closer to Montauk, Mom seems to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turning the color of the sea.

We arrive at the cabin, open all the cabin windows, and go through our usual cleaning routine. We walk on the beach, feed blue corn chips to the seagulls, and much on jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples my mom had brought from work.

I guess I should explain the blue food.

See, Gabe had once told Mom there was no such thing. They had this fight, which seemed like a small thing at the time. But ever since, Mom had gone out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes. She mixed blueberry smoothies. She bought blue-corn tortilla chips and brought home blue candy from the shop. This - alone with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano - was proof that she wasn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, like Percy.

When it gets dark, we make a fire. We roast hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom tells us stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents died in the plane crash. She tells us about the books she wanted to write when she gets enough money to quit the candy shop.

Finally, it seems that Percy gets the nerve to ask about what was always on our minds when we come to Montauk - our father. Mom's eyes go all misty. I figure that she was going to tell us the same things she always said, but neither Percy and I ever got tired of hearing them.

"He was kind, Percy," Mom says. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, two. You have his black hair, you know, Percy, and you both have his green eyes."

Mom fishes a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you, Percy, (Y/n). He would be so proud."

Percy's POV

I wondered how she could say that. What's so great about me? A dyslexic, hyperactive boy with a D+ report card, kicked out of the school for the sixth time in six years.

"How old were we?" I ask. "I mean . . . when he left?"

Mom watches the flames. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."

"But...he knew us as a baby."

"No, honey. He knew I was expecting twins, but he never saw you two. He had to leave before you were born."

I try to square that with the fact I seem to remember . . . something about my father. A warm glow. A smile.

(Y/n) and I had always assumed that he had known us as babies. Mom had never said it outright, but still, we'd always felt it must be true. Now, to be told that he'd never even seen us . . .

I realize I feel angry at my father. Maybe it was stupid, but I resent him for going on that ocean voyage, for not having the guts to marry Mom. He'd left us, and now we are stuck with Smelly Gable.

"Are you sending me away again?" I ask her. "To another boarding school."

She pulls a marshmallow from the fire.

"I don't know, honey." Mom's voice is heavy. "I think . . . I think we'll have to do something."

"Because you don't want me around?" I regret the words as soon as they come out of my mouth. (Y/n) bows her head, looking at the ground and Mom's eyes well with tears.

Mom takes my hand and squeezes it tight. "Oh, Percy, no. I - I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away."

Her words remind me of what Mr. Brunner had said - that it was best for me to leave Yancy.

"Because I'm not normal," I say.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing, Percy. But you don't realize how important you are. I thought Yancy Academy would be far enough away. I thought you'd finally be safe.

"Safe from what?"

She meets my eyes, and a flood of memories comes back to me - all the weird, scary things that had ever happened to me and (Y/n), some of which we'd tried to forget.

During third grade, a man in a black trench coat had stalked us on the playground. When the teachers threatened to call the police, he went away growling, but no one believed (Y/n) when she'd told them that under his broad-brimmed hat, the man only had one eye, right in the middle of his head.

Before that—a really early memory. I was in preschool, and a teacher accidentally put me down for a nap in a cot that a snake had slithered into. My mom screamed when she came to pick me up and found me playing with a limp, scaly rope I'd somehow managed to strangle to death with my meaty toddler hands.

In every single school, something creepy had happened, something unsafe, and I was forced to move.

I know I should tell my mom about the old ladies at the fruit stand, and Mrs. Dodds at the art museum, about my weird hallucination that I had sliced my math teacher into dust with a sword. But I can't make myself tell her. I have a strange feeling the news would end our trip to Montauk, and I don't want that.

"I've tried to keep you as close to me as I could," my mom says. "They told me that was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy—the place your father wanted to send you two. And I just...I just can't stand to do it."

(Y/n)'s POV

"Our father wanted us to go to a special school?" I ask, a little confused.

"Not a school," she says softly. "A summer camp."

My head starts spinning. Why would my dad - who hadn't even stayed around long enough to see me and Percy be born - talk about a summer camp?

"I'm sorry, (Y/n)," she said, seeing the look in my eyes. "But I can't talk about it. I—I couldn't send you two to that place. It might mean saying good-bye to you for good."

"For good?" Percy asks. "But if it's only a summer camp.

Mom turns towards the fire, and I know from her expression that if either of us ask her any more questions, she would start to cry.

I have a weird, vivid dream. It is storming on the beach, and two beautiful animals, a white horse, and a golden eagle are trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf. The eagle swoops down and slashes the horse's muzzle with its huge talons. The horse rears up and kicks at the eagle's wings. As they fight, the ground rumbles and a monstrous voice chuckles somewhere and beneath the earth, goading the animals to fight harder.

I run towards them, knowing I have to stop them from killing each other, but I am running in slow motion. I know I am too late. I see the eagle dive down, its beak aimed at the horse's wide eyes, and I scream, No!

I wake with a start.

Outside, it really is storming, the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There is no horse or eagle on the beach, just lightning making false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounding the dunes like artillery.

With the next thunderclap, my mom and Percy wake. Mom sits up, eyes wide, and says, "Hurricane."

I know that's crazy. Long Island never sees hurricanes this early in the summer. But the ocean seems to have forgotten. Over the roar of the wind, I hear a distant bellow, an angry, tortured sound that makes my hair stand on end.

Percy's POV

Then a much closer noise, like mallets in the sand. A desperate voice - someone yelling, pounding on our cabin door.

My mother springs out of bed in her nightgown and throws open the lock.

Grover stands framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain. But he isn't . . . he isn't exactly Grover.

"Searching all night," he gasps. "What were you thinking?"

My mother looks at me in terror - not scared of Grover, but of why he'd come.

"Percy," she says, having to shout to be heard over the rain. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?"

I am frozen, looking at Grover. I can't understand what I'm seeing, and I see (Y/n) looking at my friend.

"O Zeu kai alloi theoi!" he yells. "It's right behind me! Didn't you tell her?"

I am too shocked to register that he'd just cursed in Ancient Greek, and I'd understood him perfectly. I am too shocked to wonder how Grover had gotten here by himself in the middle of the night. Because Grover doesn't have pants on - and where his legs should be . . . where his legs should be . . .

Mom looks at me sternly and talks in a tone she'd never used before, and (Y/n) flinches: "Percy. Tell me now!"

I stammer something about the old ladies at the fruit stand and Mrs. Dodds, and my mom stares at me, her face deathly pale in the flashes of lightning.

She grabs her purse, tosses me and (Y/n) our rain jackets, and says, "Get the car. All three of you. Go!"

Grover runs for the Camero - but he isn't running, exactly. He is trotting, shaking his shaggy hindquarters, and suddenly his story about a muscular disorder in his legs makes sense to me. I understand how he can run so fast and still limp when he walks.

Because where his feet should be, there are no feet. There are cloven hooves.

Word Count: 3041 words

[sophi-s]

After three days. Three freaking days.

It is finished.

A kiss to die for

By: sophi-s (me)

Words: 4,531

Franchise: Darksiders video games

Characters: Fallen!Astarte, Abaddon

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, blood and gore, near death experience, angst, necromancy, I changed the storyline just a tiny bit for the purposes of this, Abaddon gets his ass handed to him by his ex :P.

--------------------------------------------------

Eden. The first gift from the Creator himself to the Humanity. A home for the First Ones. Once, an indescribably beautiful place full of grand trees and fresh, soft grass, flowing with cool, crystal clear waters. Colorful fruits growing in the trees, a delight to eye and tongue. Within, no danger could reach Humanity's ancestors. Truly a paradise the first humans rightfully called it. But now, after a great war that took place here, seemingly not that long ago, the great garden was left scarred and burning. Made into a tomb for those who sought to claim it. Bodies of Nephilim were left to burn and decay, forgotten and abandoned.

However, something has changed. A dark shadow passed over the sacred graveyard, leaving only madness and corruption in its wake. Those who perished picked themselves up from the ground and lashed out at Eden's guardians. Surprised and unable to respond with a coordinated defensive, the Faneguard had to call for retreat after their leader, Malahidael fell to the blades and arrows of the living dead. Amongst the scattered angels was the general of Heaven's Legions. Trying his best to keep his brethren focused and plan a tactical escape.

At least that's what he was trying before. Before he saw the cause of this nightmare. Now, outstretched on the ground in the dust, he forced himself up onto his elbow as he crawled towards his discarded blade, clutching at his chest that felt as though it had been caved in after a charging monstrosity trampled him in full speed.

How could this happen?

Fighting with his chaotic thoughts, he finally got a hold of the hilt but when he turned around, it was already too late. A large paw armed with razor-sharp claws landed on him, pinning him down and successfully immobilizing his lower half. And then his own blue eyes stared up into a pair of white ones, the same eyes that doomed him from the moment he met their gaze for the first time. The eyes that occupied his thoughts when he was awake and his dreams while he slept. Eyes of Astarte.

But what stood above him… this thing, this monster was Astarte no longer. From the waist up, the woman was stunningly beautiful as she always was, with her pale white eyes and long flowing, platinum blonde hair. But her legs have been replaced by a body of a feline beast with wings coated in blackness of corruption, feathers shimmering with red glyphs. A wicked smile was twisting her petal like lips and wherever her clawed paws fell, the dead bodies shivered and rose, called back into the accursed unlife. Utter insanity shone in her eyes.. Keeping his stone façade was no longer possible as inwardly he was falling apart. Astarte. The same Astarte who would kill and die for him, the same who he trusted more than anyone. The same Astarte he dared to love. Her smirk grew wider as she chuckled.

"Who do we have here? The great general of Heaven's Legions Abaddon himself!"

The unfamiliar taunting tone of her voice sent a shiver down his spine, as did the way she bared her teeth in a disturbing grin. Giving the large paw a tug to try and wriggle free, quickly realising it's pointless as the damned thing didn't even budge, Abaddon took a struggling breath, pretty sure his sternum was damaged if not broken.

"Astarte…"

His voice came out as a broken, pleading whisper. He still couldn't… or maybe he didn't want to… cope with what he was seeing clearly like on the palm of his hand. Astarte, his most formidable soldier, the strongest of them all, and the only woman in the Universe he felt something special for… Fallen into the vice-like grip of Lucifer's corrupting influence. Gone was the gentle smile that crawled its way up onto her face whenever she spotted him. Abaddon swallowed thickly when he noticed the spear in her hand poised to strike and carve his broken heart out from his chest. Astarte would never harm him…

"I was wondering when you'd show up."

She scoffed and used her other paw to press his right arm to the ground should he try to take a swipe at her. But they both knew far too well that he couldn't have, even if he wanted to. Astarte leaning over him was still the one his heart yearned for, still beautiful just… in a different, more horrifying way. Through the ringing in his ears after his head cracked against a rock, he could hear someone call out to him but whoever it was, they were successfully pushed back by the horde of undead Nephilim.

"Astarte, don't do it.."

He quietly begged, even though he never begs. Seeing her like this, twisted and bestial, did something to him he couldn't quite comprehend. Touched that part of his soul he didn't even know about. Strangely enough, even in her madness, Astarte must've sensed something in him that gave her a pause as she curiously tilted her head to one side. All the moments, even the shortest ones, he'd spent with Astarte in the past were flashing before his eyes. Every time they had one another's back in battle, every time one saved the other's life, every time they spoke about the things they would never tell anyone else whenever they were alone. And that memorable moment when they stood together, away from the prying eyes that moonlit night. Abaddon was listening to her as she asked him if what she feels is right, if there's any possible way he feels that way as well. He almost laughed at her obliviousness and the fact that his love was there before she even realised her own. Of course.. He took her hands in his and gazed into her eyes, absolutely mesmerized, waiting for permission to finally grant her the proof of his love and devotion, one which she silently gave him with a nod and a smile.

"I would walk through the fire of Nine Hells for you."

He said before leaning down to place a chaste kiss on her lips. A kiss, stolen kiss he was dying to receive. It was very brief but still felt like his first flight over the White City. Liberating, wonderful and equally as intoxicating. Those were the most beautiful memories he'd ever made but now they were like a parasite buried deeply into his brain, one that refused to leave his head, reminding him of better times and cackling maniacally at him as the present was coming undone before his very eyes. He wanted those memories to go. But there was no escape. Neither from them nor from Astarte herself.

"Look at me.."

"I am."

"Please, come to your senses. It's not you.. You need to fight it, I know you have it in you. Don't leave me like this… Don't you remember everything I'd done for you? Everything you'd done for me ?"

For a second, Astarte's grin fell, making place for a thoughtful expression and for this short second Abaddon dared to hope that there's still light in her. That he somehow managed to get to her. But all these hopes were taken away when she shook her head and looked at him… not with anger. It was pity, plain and simple as she spoke in a condescending tone.

"Fool. So loyal and righteous. Look around! The war had ended long ago, yet we remain stranded in this forsaken tomb! We've been abandoned and no one will set us free if we don't do so ourselves! Don't tell me you cannot see it."

He couldn't believe his ears. It wasn't the honorable and just angel he used to know. The Astarte he knew was gone. This was a twisted monster bearing the visage of his dearest, taunting him with her beauty that was always keeping his hand paralyzed whenever he tried to strike her even though his life depended from it.

"I have chosen my path, Abaddon. And you can walk it with me.."

Abaddon eyed her hand warily as she stretched it out to him, offering him help in standing up. He was torn. On the one hand, he so, so wanted to accept and be with Astarte as he used to. No one would take her from him ever again. But taking her hand would also mean slipping into the hateful darkness. Welcoming the sullying blackness inside and succumbing to madness. Straying from the light and forsaking his duty in favor of the same accursed power that destroyed her.

It was a dangerous thing, this love.. Pushing even the most reasonable people to do unthinkable and dangerous things in the name of it. More often than not at costs that rarely make it worth it. Lucifer knew this. And he used it as a weapon against Abaddon by turning Astarte. He knew not what the Dark Prince offered her but it must've been worth losing oneself. Astarte was now Lucifer's servant, not the love of Abaddon's eternal life. He couldn't… he couldn't end up like her. His already bleeding heart screamed out with anguish when he finally gathered himself to speak.. and refused.

"I… can't do this, Astarte. Not even for you…"

"That's a pity…"

Abaddon grunted in pain when the pressure on his wrist increased to the point when he could feel his bones beginning to crack. And then as suddenly as it appeared, the crushing weight was gone, both from his arm and his chest. But he wasn't free. His breath was abruptly cut off when Astarte's slender fingers, which often fiddled with his hair when he had a moment to lie down and rest after a hard day, looking up at her sitting beside his head, before all this, mercilessly curled around his throat and lifted him up to her eye level until his toes could no longer reach the ground. She was strong. Stronger than he remembered. His left hand grasped Astarte's wrist as he tried to struggle free while he raised his sword to attack. But… looking deep into her eyes, at her face, mouth curved in a poisonous sweet smile, the silken skin of her cheeks… His hand trembled. Once again he proved her and himself he doesn't have it in him to do this. Damn it all. This one, seemingly harmless emotion was what ultimately led him to his own doom. If he'd never fallen for Astarte he wouldn't be here, flapping his wings madly in an attempt to wriggle out of her hold. But he couldn't command his heart. It would not listen to him.. Abaddon couldn't simply stop loving Astarte. Her eyebrows furrowed in a gentle frown and he felt the tip of her gilded spear press insistently against his abdomen, right under his ribs. Cold sweat began to bead around his brow. Oh Creator…

"Fret not, love.."

Astarte purred, making him finally stop beating his wings and look her in the eye again only to see an unsettling spark in there. Despite the obvious danger, hearing her call him her "love" in this deceivingly sweet voice still made his racing heart skip a beat.

"It won't be long.. And when you die, you'll be forever at my side. Just as you desired."

As a monster, not unlike her. A living corpse that defiled the natural order by its existence itself. He didn't want to go like this. What an end it is for a general of Heaven? Killed by his own lieutenant and brought back to life as a shambling husk of what he used to be? Preposterous. Cold lump of fear settled into the pit of his stomach. He could only count seconds. One.. two… it didn't even come to three when the blade sunk deeply into his flesh, piercing the armor as though it wasn't even there in the first place and running him through. After all, the spear was created specifically to fight armored opponents… Abaddon wanted to scream out in pain but the wail of agony was cut short by the firm grasp on his throat that stopped the air escaping his lungs. Pain clouded his vision but did not silence his racing thoughts. He was weak. He couldn't strike Astarte down as his enemy, denying her the well deserved rest and falling to her blade like a fool he felt like. He struggled to breathe and keep his eyes opened when he felt Astarte loosen her ironclad grip on his neck and move her hand to his face, oh so gently pulling the strands of his hair, matted with sweat, to the side and behind his ear before placing the same hand on the back of his neck to keep his head still. He gasped for air through his opened mouth as blood was beginning to well up in his throat and dribble down his chin. And then Astarte unexpectedly leaned in and decisively captured his lips with her own, granting him the final kiss for a farewell.

Abaddon's eyes widened in fear and shock but even though the pain of the spear through his side, he found himself going slack in Astarte's arms. His ornate blade clattered to the ground when his fingers unfurled and let it slip out. No strength remained within him to even try and respond to Astarte's lips, even if he wanted to. But what he hoped to be his last comfort turned out to be nothing more than a cruel torment with how cold and meaningless the kiss felt. It was nothing like the one back in the White City. Hollow seconds ticked by. It tasted only of the blood flooding his tongue and the bitter defeat. No love, no passion and no feelings remained in her black heart. Only the empty void and tasteless ashes… Monster. Astarte no longer… She would never hurt him…

Astarte knew him and all of his weak spots all too well. She knew how and where to strike to make it hurt. And this last kiss was only a tool to her. There wasn't any physical pain anymore when she finally pulled away with his blood painting her lips in deep crimson and let his body slip down the spear to collapse onto the shriveled grass. The last thing Abaddon saw before numbing darkness swallowed him was Astarte delightedly licking his scarlet life essence on her mouth and teeth before she hummed contentedly

"Farewell, my love. I'll see you again soon enough…"

She stood close, gazing at the distant stars shimmering in the black sky.

"The night sure is beautiful."

"It is. Even more so with you around."

"Tsk. Sweet-talker…"

In the impenetrable black, Abaddon heard nothing, saw nothing and felt nothing aside from the dull ache within his chest. Betrayal… Every beat of his heart was a torture. He couldn't even tell if it was really beating or not anymore. It bled ceaselessly. Craving for the lost love. Crying out to Astarte as something started to tug at the strings of his very soul. Trying to pull him free from his still body that refused to move no matter how much he wished to stand or at least sit up. Memories were passing all too quickly through his head. Eyes shining with uncertainty, a relieved smile as he staggered upright with a pained grimace that was supposed to be a comforting smile..

" Are you certain everything is alright? For a moment there I was afraid you were gone.."

"Never, my light. I would never leave you."

He wasn't going to the Kingdom of the Dead, he was certain. Astarte would make sure of it.. Curse Lucifer.. curse this wretched feeling still coiled in his chest, like a festering plague. Warriors of Heaven are people of unbreakable steel. Calm and collected beings of logic. But when it comes to honest feelings, there's nothing in between. They either don't care or love to the death. And when they love and it all falls apart, their hearts break like no one else's. No, they don't even break… they shatter to a million pieces like a frozen flower. And even if they are ever put back together, they're never the same. Those scars run too deep to ever disappear. Curse everything… Soft hair he tangled his fingers in, a heartbeat right beside his… warm presence next to him and a misleadingly delicate cheek pressed to the skin on top of his chest..

"What happens now then?"

"Doesn't matter. As long as we stay together."

"We will, Abaddon…"

He tasted the copper tinge of blood again as Astarte's voice echoed in his head when she swore to him. When he believed her..

I  P R O M I S E .

Those two words… They meant a world to him. Even after he saw what Astarte had become… Abaddon desperately clung to those words like a drowning man holds onto the final breath until the very last second. And that was his downfall. She promised me…

The last memory of Astarte before all this chaos wormed its way into his mind. A less pleasant one. He could see there was something wrong with her back then. This was the first time they had a true falling out. Well.. can this really be called a falling out if it was just him being yelled at? Astarte was changed already. Something happened to her after the Nephilim slaughter. Something he had foolishly overlooked. Maybe he was just too preoccupied with his own grief? Blood tumbled down from her wound, painting both her and his armor in vibrant red from where a crude spear met her body… 

It didn't take long for the last of the Nephilim to fall when this happened. She held onto life tightly as he led her deeper into the garden where healers would take care of her. Abaddon waited outside the tent, pacing back and forth until Azrael, who'd been tending to Astarte himself, walked out. A slender hand fell onto his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks and making him look at his old friend bearing a sullen expression. He'd never been so terrified in his life like in this short moment when he waited for Azrael to inevitably tell him that it was too late to help her but he merely asked Abaddon to come with him inside. Somehow, it was even worse. He saw her sitting on the edge of a cot, face pale, lips pressed into a thin line, staring at nothing. Eyes of other angels were on the three of them as the two archangels walked in. It was a relief to see her alive but there was no doubt that something was wrong. The patches of fresh crimson staining her trousers on her inner thighs only confirmed his suspicions. And Azrael didn't keep him waiting for an explanation.

"She was with child.."

The news hit him like a slug to the face. With a sack of bricks no less. Astarte, his beloved, bearing his blood in her womb. By all means he should feel ecstatic. He should rejoice. But this one word, this tiny word filled him with absolute dread. Was.

"The blade went deep.. There was nothing I could do. I'm sorry."

Who knows how long he stood there like a wooden stake? There was nothing I could do. Azrael was inarguably the best healer in the White City. He knew what he was saying. And yet… Abaddon found it difficult to believe his words. A child. His child. Died before they even had a chance to live.. It hurt more than any wound he'd ever received. When he finally could move, he approached Astarte and sat beside her, reaching for her hand to give her something to hold on to. But her violent reaction caught him off guard. She jerked away, her words dripped like acid.

"It's your fault. Get away from me!"

"Astarte, listen.."

"No! It never should've happened! Why would you do this to me?!"

This was the first time she called him per "you" in the presence of other angels. He knew not what she was truly going through but if his own sorrow was any indication, it must've been a nightmare. They'd lost something they didn't even know they had and it felt like the end of the world they'd built together. In a way, it was... Abaddon tried reaching out again but Astarte batted his hand away and leaped up to her feet despite the pain.

"Don't touch me! Do not speak to me, get off!"

"Astarte!"

He managed to call out before she stormed out of the tent, wrapping her wings around herself as a barrier that could protect her from the world around. Were it not for a firm grip on his arm, he would've gone after her. It was Nathaniel who stopped him. Abaddon looked at his friend, the right side of his face wrapped up in bandages just like his side he was keeping his hand over.

"It's not going to help. Let her go for now."

It's been a long time since he felt this lonely. He left the tent without another word, ignoring whatever it was Azrael was saying, and walked away from the camp like a wandering spectre who lost its way to the Well. And when he was far enough, he found himself collapsing on the ground, angrily hitting it with his fist as though it was the culprit here. They died without so much of a name.. Abaddon knew that what Astarte said wasn't true. He had no idea, it can't have been his fault… and yet this thought kept bothering him.

I should've protected you better. I have failed you.. both of you…

It took a couple of shaky breaths to collect his thoughts. Unable to do anything else, he pulled himself to his knees, clasped his hands together and started to whisper a prayer, seeking compassion in the Creator and his silent presence.

Astarte was already slipping after that and the prolonged stay in Eden only made it worse. She became distant and irritable, constantly itching for a fight, be it with words or blades. He thought she needed time to grieve. But this was something else. Something more sinister. Perhaps if he noticed it earlier.. done something… If only…

The odd tugging suddenly ceased and moments later a wave of comforting warmth washed all over him, gathering in his side where he was impaled. Deep within his chest, he felt his heart quiver, desperately fighting to keep beating. At first he thought he was merely waiting for Astarte to pull him back into the land of the living as a detestable abomination but no.. He yet lived. His thoughts were abruptly dispersed when he heard voices, very familiar and concerned voices, break through, the buzzing in his head.

"Did that do it?"

"Is he even alive ?"

"Hard to tell. It doesn't look good.."

"No, it doesn't.. Do you think we got to him on time?"

"I do not know. I'm not even sure if- Wait, I think he moved."

Abaddon indeed stirred, prying his eyes open with no small effort, immediately regretting his choice after a far too bright light intruded underneath his eyelids, and descending into a fit of uncontrollable coughs, spitting out all the blood that remained within as soon as he took a deeper breath. Pain. Horrible, excruciating pain filled his chest. He had been right. His sternum was definitely broken.

Damn all of it. Damn Lucifer, damn the Nephilim and damn the blasted air that hurt his lungs with every breath. Mist eventually fell from his sights, revealing to him familiar, tired faces of angelic soldiers leaning over him with distressed looks. His men. The Faneguard. They survived. Some of them at least… Malahidael wasn't so lucky.. One of them, Fariel if his memory doesn't deceive him, was holding up Abaddon's hand in his, and held between his curled fingers, Abaddon noticed an emptied crystal, a used up healing shard glimmering in the sunlight as the energy that was channelled into his body began to close the torn blood vessels.

"Lord Abaddon. Can you hear me?"

Gasping for another bit of air, horribly weakened but still very much alive and likely to stay that way, Abaddon gurgled out a disturbing sound that was supposed to be a miserable chuckle. In honesty, it sounded more like a dying demon than a laugh.. It only served to agitate them even further until he breathed out with relief and nodded as no coherent word could form in his mouth. What happened to Astarte when he was on death's door, he could only guess. But one thing he was sure of. She was still out there. Raving mad and dangerous to all who step into Eden. The law was clear. Astarte had fallen into darkness, defiled the dead and raised her weapon against her brethren. This was not an easy decision but after what he'd seen and lived through, Abaddon was certain now. He tried to bring her back, save her from the hate that grew within her like a malicious weed. But she was clearly too far gone. He couldn't help her.. Too late. As always, he was too late. Whether Abaddon likes it or not, Astarte needs to die. There was nothing more he could do for her. But he won't be the one to play the executioner and the hand of justice. He knew he couldn't. He'd failed twice already.. It will be done, just… not now.

Perhaps another time… They were safe for now. And he needed to think… Abaddon lifted his free hand to his mouth. It was still there, this horrid sensation.. and he knew it won't go away for a long, long time. Resting his head against the ground, he exhaled heavily as blessed unconsciousness started to take a hold on him once more. He needed to rest. They all did…

Even as he was falling into the dark again, he could still feel Astarte's venomous kiss upon his lips. Burning like fire and sinking cruel claws into his chest. Would he ever forgive her for tearing his heart apart? Probably. It wasn't her fault after all. It can't be, can it? Would he ever forget, though? Unlikely.. Abaddon couldn't help but wonder… if it was all his fault? He couldn't command his feelings and order them to leave him. But still, he felt guilty. Not even for Astarte's fall anymore but for ever letting this infatuation control him. That's where this love had gotten him so far. It left him weak and vulnerable. It was beautiful while it lasted but now? Only suffering remained.

No wonder Heaven has such a disdain for love. It causes naught but misery and ruin. A dire thought invaded his hazy mind. It matters not what Astarte had done. He still loved her. Soon, she will be put to rest. And him? Well.. Every, even the greatest warrior has to fall in battle. Eventually… And when that day comes, he will be ready to embrace his end. When that day comes.. they will meet again. Maybe... But until then… His heart hastened even still as he took another breath and silently told himself…

…Never again…

--------------------------------------------------

It.. it was supposed to be short? I did say short fic, didn't I? Uhh.. Whoops 😓

Also, Gimp 2 has nearly succeed in driving me nuts. In Poland we say "stand on eyelashes and clap one's ears" when something is nigh impossible. Yeah. That was that.

Btw, I take back everything I said about Abaddon's shoulder pads , they're mf'ing gorgeous 👌

[mittensmorgul]

I will always maintain that Dabb's finale's titles are incredibly meta and foreshadow the coming events. Given that this finale was titled Moriah (and I'm going back and forth on whether we got Jehovahjireh in the form of Sam), I can't help but speculate that S15 is going to be the transition from Old Testament to New Testament. There's a good reason why we never got a Christ figure before S13.

Hello from my inbox circa three weeks ago... >.>

(sorry I’m so far behind, but I’m still randomly spelunking through older messages and trying to reply as I can)

I had to google what Jehovahjireh meant, and I... don’t think that’s what we got in the literal sense of the term, but maybe something along these lines, from this article: https://www.gotquestions.org/Jehovah-Jireh.html:

The account of Abraham on Mt. Moriah thus becomes more than a dramatic illustration of faith and obedience. It is a presentation of the Lord’s eternal grace, continual provision, and all-encompassing wisdom. Jehovah-Jireh is not “The LORD Did Provide,” but “The LORD Will Provide.” In other words, the name does not simply memorialize a past event; it anticipates a future action.

With the highly ironic twist that God himself literally engineered this entire encounter in the first place. Which, again, is yet another nod to the spiral narrative, and this story that Chuck’s been telling and retelling literally forever. All of this has happened before, but Sam, Dean, and Cas have just leveled up and seen that bigger picture. And yay, I get to haul out one of the three gifs I’ve ever made, from 8.12:

Well, TFW just finally found a parking spot and stood their ground. Chuck did provide, and if they demonstrate faith in his instructions, he will provide all of this again-- all of this suffering, this horrific “I did what I had to do,” “I didn’t have a choice” moment where they must sacrifice everything to save the world again. And again and again and again...

Team Free Will, who have sacrificed so much over and over again in the name of preserving humanity and free will for everyone else, have never truly had it for themselves. Thanks, Chuck, for keeping them trapped in this narrative loop for the sake of drama, for the sake of watching his favorite characters reenact his favorite plot and never letting them enjoy any of the rewards for a job well done, you know?

That said, to me, Dabb’s season finale titles are more about pointing out this spiral narrative than they are about foreshadowing. Because seriously, what even is the point of foreshadowing within a cyclical narrative? Dabb didn’t NEED to foreshadow anything on the grand scale, because it’s all happened before, and it will all happen again... Let me explain.

Alpha and Omega. Dabb’s first season finale, in a season where he quietly took over the showrunner reins from Jeremy Carver somewhere shortly after midseason (and an argument can be made that he was already aware this shift was imminent when he wrote 11.10, even if it wasn’t official yet, seeing as how he began steering the narrative around this point...). This was arguably the culmination of one round of this Grand Narrative, hitting all the major plot points Chuck has included in every round-- sacrifice (Dean volunteering to “be the bomb,”), everyone working toward the common goal and all of them willing to make the ultimate sacrifice in the name of saving the universe again.

Alpha and Omega is “the beginning and the ending.” Or “the first and the last.” It’s referenced in the Book of Revelation. And 11.23 is an ending in many ways... the ending of that particular chapter in the mytharc of Supernatural, the ending of Chuck and Amara’s separation, the technical ending of the Carver Era, the end of s11 itself. But it’s also full of beginnings... the beginning of Dabb Era, the beginning of the next chapter in the mytharc of Supernatural (with the introduction of the BMoL and the unfridging of Mary Winchester that had begun the original era of Supernatural in 1.01, so in a sense Mary’s reappearance is both a Beginning AND an Ending... it’s spirals all the way down, my dudes). And it was narratively the beginning of TFW’s era serving as the “caretakers” of the Universe in Chuck’s supposed absence... that worked out great, right?

But this was always the story Dabb wanted to tell. His intent was always to point at the curtain, to draw our attention away from the Big Scary Glowing Head with all the smoke and mirrors and begin nudging us all to recognize the curtain over in the corner of the room where you could see some dude’s feet down at the bottom. He’s spent his entire tenure as showrunner effectively teaching us all how this entire story functions. More on this in a second, but first let’s look at 12.23:

All Along The Watchtower. There has been so much meta written about just this title alone, going back to even before the episode aired:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/tagged/all%20along%20the%20watchtower/chrono

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/tagged/*all%20along%20the%20watchtower%20plays%20in%20the%20distance*/chrono

I’ve begun refiling all these posts under this tag:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/tagged/it%27s-spirals-all-the-way-down/chrono

but I got derailed somewhere around 11.05, so there’s a gap... I need to get back to that retagging project someday >.>

I don’t know if you’ve ever watched Battlestar Galactica, but (spoiler alert), All Along The Watchtower was literally the magical key that unlocked the entire narrative, on pretty much every level-- in story, the notes of the song itself functioned as the “magic spell” that unlocked the Heroine’s Journey for the character of Kara Thrace, the narrative structure of the entire series which (surprise!) bore out to be a Grand Loop of a Spiral where the ending of the old story was simultaneously the same beginning of the same story, and the overarching structure of the divinity of that entire universe:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/184126770915/justanotheridijiton

And I think that’s why Dabb chose this as his title here. He couldn’t possibly have chosen a more on-the-nose title, honestly... for an episode full of endings and beginnings, a window (or portal) onto a “failed world,” the birth of possibly either hope or destruction (or both simultaneously) with Jack, Castiel’s first True Death (wingprints and all!), and yet another revolution of the Same Story, the same song sung over again. Which brings us to 

Let The Good Times Roll: Heck my dudes, for whom did any good times actually roll in this episode? For Michael? Who defeated “his Lucifer” over in that “failed universe,” finally getting another chance to “do it right?” Wherein his idea of “doing it right” was simply to change a few elements like customizing Ikea cabinets with different drawer pulls and maybe the oak finish instead of the cherry? His goal was always still the same, you know? Even if his methods were different simply due to circumstance (no angel army in this world, so he picked monsters instead). For Dean? Who thought at the beginning of the episode that they might finally be getting ahead of the game and maybe were reaching a point where they didn’t have to shoulder the burdens of the world (talking about “toes in the sand” again at the beginning of the episode before Michael and Lucifer broke back into this world), and then by the end had finally lost everything that Cas had been fighting against since he first rebelled in 4.22, giving in and saying Yes to Michael, and then losing his free will entirely, completely overridden by Michael in a way that even Dean revoking his consent couldn’t evict him again? For Jack, who had his grace torn out by his father and was sent on a crash course in humanity, loss, sacrifice, love, and death? I mean, this was just a rolling around of the narrative again, forcing everyone to face this Worst Case Scenario of the apocalypse finally jumping back on the tracks again, even with Lucifer dead and Michael having killed him. Because Michael never wanted anything different than Lucifer did-- the end of the world, by whatever means necessary. There is no paradise on Earth, merely destruction and rebirth in an endless cycle that Michael wanted to bring to an end.

It’s spirals all the way down, and the archangels just... don’t even have the ability to recognize that, let alone consider defying it.

Hello, 7.21: DEAN: Oh, I don't know, man. What can I say? You've been chosen. And it sucks. Believe me. There's no use asking "why me?" 'Cause the angels – they don't care. I think maybe they just don't have the equipment to care. Seems like when they try, it just... breaks them apart.

Because in Dabb era, it’s kinda clear that that should’ve been the angels’ goal all along.

So instead of an ending (despite several things ending-- like Lucifer and Dean’s free will), we also have a fresh beginning. Welcome to Apocalypse Again.

Which finally brings us to

Moriah. More beginnings, more endings, but more importantly, the first actual transcendence of the narrative spiral by the characters themselves. TFW finally managed to throw back the curtain and see the weaselly lil dude standing behind it. And this has always, ALWAYS been Dabb’s endgame gambit. Every turn of the narrative up to this point has been leading up to this moment of syzygy where every character, every plot element, finally aligned for them to look through all the narrative loops and finally see the truth at the center of the story.

Here’s where I start detouring for the sake of clarity. Bear with me while this becomes murky as pea soup before finally coming back together. This post I wrote five days after 12.23 aired basically called this out:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/160988290690/12-while-i-do-not-ask-this-to-be-negative-at

And used this graphic in that post to explain shifting the viewer’s perspective on the narrative structure in order to understand the bigger picture of what the show is telling us with the narrative:

And this is what I mean by narrative syzygy. TFW-- inside the story-- have finally found themselves standing at the correct angle where all the plot points have lined up, and they can now see the universe looking directly back at them, quite literally. They finally, in story, have the full picture of where they stand versus God and the Universe.

And it’s unsettling!

But back to the point I abandoned before this detour. If you’re thinking of Moriah only in relation to the Abraham/Isaac story, you are missing fully half the relevant reference. You only need to look back to the very beginning of Jack’s life, and 13.02, to recall the other specific biblical reference relevant to Moriah: Solomon’s temple. (yes, I recognize that David built an altar there, and other temples have been built there, but Solomon has specifically been connected to Jack from the start, so we’re gonna go with his construction of the temple... but it is relevant to bear in mind the cycle of sacrifice, death, destruction, rebirth, and rebuilding all associated with Mt. Moriah, too).

The Big Reveal in 14.20-- everything from Jack’s “stop lying” and the ensuing chaos to Chuck’s hand being forced when his guys threw down the gun and refused to act out this specific sacrifice in a graveyard-- literally a place filled with monuments to the dead, including a statue/fountain of Mary and a rusted fence surrounding a tomb that looks suspiciously temple-like:

Birth, Death, Sacrifice, Faith, all in a never ending cycle. The characters have been trapped in this loop since the beginning of time, or at least since 1.01, unwittingly living out the same story over and over again, but each time leveling up in some way, and gaining perspective on another element of the narrative on each go-around. Each time through the loop, they may have faced the same Big Picture-- the current iteration of the Big Bad, the family dynamics, the struggle for personal growth, and their understanding of the universe in general and their places in it specifically. This is the Grand Story of Supernatural, on every level.

But now, in this final spiral of the story, the circle has finally been broken, and our guys are now aware that that gif I used above from 8.12 is literally the story of their entire lives, and they have confronted the source of that fact and finally broken free from it.

Cue the zombies. Because heck Chuck is mad they broke his story, and it looks like he doesn’t accept defeat graciously...

TFW only has one more Big Bad to defeat-- the story itself.

[existentialstatesofmind]

Opening up

Clare: was surprised Kota changed his mind. “It’s only an hour show. I guess that means you don’t want me to come over at all now?” She tried to remember if he’d actually invited her or had she read too much into things and assumed she was welcome. Kota had said Emi wouldn’t be there and they talked about hanging out later after she went to the mall. Kota and Melanie even asked if they could pick her up. Of course Melanie wanted to go bowling so it did all add up to a long day. Clare hadn’t spent the night lately because Yohio had been staying at his house but she thought maybe he’d sleep in Kota’s brothers room just this once. “Never mind. We probably are going to run out of time. I’ll go over to Adam’s and watch TV in the Torres’ basement instead.” She said honestly. If Clare stayed up all night, she could go home in the morning and sleep all day. Barely have to see her parents. She listened to Kota and chuckled. He was so cute. “Sounds good! I like eggs and ham.” Clare kissed him and whispered, “Never ever” against his lips. “If you didn’t, we really would be over.” She teased back. “Oh my god, I never believed people really ate cat and dog in foreign countries.” As the list got longer, Clare kept shaking her no. “The only thing I might try is octopus. I’m mostly going to play it safe.” She admitted. “Yes! You’re going to prove to my parents you can succeed at both, at the same time. Maybe I’ll get permission to date you and get an after school job.” Clare joked. She wanted their approval but she wouldn’t give Kota up. She kissed him enthusiastically. That was like the last happy moment. Clare had never seen this side of Kota before and it was scary. “Our paths haven’t crossed yet. The newspaper has a separate staff and I just joined.” She explained not knowing if Todd also submitted any of the pictures he took to Katie. She didn’t know what grade Todd was in, they might have shared classes but Clare never noticed him. “None of that explains why you want to rip his head off.” She said huffily. Clare smiled awkwardly at Anya when Kota asked if they could talk later because he wasn’t alone. It was humiliating not knowing what was going on with her own boyfriend. Clare’s face flushed. She couldn’t spend the night but Anya could? What the hell? Her hand flew up to cover her mouth when Kota called Todd a rapist. She was stunned into silence. After Anya left and Kota told her and Melanie what he’d witnessed, Clare looked at Kota in a daze. “I’d believe Anya no matter what.” She only knew Anya through Sav and Alli. Knew OF her would be more accurate but girls didn’t make up stories like that. She couldn’t help comparing Anya to her sister. Being raped destroyed Darcy. “Anya must feel so alone right now. She came forward and put herself through more hell, for nothing. I get why you feel powerless and want to take things into your own hands but if you and Owen both get arrested, who is going to protect Anya from Todd? From herself?” Clare gulped. “Todd also wants to go on the Japan trip. If you get booted from it, Simpson might let him take your place. He is that stupid. He’d let an international incident happen before he did anything about Todd.”

Kota: looked at Clare when she mentioned going over. "No, you can still come over and watch TV. I forgot to review the sales intake and record how much goes to taxes and factor out the paychecks for my employees before I leave. I need that done to give to my grandpa so he knows how much MB makes each month." he shrugged. "Clare, you can still come over, most of it is done by computer and I can type about 40wmp so it shouldn't take me that long. Maybe thirty minutes or so..." he assured. He listened to everything Clare had to say, nodding along and chuckled when she started to shake her head no. "I won't eat octopus. I mean, Emi likes it and all. But she says that the suckers on the tentacles are really chewy and get stuck to the roof of her mouth. Doesn't seem like my cup of tea. I don't even chew gum because it gets stuck between my teeth." he explained his reasoning for not eating it. "If you want an after school job I can pay you to babysit Emi..." he offered and looked at Clare when she said she'd believe Anya. "Thank you." he smirked and nodded. "She does, she's terrified of sleeping in her room. That's the effect of drinking. You get drunk and you feel sleepy, but while it feels like you're sleeping you're not. You're still very much conscious and well aware of what's going on, but you can't move. Or at least that's what the guys told me and Anya told me." he shrugged. "I asked why she didn't scream after everything was taken care of and she said the most she could do was shake her head no and cry. Just keep this between us because she doesn't want anyone else knowing." he asked and watched as Mel agreed not to tell anyone, though she didn't know anyone to tell and listened to Clare. "Clare, I'm not going to get arrested. If anything I'll get suspended and Simpson can't take my spot away. We're taking my jet since it's free and I forgot to tell you this, but I need you to watch Emi on the way back from Japan. She'll have everything she needs and games, and the attendants will get food and what not just like they would if I were there with you.-" "Did you finally get your license?" Mel asked hopeful. "No I have to be 17, but I got my permit since I lied about my age with help from Owen and took a few of the classes they're allowing me to co-pilot." he added and looked at Clare. "I'm going to be the co-pilot on the way home, if I don't go because of Simpson he either has to pay for plane tickets at a little over a grand per student which the school can't afford. I really doubt Simpson wants to be the reason the trip gets canceled especially since everything's been set up." he explained as they walked in the mall, then to the food court. "What are you getting?" he asked looking at Clare.