#human perch 2.0

[m0rninglatte]

Ven has become human perch 2.

[laura1633]

I think if I had a penny for every time Max's friends (cough crane) said he got impregnated I would have like three pennies. Which isn't a lot but it's weird it happened thrice.

ALSO, the anon that said hybrid au, this isn't exaclty hybrid au but imagine Max gets cursed as a cat/dog because some crazed fan was angry he kept winning. Entire grid is in shambles wondering where he is but there's just this cute animal running along the track (and leo seems to like him) so everyone just named him max 2.0 until they can find max. Cue max sneaking himself in Charles' room somehow and he hears how worried charles' is over him because he loves him and it causes max to whine out loud. This causes charles' to inspect the noise and just see's animal max on the floor whining so he picks him up and maybe kisses him on the nose because he just loves animals but this causes max to transform back into human.

Haha Crane really is just out there saying what everyone else is thinking 😂

Ahhhh I this is so so so cute 🥰 and the idea of Max being a cute little animal and being cuddled by Charles just makes me smile

I think after the kiss Max will be too busy nuzzling Charles to realise he has changed back into his human form.. and then he suddenly looks up and realises he is perched in Charles' lap and rubbing against him.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Flufftober Day 3 | Together, forever

Pairing | Iron Man!Tony Stark x Avenger!Female!Reader

Word count | 3.1K

Summary | You and Tony have been head over heels in love with one another for as long as you can remember. It isn't until someone is getting injured and nearly loses their life that your feelings come out, and both of you wish you would have shared your feelings sooner, especially after seeing how fragile a human life is.

Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Coworkers to lovers, mutual pining, use of pet name (Angel), angst (near-death experience, mentions of blood/bleeding out, multiple gunshot wounds), smut (Fingering, protected sex).

Prompt | 3. ''Wait, you love me?'' ''I always have'' | @flufftober Prompt | ''I love you so much, you have no idea to what limits I'd go to prove that to you.'' | @vase-of-lilies

A/n | This one shot is written for day 3 of my Flufftober 2023 Challenge and Mays500challenge! The second I saw these prompts, I couldn't get this idea with Tony out of my head, so here I am providing you all with my fluffiest thoughts about this man 🖤

A/n 2.0 | I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for helping me brainstorm and giving me some ideas to bring this fic to the next level, as well as proofreading this for me! It's very much appreciated, and I hope you love what I ended up with 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🧡

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | GIF credit to the owner This GIF has been found on Pinterest, but I sadly can't find the original pin anymore since I forgot to save it. If you have the link to the original GIF, please let me know so I can credit it accordingly!

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | Flufftober Masterlist

You're currently on your daily run on the treadmill when the alarm for a mission goes off, and you sigh deeply before turning the machine off and heading towards the locker room to shower and get changed into your tactical suit quickly.

However, before you officially go to the jet and on the mission, you decide to go and see Tony for a bit of encouragement; you'll need it.

You knock on Tony's office door, and he opens the door with a curious look. Who would be bothering him at a moment like this? But as soon as he sees your face, everything is forgotten, and he gives you an inviting smile.

''A penny for your thoughts, Angel?'' he says before you walk into his office and perch yourself on the edge of his desk. His eyes glide over every last inch of your bodysuit, which is made for stealth and can house every last knife or other weapon you might need to carry.

''Just nerves, at the moment...'' you sigh before you close your eyes and take a deep breath. The last time you went on a mission like this, you lost some people who were very near and dear to your heart.

''I know, Angel and I'd say there's no need to be nervous, but that wouldn't be true. But you know what is true? The fact that you're one of the best fighters I know. And because of you, we will get through this together, and there won't be a repeat of what happened last time.''

He walks towards you and places his hands on your cheeks before lifting your head so he can look at you.

''I'll make sure there won't be a repeat of last time,'' he whispers. Before you can answer, he pulls you in for a reassuring hug that may have lingered longer than usual.

''Thank you, Tony,'' you whisper before you let him go, and you walk to the jet together. He's holding your hand, and right before the jet comes into sight, your hand slips out of his, much to the dismay of Tony.

After one more deep breath, you walk into the jet and find your usual place in a corner in the back. You pull up your knees to your chest and let your head rest on them until you're at the site of arrival.

''You coming with us, Angel?'' Tony asks, and you take a deep breath before stretching out your hand and letting him grab it. He pulls you up in a fluid motion, and this time, it's his hand sliding out of yours. With it, you also feel a piece of your heart leaving right alongside him.

You only have a little time to think about that, however, because the mission is a lot more complicated, especially compared to the last time you were under an alien attack.

Not only are there aliens, but also lots of people with guns and other weapons, so it takes a lot of work to keep track of everyone. The one person you have your eye on at all times, though, is Tony.

''Watch out!'' you say as you run towards him and push him out of the way of an incoming stream of bullets, which hit you in the chest and abdomen, as well as a few in your legs.

You come down with a loud thud, and you grunt at the impact, pain shooting sharply through your veins, muscles, and every inch of your body while you're losing a lot of blood.

''Man down!'' Tony shoots through the comms in his helmet, and JARVIS instantly alerts the medical team in the Compound. There is a different jet on the way to pick you up from the battlefield, but until that time, Tony is staying on your side.

''Oh my god, Angel, why did you do that?! My suit would have saved me! Fuck, please stay with me, Angel! Please, I can't lose you, not like this, not while I didn't have the chance to tell you how much I love you...'' he says between his sobs that are wreaking through his body.

You slip in and out of consciousness, and because of that, you don't hear everything Tony says, and it most definitely doesn't land that he's confessing his love for you right now.

''I can't lose you, Angel; please stay with me. Stay with me so we can see each other on the other side, okay? I love you too damn much to lose you! Please, I can't lose you, Angel...'' he says while clutching your body to his chest, despite you having lost all consciousness at this moment.

''I love you so much, you have no idea to what limits I'd go to prove that to you,'' Tony whispers to you, and that's when the EMT arrives, and they take you away gracefully.

The jet flies away in an instant, and while you're in the air, they take all necessary steps to ensure you'll stay alive, and the first blood transfusion is given to replenish your blood.

''FUCK!'' Tony exclaims loudly, and it's as if a switch inside him is flipped because he is slaying every single monster and person in sight. The beast inside him took over, and before anyone even knew what was happening, the battle was won.

Tony flew back to the Compound in his suit, not wanting to wait until everyone was on the jet, and he was back within no time. All he did was change out of his Iron Man suit and rush to the medbay, but what he saw was far from pretty.

There you are, behind a large glass wall where only doctors and nurses can be with you. Tubes are coming out of you everywhere, and he sees the heart monitor showing a steady rhythm.

''How is she?'' Tony clamps to the first doctor who walks out of the room you're lying in, all alone.

''Considering the circumstances, she's doing okay. There were a total of 7 bullets found and removed, of which five were lodged in her chest and abdomen, the last two being in her leg. One of them missed her heart by a minimal margin, so she got lucky,'' the doctor tells him, and all he feels is relief.

You're alive, albeit on life support, but you survived it, and that's all that matters right now. Tears are streaming down his face as he pulls the doctor in for a hug, all while constantly thanking them for saving your life.

''She will need to stay in here for at least a week, and after that, we're going to see if she can come off life support and be brought back to consciousness. Until then, she will stay here so she can be watched closely 24 hours a day,'' the doctor explains, and then he gets paged away.

This week, Tony rarely left his place in front of the window, always watching you for any changes. He only went to use the toilet and take showers, but he barely ate and drank, unable to keep anything down while still nervous.

After the first week, you are ready to come off life support, and Tony is allowed to be by your side when it happens.

''Are you ready, Mr. Stark? She won't wake up immediately, but it won't be long before she's conscious,'' the nurse tells him, and he nods in understanding.

''Can I- I mean, is it okay if I hold her hand?'' he asks in a low voice, and the nurse nods, so he carefully grabs your hand, afraid that if he accidentally squeezes too hard, he'll hurt you.

Tony has been sitting by your side for nearly three hours when he suddenly feels a faint squeeze in his hand. At first, he's not even sure he felt it, but when he sees your eyes slowly opening, he shoots out of his chair, and his hand softly brushes against your cheek.

''Angel, thank God you're alive,'' he whispers as the tears flow down his cheeks again. Even after all the ones he's shed, more are still coming, but seeing your eyes looking at him again is worth more than anything.

He has his Angel back; this time, he isn't planning to let you go. He won't let anything bad happen to you again.

The few weeks following the incident are filled with a lot of physical therapy, regular therapy, and even more memory loss. You don't remember much from the incident, and you hit your head pretty badly, meaning you have lost some things from before that as well.

But the one constant which you're very thankful for is Tony. Since you woke up, he has been by your side, no questions asked. Each time you have an appointment, Tony is there.

''Mornin', my beautiful Angel, are you ready to have breakfast before your therapy session today?'' Tony asks after you've put on a comfy outfit before he arrives.

''Yeah, I've been craving some strawberries for a few days, and I'm finally allowed to eat some more solid foods, according to the doctor,'' you say, already salivating at the thought of eating normal food again.

''Aren't you just a lucky duck then, because we have gotten some fresh ones in our grocery delivery this morning!'' Tony tells you as you hook your arm through his, and you shuffle to the kitchen.

The bullet wounds in your leg, abdomen, and chest are slowly healing, but you're still in quite a bit of pain, so walking doesn't come naturally to you yet. Lucky for you, you always have Tony by your side.

''You can sit down, Angel, and I'll get you your breakfast, okay?'' he tells you, kissing you on your head after you sit down to watch him intently. Watching him make breakfast is one of your favorite parts of the day, as dull as that may sound.

Whenever you're not busy with appointments or sleeping, you find yourself in Tony's lab, watching his every move while he talks to you about what he's doing.

''Here you go, Angel, eat up,'' he says as he puts a bowl of yogurt and a small bowl of strawberries in front of you. He takes his place before you, and you eat peacefully, enjoying each other's company.

''Hmm, these taste so good!'' you say as you take a bite of a strawberry, and the sweet flavor explodes in your mouth.

When breakfast is over, he takes you to your therapy session again, and this routine keeps going on for a few more weeks until he suddenly has an appointment he can't get out of, and you have to go by yourself.

It just so happens that this appointment unlocks some core memories inside of you, namely the ones of Tony confessing his undying love to you when you were slipping in and out of consciousness.

''I- I'm sorry, but I have to go!'' you say before rushing out of the office you were situated in, and you run to Tony's lab, where he's currently with Steve, to work on his shield after it broke during a recent mission.

You swing open the door, and that's when the words fly out of your mouth. As soon as you've grabbed him by his shoulders, it's like a waterfall of words, and now he knows how you feel, too.

''I- I remember, Tony! I remember your confession on the battlefield about how much you love me, and- and I love you too! I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember, and I'm so sorry for not remembering sooner!'' you spew out in a stream.

''Wait, you love me?'' he asks, but your answer is everything he needs to hear.

''I always have, Tony,'' you say before holding his face gently and standing on your tiptoes to capture his lips in the softest, sweetest first kiss you could have both wished for. Steve is already forgotten, but he's happy for both of you.

''Congratulations, you two, and I'm glad to hear your memory is coming back,'' Steve says before turning around and leaving you two in your little bubble.

That evening, Tony invites you to his apartment in the Compound. The entire living area is lit with candles in multiple sizes, giving the room an almost ethereal glow as you walk in.

''I want to use this moment to tell you about my feelings for you, Angel, because I couldn't this morning. I took the time to think about it and to let it sink in, and I love you too, more than words can ever express,'' he starts before he pulls you close and starts swaying back and forth to the soft music.

''Ever since you walked into my office that first day, I couldn't get you out of my mind or sight. You're so incredibly special to me, and seeing you catch those bullets for me only cemented my love for you. As stupid as it was for you to do that, it only made me admire you more. I love you, I am in love with you, and I want you to be mine,'' he whispers the last part in your ear, giving you goosebumps.

''Please, make me yours,'' you say before slotting your lips together in a slow, sensual kiss. He ducks down to grab the backs of your legs, and he carries you to the bedroom, which is equally lit with candles, and the bed is covered in rose petals.

It's almost as if he knew this would be happening tonight.

He places you on the bed, and he doesn't waste any time slipping off your leggings and tank top. The light blue lingerie it reveals has his breath hitching, and you know it was the right move to put it on.

''You look like a Goddess right now,'' he says as you lay back with your head on the pillows, and he takes off his pants and shirt, too, before crawling up the bed and over you.

''God, I can't believe what I've been missing out on all this time,'' he says as he takes off your bra, revealing your soft breasts and stiff nipples to him.

His head ducks down, and you think he will be going to your nipple, but nothing could be less true. He places a featherlight kiss on the scar on your chest where the bullet hits you right by your heart.

He continues his way down all seven scars while whispering how beautiful and brave you are and how proud he is of you. When he does that, you can't help but let the tears escape, and by the time he is at your last scar, you can't fight back the sobs.

''It's okay, Angel; I know it's difficult for you, but I'm incredibly proud of you after everything you've gone through. You've gone through something so traumatic, and here you are, stronger than ever, more beautiful than ever,'' he says.

''I love you so much, Tony; thank you for being there for me after everything. Thank you for doing this right now, and most of all, thank you for loving me. I love you so much it hurts, and I want to be yours, so please, make me yours,'' you whisper against his lips.

He kisses you slowly, passionately while his fingers slide into your panties and explore your folds until he's found your clit, making you arch into him.

He doesn't take long to work you open, and before you know it, he's wrapped and sliding into you smoothly. The stretch is delicious, and when he slides into the hilt, you feel yourself relax.

''Now I'm not letting you go, Angel,'' he tells you, and you're more than okay with that.

Tony sets a slow pace to make sure you're comfortable but also to make this moment last as long as possible. There's only one first time, and he wants this one to be perfect.

When the two of you finally reach your peaks, you're exhausted, and Tony pulls you carefully against his chest before letting you fall asleep.

Your first time was perfect, and he can't wait to see what the rest of your lives together will look like.

It's been about 12 years since the attack on New York that nearly cost you your life. In this time, you and Tony got engaged and married, and to top it all off, you have welcomed your beautiful boy, Harley Isaac Stark, into this world.

''Mommy? How did you and Daddy meet?'' Harley asks as you're cuddling with him on the couch. Tony is getting something to drink for all three of you before movie night.

''Well, that's a long story. Are you sure you want to hear that now? Because if I tell you, there might not be as much time for your movie,'' you say, but he shrugs.

''That's okay, I like how you tell stories, Mommy,'' he says, and it warms your heart. You give him an extra tight squeeze before Tony returns and settles in with the both of you.

And that's how you tell him everything. From the moment you became an Avenger and met Tony to the moment you got shot and how extremely worried Tony was then. But most of all, you tell him how in love the two of you were back then and how that love has only grown over time.

Harley listens with a very concentrated face, and you can't help but chuckle when you're done telling the story. You give him a soft kiss on the crown of his head before giving Tony a small peck on his lips.

''I love you, Angel,'' he tells you, and you will never get enough of hearing these words from his lips.

''Mommy? You are the absolute BEST hero in the entire world!'' Harley says, and you can't help but laugh loud at the face Tony pulls. He can't hide his dissatisfaction over his sons' words, especially since he's Iron Man.

''It's a good thing I love you,'' Tony groans to his son before leaning over to tickle him completely senseless.

''D-Daddy! S-s-stohohohop!'' he tries to say between laughing and mumbling, and he eventually does.

''Who's the best hero in this world?'' Tony said teasingly, and he couldn't be more satisfied with the answer his son gave him.

''You're both the best heroes in this world because you are my Mommy and Daddy!''

[tacogoats]

I’m replaying Lightfall on Legendary, which is a first  for me because I’m dogshit at this game but I’m gonna put some thoughts below on what I think so far, along with some thoughts about posts I’m reading now that I’m not at risk of spoilers:

So honestly I gotta get this out of the way first but I thought Lightfall was kind of mid. Like, a 6.5/10 at best; I think the emphasis on Strand hurt the narrative a lot and it felt more like “Strand, the Campaign” rather than fighting off the forces of the Witness and saving Neomuna and all. It’s not an uncommon complaint either - I’m seeing tons of people complaining about Strand taking too much of a stage presence, and I kind of agree, but anyway...

Nimbus took some time to grow on me because I was expecting a much darker tone to the story and the ‘peppy rookie’ was irritating sometimes (particularly when I was mid-fighting), but I’m told the Exotic quest has some very insightful commentary from them, and it’s just how they cope with their loss and the pressure on them now that they aren’t ‘the rookie’ anymore. So, while I said that I was done with the campaign I still have the post-campaign to do, and knowing *that* bit of info I think a second look at Nimbus is actually putting them in a much better light to me now. I think they’re a good balance to cranky Osiris who is constantly yelling at the YW to push themselves harder and harder, and who isn’t taking any bullshit. I’ll get to Osiris in a bit too, but I am actually looking forward to how Nimbus evolves from here since we have them as basically representing Neptune now. I’ve just gotten to the ‘restoring the graves’ kind of thing for past Cloudstriders and it’s lovely to look at the legacy Nimbus is carrying. I hope we can bring them out into the world and show them places like the Dreaming City, or the Tower. I’ve heard some quips from them picking up bounties about their amazement of the outside world and I hope they get to see it and aren’t confined to their little bounty perch.

I really love the whole “everyone is standing together” part of the story with humanity, the Awoken, Eliksni and Cabal standing against a new Collapse, so I hope we see Neomuna stand with us sooner than later in physical presence, too. I screamed in joy when Caiatl showed up, and also want to kind of touch on those words of warning she gave us when she rescued us, because oh boy are we ever reckless... and so is someone else!

So... now Osiris.

Seen a lot of hate thrown his way, and I don’t understand any of it. I think people are mischaracterizing him and his behaviour is just going way over their heads. I DO think it’s a bit easy to miss conversations in this game though so I will throw some understanding to newer players who maybe didn’t see the little holo conversation Saint-14 had with him and who maybe don’t Know him, but still. He’s reckless, stubborn, and very, very driven to the point it teeters into obsession - and he’s living all that through the YW because he is no longer a Lightbearer and can’t throw himself at problems like he used to, so of course he comes off as pushy and mean, he *is*, but it’s because of what was stripped from him. Did people forget he’s spent years being a puppet, basically? He woke up to a changed world and lost his best friend, his Ghost, and now has to deal with an imminent Collapse 2.0 in a world he hardly recognizes with how fast things have changed (for the better, but it’s still a change!) And he was always a cranky old guy! Of course he’s gonna be cranky, but he’s not *stupid.* He reigns it in when called out on his bullshit. He is capable of stepping back and taking a moment to *think*, and he does it. He and Nimbus are excellent partners for that kind of thing too, and I look forward to seeing more of it from these two queer folk from different walks of life.

But uh, Caiatl’s warning? Yeah, I’m kind of hoping for a Real beatdown moment for us. That shit was ominous and Osiris has been kind of overbearing with his ordering us and pushing us more and more. I came from playing FFXIV where the PC, the Warrior of Light, is very much used as a tool for people - and a certain character calls it out to the person who does it the most, and it’s a wakeup call for them. I think the game does a decent job of having the characters acknowledge they push and shove us into danger constantly - because, unfortunately, we’re the only one who can meet the challenge and come out of it - but we’re a person at the end of the day, too. I think YW is in need of that moment where they have to lose, and the cast has to recognize they can’t rely on the YW for everything. I think we’ll be approaching that in the Seasonal story, (I hope), with how the civilians want to do their own part in the fight for Earth. I think the hesitancy to shoot our Ghost in that ending cinematic was fantastic, but Give Me More.

Disclaimer: I have only come back to D2 with the Witch Queen expansion, so if a moment like that has really happened already and I missed it - oops. I’m doing my best to keep up with the story but I do miss things, and I am not counting Forsaken for a plethora of reasons that kind of merits its own post.

So, now the Seasonal story which has some of my big gripes because I’m a little fucking creature who has latched on to Crow like a leech who won’t let go. :)

I came back to D2 after not having played since the Curse of Osiris expac, and I landed back in mid-Season of the Haunted. I had to do a lot of googling as to why Uldren Sov (I had seen the Forsaken cutscenes because an old friend was still playing during that, so I knew who him) was now going by the name Crow and was our buddy. I had to google what a ‘Savathun’ was lmao; I was a very casual player who’s first experience to D2 was the Red War - only picking it up because I could buy it with WoW tokens back when D2 was on the Battle.net App. (Yeah... so...I went crazy farming flowers in WoW, and bought D2...)

So, basically I didn’t know jack shit. I had landed in a Strike or something at one point and heard Amanda talking to Crow and totally thought they were cute as fuck and hoped it would go somewhere.

And then I landed in Season of the Haunted and she blasted him for being Uldren, and basically all of Uldren’s crimes. And I was kind of upset.

Aaannndd now we’re in Season of Defiance and that blowup is still definitely hanging between them and it sucks.

Now again I’m prefacing this with Crow is my special little blorbo whom I would like to lovingly chew on like a dog toy, and also as someone who loves toxic relationship dynamics - I am staring directly in all my horrible little men I ship - but wow. This ain’t the fun kind of toxic relationship. It’s just... sad.

Crow’s taken nothing but huge Ls since waking up as a Guardian and it’s not fun seeing him continue to take them into the mess of a love life attempt Bungie is wringing him through. I don’t think it’s cute how he’s basically on his knees groveling to Amanda while she is totally fine shooting the poor guy. It doesn’t matter that he can come back - she killed him, why is he still chasing her? Guy isn’t about to get a break either because Mara is Right There and is another character effectively haunting him, especially now that he has Uldren’s memories to boot. I am in absolute awe this poor man hasn’t snapped like a twig under all this mental hell he keeps enduring - most of his existence has been torture porn. I recently discovered how his time was spent before falling into Spider’s hell for him and just... wow.

I’m seeing a lot of people post about him ‘flirting’ with his ‘I’m so beefy’ joke and like. It didn’t clock as a joke to me, it’s that awkward ‘haha yeaaahh you totally shot me, I guess it was an accident, right?’ and her totally blowing that off - and then in the next battleground (which, I love the battlegrounds!) I did he makes a comment about how he hates dying to falling, and she snaps back at how she went to easy on him with the shotgun? Girl. What is wrong with you? Am I supposed to be cheering for these two to hook up eventually, Bungie? Because before this I had to listen to him groveling to her about how he could make things up to her - like he’s the problem here and not her seeing him as Uldren.

I LOVE the idea that some people can’t let it go but like we’re really doing this this late in the game with the Witness up in our asses? And then trying to have HIM chase her? Nooooo thank you. I kept wishing for Crow to appear in content again but now I’m regretting it lmao. It’s souring the seasonal story for me a bit, honestly. I’m not really looking forward to how this is gonna inevitably blow up, OR, worse: Amanda ‘takes him back’ after some more groveling on his end. It just isn’t fun to watch, at all.

On a more positive note I am elated Devrim is back and has a beautiful new title that keeps him relevant! Queensguard! I also found out he’s gay and it gives me life seeing all the queer folk in this game. :) I wish little babygay me knew how gay this game was going to be back when I had first bought it because I was still with my shit ex, I think it would’ve launched me out of the closet a bit faster lmao

I’m gonna probably add more later as I’m at work and have been darting between this and work for the past couple of hours. I want to add some more on Caiatl and the environmental storytelling of Neomuna. 

[every-bad-thing]

You Hear Something at Night

( "'I Can't Stand The Rain'" by CJS*64 is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0. ) You're asleep in your room one night when you're woken up by a tap, tap, tapping in the corner. Your ears perk up and listen for a few seconds, but it sounds just like a branch against your window. Probably just the wind or something, nothing to worry about. You roll over and go back to sleep.

You wake up again a little while later, hearing a creaking noise towards the front of your room, near the door. You perk up your ears again and listen. This time, you think, it sounds like someone walking down the hallway. Probably one of your parents. They must be going to the bathroom, or to the kitchen for a glass of water. You sigh, draw the sheets up, and fall back asleep.

The next time you're woken up it's because of a high pitched beep. You're not sure what that is at first. Your heart starts pumping faster. A few minutes go by. You hear it again and then realize it has to just be the smoke detector down the hall. Someone needs to change the batteries, probably tomorrow, because this could get really annoying really fast. You manage to fall back asleep before you hear any more beeps.

You wake up again. There was a clattering noise to your left, like something just fell. Without opening your eyes you imagine your room and where everything is. You know there's a clock that just doesn't want to stay on your wall. The nail holding it there was at a bad angle and so occasionally would just fall out, taking the clock with it. You figure it just happened again. You'll need to put it back up in the morning. Which means you'll need to get the step ladder. You groan and go back to sleep.

You wake up again to a soft hissing sound right above you. It sounds exactly like the pipes after someone in the house flushed the toilet. That must be it. Happens all the time. It doesn't usually wake you up, but you figure that you must not be sleeping as deeply since you've been woken up a few times tonight. You really don't want to be too tired in the morning, so you roll onto your stomach and bury your head in the pillow, trying to get back to sleep.

( "Pipes" by Beige Alert is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0. ) Before you can, you hear something else, a sort of mechanical humming. You know this one. It has to be the air conditioning. You wonder, though, why it would only be going on now. Hasn't it been on all night? Maybe it's on that mode where it turns off when it gets too cold and turns back on when it's warm again. You don't remember it being on that setting, but what else could it be? The humming stops. Must have gotten cool. A few minutes later it starts again. Must have gotten warm. You finally fall back asleep. You hope nothing wakes you up again. You really need your rest.

You're woken up again. You moan. This is a long night. This time, you hear a rapid rhythmic rattling near your window. You're a little confused at first, but then figure it must be raining. The rattling is punctuated by the occasional tap, just like the branch against your window. That's probably what's happening, you reason. Just some a storm. How long has it been raining? You don't really care, you realize. Still, from the sounds, it's a pretty intense one. You crack open your eye and look to your window to see.

It's not raining. But you still hear the sound.

You look around your room, but it's too dark to see anything but shadow. Slowly, your eyes still sweeping back and forth, you reach over and click on your lamp. You find out what's been making the noise. It's perched on your ceiling. It's the size of a dog. Its covered in bristly brown hair. Its whole body shakes and wobbles as if it's not entirely solid underneath. The thing has too many legs to count, all of them wriggling and writhing as if they had minds of their own. But its face is human, and it stares at you with a set of steely blue eyes. It opens its mouth, full of sharp, needle-like teeth, and from it comes the sound of rain against the window. Then, its cheeks split open and form two more mouths on both sides of its face, and one makes a sound like the air conditioner and the other hisses like the water pipes.

( "Chair Shadow 'Spider'" by jaisril is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0. ) You scream. With one of its three mouths it screams back in exactly your voice then shuffles out of your room. Drawing your covers over your head, you can still hear it outside, roaming through the house--the microwave beeps but you know it's not the microwave. The faucet turns on, but you know it's not the faucet. The computer makes the startup noise but you know it's not the computer. You hear, then, a loud bang and some furniture clattering. You're not sure whether the thing actually banged into a chair or if it just made a noise sounding like it did. You don't want to find out. You shut your bedroom door and push some heavy objects in front of it. Somehow, despite everything that happened, you manage to fall back asleep.

You wake up and it's morning. You grab a baseball bat from your closet and slowly, carefully, creep out of your room. It's a bright and sunny day. And there's no sign of the creature at all. You spend an hour searching for it--in closets, under couches, on the ceiling--but find nothing. Is it still here? Did it leave? Will it come back if it did? You don't know. You find this uncertainty to be even worse than seeing what you saw for sure last night. Because you know that, eventually, the sun will set and you'll get tired and have to go to bed. And when you do, you'll never trust any noise again.

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC and The Familiars (But the Familiars Aren’t Actually Familiars)

So I 100% subscribe to the idea that the brothers can turn into their signature animal, but what if they tried to be slick about it?

Lucifer

Alright, all he had to do was visit MC in the human world, no big deal. Just a visit to his favourite human’s home… he’s the Avatar of Pride, Lucifer’s totally got this and isn’t nervous at all.

He poofs himself into their living room and… wait wasn’t knocking on the front door more polite? Agh, that doesn’t matter. Everything was still totally fine, he could hear MC shuffling around in the other room, he just needed to get outside and knock on the front door.

No problem- OH FUCK MC JUST WALKED IN DO SOMETHING-

*poof*

“…Lucifer?” MC was clearly not fooled by Lucifer’s new bird-y form… father dammit.

Okay, he couldn’t be suave and kabedon the human in this form… quick seduce them in another way!

Maybe fanning out his feathers inside wasn’t a good idea, he knocked a couple of things off the coffee table but at least he was fabulous.

MC just raises their eyebrows and rolls their eyes. “Okay, you’re very pretty Lucifer. Happy?”

Lucifer gets some gentle head rubs, ah, this was nice…

He poofs back into his human form and dips MC. Smooth as butter. “Well, it seems you’ve found me out, MC. I’ll just have to take you out on a date as a reward.”

MC giggles and Lucifer just revels in how amazing and clever he is- until MC looks over at the floor.

“You knocked my drink off the coffee table.” “Oh… would you like to go on a date after I clean that for you..?”

Mammon

UGGGGGGGGGGGH MAMMON’S HUMAN WASN’T PAYING ATTENTION TO HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM!

MC wasn’t adhering to the very clear “shower Mammon with love and affection” event on their calendar. The event was every day but like- who cares! Mammon had to find out where his human was right that moment and figure out why they weren’t giving him cuddles!

Mammon turned into his crow form and flew right out of the house. Where was that stupid human he loved so dearly? Oh! There they are! Feeding his crows! Awwwwwwwwwww so cute!

Crow-Mammon fluttered down and perched himself next to MC, who was immediately delighted.

“Oh hello there little friend!” MC gently picked Mammon up. “I love your feathers! Aren’t you adorable?”

If crows could blush, Mammon would be bright red. It was all great until his crows started imitating his voice in an attempt to blow his cover!

“Oh that’s right! Mammon would totally adore you!” Wait what?

MC proceeded to rush around the HOL asking all the brothers if they had seen Mammon. Crap… now crow-mammon needed a way to transform back into sexy regular Mammon without alerting his human!

…maybe that could wait a bit… being carried around by MC wasn’t so bad…

Leviathan

Let’s get one thing straight, okay? Levi is a sea snek! A cute little danger noodle! He doesn’t exactly think he’s cute but we know the truth.

He was just swimming around his and Henry 2.0’s gigantic aquarium when MC just barged in without knocking! What kinda normie BULLSHIT-

“Levi? Leviiiiiiiii?” Aw, the human missed him… Levi debated changing back but then decided against it… MC would probably despise him if they found out he wasn’t only a yucky otaku… he was a gross slimy snake too!

MC continued to look around the room while Levi hid in some of his aquarium props. Hiding in his underwater replica of the Lord of Shadows’ castle wasn’t exactly comfortable but it allowed Levi to at least see what MC was doing.

MC suddenly pressed their face against the glass of the aquarium and waved Henry 2.0 over.

“Hey little buddy, do you know where Levi is?”

GAH! 100 DAMAGE! CRITICAL HIT! LEVI HAS FAINTED! TOO MOE! His cute little goldfish and his cute little MC! AAAAAAAAA- oh shit he just transformed back into his normal form-

“Oh! There you are Levi!” MC waved from the other side of the glass. “Come out! Let’s watch anime!”

Satan

He’s not turning into a unicorn. Sorry not sorry.

As cool and terrifying as unicorns are in the Devildom, those stupid human legends ruined their reputations as feared companions to demons.

Whatever, Satan had invited MC over to his room for some 100% family friendly snuggling. He opened up a book and-

Wait why’d he have hooves now..? OH SON OF A BITCH!

The stupid book turned him into his familiar form! He couldn’t change back! Ugh… he needed to calm down, his mane was made of fire and he was in a very flammable environment… the last thing Satan wanted was to burn his books and MC. Wait MC-

“Satan? Is that you?” “…”

Well, at least Satan got some nose scritches… even though unicorns were absolutely terrifying, MC didn’t seem to mind. Though, they burned their fingertips a bit…

Okay… maybe getting pets in his demon form wasn’t all bad…

Asmodeus

Oh MC’s skin was a disaster! Asmo had to do something! All those late night anime binges with Levi were awful, just awful!

MC could be having all night Asmo time but noooooo apparently Princess Tutu was way more fun…

Ah well, time to entice MC into taking care of their skin~

Asmo turned into his adorable little scorpion form and scuttled off to MC’s room. He hopped up on their sink and nudged some lotion towards a very confused MC.

“…what?” “*scuttle scuttle*” “Oh, hi Asmo.”

MC graciously allowed Asmo to guide their bleary eyed self through their morning routine. Being small really helped, it allowed Asmo to get into the very back of the bathroom cabinet, where he found- GASP! MC! IS THAT THE HANDCREAM ASMO HAD GIFTED THEM?!

“*angy scuttles*” “What? I didn’t like the smell.”

The highlight of the morning was when MC picked Asmo up and gave him a hug. :3

Beelzebub

Food… *SNIIIIIIIIIIIIIFF* must consume. It’s coming from behind a locked door- HE NEEDS TO EAT.

Beel transformed and slipped through the crack underneath the door. Hell yeah! Food!

MC was eating takeout, and didn’t invite him… :( oh well, he could eat with them as a fly :)

He leisurely floated down to the food and started nomming.

“Shoo!” MC swatted Beel away. Oh no D: MC whyyyy?

Beel kept flying back, and getting shooed away, it was quite the viscous cycle, well, it was until MC caught Beel under a cup.

Quick! Transform back!

“…Beel. What?” “I’m hungry :(.”

MC just handed him some of their food and went back to eating. Same shit as always…

Belphegor

Moooooooooooooooooooooooo-

Okay, Belphie knew it was comfortable to sleep as a cow when he didn’t have a blanket, he was floofy as a cow! Being floofy is comfortable!

“MCCCCCCCCCCCC. Come snuggle!”

Gasp! MC give cuddles! MC give cuddles and pets to sleepy cow brat!

Belphie likes getting pet behind the ears, THATS the spot… yeah… *content cow sigh*

Side note, cows have very nice eyelashes, Belphie must have nice eyelashes too.

Just snoozing and cuddling… this is how life should be…

The whole gang eventually just ends up napping near or on Belphie, it’s very relaxing. Crow-Mammon on his head, Fly-Beel between his eyes, Snek Levi all curled up on his back, Scorpion Asmo behind his ears, and Lucifer and Satan leaned up next to MC.

They should do this more often…

[grelleswife]

if you could make a Better Sebastian maybe you could make a Better Claude too I think 😌

Aw shucks! 😅🙈 Let’s see…

Claude 2.0:

-Has a ponytail similar to his concept art (it’s where the goodness is stored) to make his design a bit more distinct from Sebastian’s.

-Knits Alois a closet’s worth of soft, fluffy sweaters, scarves, mittens, and quilts; those arachnid web-weaving instincts are strong. Although his fashion sense is on par with a 90-year old grandma’s, it’s the thought that counts!

-Actually gives a damn about his smol human contractee. He’s a clueless dork when it comes to this whole “pretending to be a human butler” gig, but he’s doing his best! Very awkwardly hugs Alois and tries to console him when the boy wakes up sobbing from a nightmare or starts having PTSD flashbacks. Due to his calm, stoic demeanor, fanon!Claude often has a knack for helping Alois settle down. Is NOT creepy towards the boy because we don’t tolerate Season 2’s objectification of children in these here parts.

-Has pet spiders (maybe tarantulas?) who act as his evil little Disney animal helpers. Maybe he gives a couple to Alois and teaches his master how to care for them properly. If you look closely, you can often spot one of Claude’s tiny buddies perched on his shoulder or waving a few of its legs outside his jacket pocket. He becomes greatly distraught if he sees some callous mortal sweep away cobwebs or squish a spider that gets indoors, losing his composure and…reprimanding the offending party. Often quite violently. 🤭 No matter how busy he might be, fanon!Claude always takes time to scoop up lost spiders and return them to their natural habitat if he finds them in Trancy manor while cleaning.

-Is an accomplished dancer. Created his funky tap routine because it makes Alois laugh, and he loves seeing a genuine smile on his boi’s face.

-Treats Hannah with respect. Fanon!Claude is a disastrous hell spider, not a cad. He looks up to Miss Annafellows as an older, wiser devil, and teams up with her to coparent Alois. There’s no romantic or sexual interest on either side; it’s strictly an alliance based on mlm/wlw solidarity. 🧡💜

-Is still Sebastian’s ex, but they parted on relatively amicable terms and remain frenemies to this day, although the two butlers keep up their rivalry for the sake of appearances…plus a dash of competitiveness. 😉

-Reads stories from a big book of fairytales to Alois each night before his highness goes to bed.

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Purple Martin Landlords Wanted!

Originally posted at my blog at https://rebeccalexa.com/purple-martin-landlords-wanted/

I recently got to see my very first purple martin (Progne subis) while leading a guided hike for the Friends of Willapa National Wildlife Refuge. As we walked along the Parker Slough trail in the evening light, a lone male purple martin perched on top of a post of nest boxes. He was content to stay there even as we passed, giving us an excellent opportunity to observe him.

These birds get their name from their gorgeous, iridescent plumage. Adult males are completely dark with a mix of blue, black, and deep purple hues, while adult females and immature birds have substantial amounts of white, gray, and brown underneath, and primarily have blue/purple on their heads and backs. They’re the largest swallows in North America and have the typical forked tail of the family.

Purple martins breed in North America, but many of them make an incredible migration to South America for the winter, flying thousands of miles in fall and returning here in spring. Unfortunately, changes here have been giving the purple martin the summertime blues.

Humans have been providing the purple martin living space for centuries. Originally cavity-nesters who raised their young in holes in dead trees and similar spaces, they took to hollowed-out gourds and other artificial nest boxes that were provided by indigenous Americans, and later immigrants. Until recently, they would make use of both natural and artificial nesting sites as they were available.

That’s changed in the past couple of centuries as we’ve proceeded to destroy countless acres of forests, leading to the loss of dead trees and other natural nesting sites. As a result, while purple martins in the west are still using a mix of natural and artificial sites, those east of the Rockies are almost entirely dependent on humans for nesting sites.

The challenge is that those gourds and other nest boxes need to be built and and then maintained long-term, often by volunteers. Not only does it take space, money and effort to build and place them, but they need to be monitored for intrusion by invasive species like house sparrows (Passer domesticus) and European starlings (Sturnus vulgaris). And the nest boxes also need repair or replacement as they fall prey to the elements over time.

Adding to the challenge is the fact that many of the people who are tending to purple martin nest boxes are older, and as they pass away no one is stepping up to take their place. Given that rising housing prices far out of proportion with average wages are contributing to fewer younger people owning homes with yards, even those who may want to be up and coming purple martin landlords may not have a property on which to establish nest boxes. The potential loss of one species of synanthropic bird–one that is closely related to humans–seems a sad side effect of this economic reality.

Being a good steward to your local birds is an incredibly rewarding activity. For those who are willing and able to be the caretaker for purple martin nest boxes, there are plenty of resources available. Even if you don’t have property, you might see about volunteering to help take care of an existing set of nest boxes. Many wildlife refuges, parks, and other public lands have them in place, and some private citizens may appreciate an extra hand in caretaking the boxes. In fact, there’s a Facebook group where you can chat with other purple martin landlords and wannabes. That may be a good starting place to ask about how to help with established purple martin nest sites.

If you will be maintaining nest boxes on your property, your first step is to make sure purple martins actually breed in your area (an email to your local branch of the Audubon Society may be helpful here.) Even if you’re west of the Rockies where these birds may still use natural nesting sites, it can’t hurt to give them a few more options.

Photo by By Dendroica cerulea, CCA-2.0

Then determine if your property has a good spot for a nesting site. The Purple Martin Conservation Association–itself an incredible wealth of information on attracting and tending to these birds–has a nice writeup of the best locations here. Then you’ll need to invest in some nest boxes, whether the traditional gourds (real or plastic) or a multi-compartment house. Many are placed on a tall, telescoping pole or a pole with a winch system. Make sure that whatever your houses are built on that they have adequate baffling and blocks to keep predators like raccoons from climbing up the pole.

Keeping competitors out of the nest boxes is tough. Often the best thing to do is to wait a little later in the year to put the nest boxes out or open them up, as many of the other birds will nest earlier than the purple martins. If non-native species like starlings or house sparrows begin to try to nest in the boxes, you can remove them with impunity, as they are considered invasive; starlings in particular may attack and even kill purple martins.  (In fact, the purple martin population crashed hard in the middle of the 20th century due to the explosion of starlings in North America, and by the 1980s there were almost no martins left.) Some purple martin nests have special openings that help keep starlings in particular from getting in.

Prospective purple martin landlords should not ignore the Migratory Bird Treaty Act that protects native birds, their nests and eggs; disturbing (or killing) them is a federal crime, and is additionally ecologically unsound as it can threaten local populations of native species. Do your best to prevent native species like bluebirds and wrens from getting into the nest boxes in the first place by blocking the entrances, and research when the purple martins typically return to your area so you don’t remove the barriers too early.

Beyond that? It’s a waiting game. It may take a few years for the purple martins to discover your nesting boxes; purple martin enthusiasts often refer to people who have yet to have their first nesting pair as “wannabe landlords.” But this just means you’re not the only one waiting, and it will just make that first successful season that much sweeter!

Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!

[dotthings]

So here’s my thoughts on an alternate ending plan for S15. While the remade heaven was something that fit, very little else did, and if they were aiming for self-actualizations being fulfilled the ending didn’t convey that. It feels incomplete to me (I have posted enough analyzing why and that’s all I’ll say here). This is a more earth-bound take. An ending where all of TFW 2.0 defeat Chuck and are together and figuring out life free of Chuck’s maze. This also incorporates some of my previous meta spec that didn’t get addressed at all in the finale but things are left so ambiguous, I have no reason to think my spec can’t be canon now. Also I think if canon can screw things up this royally, then I’m allowed to state that my version is not only kinder, but makes more sense. I’m sure there is some loose end I’ve missed, and I’d want to have all the Wayward Sisters appear too. Gosh, endings are hard!

Envisioning this as one extra long episode. To be extra subversive I’m still using the start of ep 19, but mostly this diverges after the end of ep 18.

-the phone call from Cas in ep 19 isn’t a troll from Lucifer (Lucifer can stay trapped in The Empty for all eternity). It’s actually Cas.

Here’s what happened: The Empty took him, fulfilling Cas Jungian arc about confronting his shadow and instead of fighting it, accepting it as part of himself. Inside Cas, a soul has been growing for many seasons now. Spontaneous soul combustion. It started small and kept growing. The act of confessing his love to Dean was the final spark to complete the growth. As The Empty drags Cas away, Cas’s grace merges with his soul and the grace is the power jolt it needs to make his soul blaze to full life. His grace is effectively gone, burned out in the act of bring his soul into being. The Empty cannot hold him, his soul is pure, and he’s not filled with self-loathing. The Empty spits Cas out in Lawrence, KS because that’s where Cas’s soul home beaconed to. Effectively human, this process was fairly traumatizing to his body, so he’s weakened. He staggers across town to outside the bunker, calls Dean, and collapses. Dean (as we saw in ep 19) races up the stairs and reaches Cas first, but Sam isn’t far behind, and both boys help Cas down into the bunker. Dean, being Dean, can’t stop touching Cas. There’s some awkwardness after Cas’s confession but they aren’t going to talk about it yet. Dean’s just relieved to have Cas back

-Jack’s also overjoyed Cas is back. Cas explains to the fam what happened and that he has a soul now. This will change the dynamics of TFW interact, changes Cas’s demeanor slightly, and how Dean and Cas interact, but Cas’s personality is basically the same

-Michael sides with TFW. His decision to stand up to his father is sincere. There are Cas and Michael scenes where they start reaching some kind of understanding of each other’s pov

-There is a further scene showing Sam mourning the snapped Eileen, as he finds something that belongs to her in his room

-They hatch a plan to confront Chuck. Cas assumes he’ll be joining them but Dean balks because Cas is freshly human and not battle-ready. “You and Sam are human, and you’re going into battle” Cas argues. Dean’s not really being logical about this, so Dean and Cas bicker while Sam, Jack and Michael have to go guys? Guys? Evil god to stop? World to save? “Get a room,” Sam snaps.

-Dean wins the argument, mostly because Cas has to give in just so they don’t stay derailed. They proceed with Cas holding down the fort at the bunker in case they need a further spell or information from the MoL archives

-They confront Chuck at the beach. Following some parts of ep 19, Chuck starts pettily beating up Sam and Dean, who refuse to give up. Sam and Dean shoulder to shoulder, laughing at their enemy through their bloodied faces. (That was a good moment, I’ll keep that) Michael intervenes, Chuck tries to destroy him but Jack steps in. Chuck is fending both of them off for the moment. Kind of looks like Chuck might overpower all of them. He raises his fingers to snap them all away

and a familiar voice yells HEY ASSBUT. Cas hurls a magical molotov cocktail at Chuck. Because Cas he found a spell, and while the thing certainly won’t kill God, it certainly makes for a great distraction. Chuck’s body burns for a moment, and then the flames go out with Chuck unharmed. The distraction allows Michael to get the upper hand enough for Jack to grab Chuck and absorb his powers and render Chuck powerless. They all leave Chuck on the beach.

-Michael looks deeply amused by the cocktail. “At least you didn’t hurl it at me this time”

-unsnapped Adam switches in.

-Sam and Dean look beat to hell. Cas says something sad about how at one point he could have healed them with a touch but he can’t now and Sam and Dean reassure him it’s fine. Cas asks Jack to heal them and Jack says he’s going non-intervention God and yeets. Sam, Dean, and Cas seem taken aback by this move and their son vanishing into thin air

-Michael switches back in and offers to heal them but Sam and Dean refuse again. Cas rolls his eyes. Typical Winchesters.

-Sam calls Eileen. “Eileen, are you okay?” All is well. Dean checks on Jody and the girls. They’re fine. Everyone unsnapped.

-Adam switches in again to say goodbye but maybe see you soon, shakes hands with Sam and Dean. A promise of maybe someday they could figure out how to be family. “Where you headed to now?” Dean asks. “Around, I guess,” says Adam, and then Michael switches back in and says “the french fries on earth are worth hanging around for a bit” and Michael yeets out.

-They won. They’re free. Chuck’s defeated, Jack is going to be a new, uncorrupted God. But wait, there’s still half an hour left, what’s left to resolve? What else could there be?

-We get a montage. Sam and Dean continue to hunt, the bruises and cuts on their faces from the battle with Chuck fading. A scene of Dean giving Cas shooting pointers and Cas is a pretty decent shot but maybe he should hold the shotgun a bit higher. Dean sure does keep touching Cas a lot when it’s not necessary. They still haven’t talked. Sam doing laundry. Dean studying a job application at the desk in his room. The bruises and cuts from their fight with Chuck are almost gone. Eileen hanging out in the bunker, she and Sam doing research at the library table, laughing as Sam makes a joke.

-Sam, Dean, and Cas get wind of ghoul activity and set out on a hunt together. Dean and Cas are waiting together, leaning against the Impala, while Sam is inside a gas station getting them all snacks.

Dean: Are you okay with this? Human...forever?

Cas: I’m adjusting. Rather enjoy being able to taste the pb&j again.

*Awkward silence*

Dean: Cas—what you said—I—

Cas: It’s all right Dean. You don’t have to say anything. I told you, it’s not about the having, it’s—

Cas doesn’t get to finish the sentence because suddenly Dean’s holding his face in his hands and then leans in and kisses him.

Dean pulls back, staring right at Cas’s stunned pikachu face.

Dean: What makes you think you didn’t already have me?

They hold each other. Sometimes it’s not in the saying it’s in the actions.

Sam, who just emerged from the gas’n sip station, stands there holding packets of junk food and yells “FINALLY!” and Dean and Cas jump apart. Dean is beet-red but both Dean and Cas look happier, more peaceful than we’ve seen them look in a very long while.

-Standard hunt. They kill some ghouls, badass Team Free Will action scene. Cas gets taken off guard, but Sam has his back.

-Back at the bunker. Sam answers a text from Eileen—they’re meeting up next week.

-Sam, Dean, Cas are in the bunker having dinner when Jack randomly appears. Raises his hand. “Hello!” They’re all startled, but tell Jack they miss him. “You don’t write, you don’t call,” Dean complains. “Well,” Jack says. “I figured just because I’m non-interventionist doesn’t mean I can’t stop by for dinner once in a while.” “Darn right,” says Dean.

-TFW 2.0 have dinner together. Jack mentions he remade heaven, no more barriers. Released trapped souls like Kevin’s to heaven. New set of rules. Mentions he met with Rowena. They’re working out a better system. Reform.

“I would have gotten rid of the monsters,” Jack explains, “but can’t do it without upsetting the natural order of things—what’s done is done. The alternative is to reset everything. I won’t do that. Too much would be undone, too much good lost.” The implication is also: while he won’t intervene and be the God perching on Team Free Will’s shoulder, he also can’t bring himself to do anything that will undo them. “Sometimes it’s all worth putting up with a few monsters,” Sam says.

Jack vanishes again. “Guess we’ll get used to that eventually” says Dean.

-very last shot. It’s dusk, outside the bunker. Sam and Dean leaning on the Impala, watching fireflies, drinking beers. Not talking, just being.

Dean: We did it.

Sam: We did it.

Dean: Well, here’s to freedom.

They toast their beer bottles. Both look more peaceful than we have seem them look in a very long time.

Overhead shot of Sam and Dean, the Impala, the bunker.

*Kansas version of Carry On, Wayward Son plays*

[uhzuku]

Imagine Being An Ancient Demonic Entity And Watching Ruby, Your Mate, Die

Summary: They’d done it, they’d actually done it - but even this success came with a price.

Pairing: Ruby 2.0/Reader, Ruby 2.0/Demon!Reader

Warnings: f/f, character death, established relationship, Demon!Reader

Notes: This is a bit of a prequel to the Sam/Demon!Reader imagine set!

It all had happened so quickly - and you’d not seen it coming, even from your place on the ceiling of the chapel.

She’d actually been successful, and despite your silent worries and her own vocalized self doubt, you’d known she would be. Your girl was strong; she’d not birthed armies alongside you for nothing.

A genderless spectre with claws sharp as daggers and fangs that could slide through stone, you were an old being, older than almost any of the inhabitants of hell and twice as strong. The Princes had nothing on you, nor would they ever -

“I can’t believe it,” you hear her whisper, and you chuckle as the quivering whelp whimpers put his confusion and your girl tells her tale. You allow your former train of thought to dissipate without a care.

“-And it is written,” your love purrs, retelling the words you’d spouted to Lilith herself during an argument between the pair of you, “-that the first demon shall be the last seal - And you bust her open!” You watch the physically attractive lump of flesh as pure, unadulterated fear, panic, and realization set in amid your girl’s breathless laughter. “Now guess who's coming to dinner?”

You absentmindedly focus on the other lump, who was pounding at the door with what sounded like one of the large candelabras that you’d liked from outside.

“You don't even know how hard this was!” Your darling cries, sounding absolutely ecstatic, “All the demons out for my head - No one knew! I was the best of those sons of bitches! The most loyal! Not even Alastair knew! Only Lilith and Y/N!” She crows, laughing again at the sight of Sam Winchester’s horror. “Yeah, I'm sure you're a little angry right now, but, I mean, come on, Sam! Even you have to admit I'm - I'm awesome!”

“You bitch.” He whispers instead, “You lying bitch!”

You watch lazily as he thrusts his hands at her, trying to use his powers, but he drops, clutching his head instead. The young one was drained, he couldn’t hurt Ruby if he wanted to.

“Don't hurt yourself, Sammy. It's useless. You shot your payload on the boss.”

“The blood...” Sam gasps. “You poisoned me.”

Ruby kneels in front of him and you watch with unconcealed interest from her perch in the shadowy rafters; she did like him...

“No. It wasn't the blood. It was you... and your choices. I just gave you the options, and you chose the right path every time. You didn't need the feather to fly, you had it in you the whole time, Dumbo! I know it's hard to see it now... but this is a miracle. So long coming. Everything Azazel did, Y/N did, and Lilith did, just to get you here - And you were the only one who could do it.”

“Why? W-why me?”

“Because... because it had to be you, Sammy. It always had to be you. You saved us. You set him free. And he's gonna be grateful. He's gonna repay you in ways that you can't even imagine, both him and Y/N!”

“Who is Y/N?” Sam whispers, and you’re ready to slither down from your hideaway just so he can find out, but the other whelp finally breaks into the room and draws the knife you’d given your girl, who stands to confront him.

‘Smoke away!’ You telepathically hiss, but she’s too cocky, swallowed up by her pride and celebration.

“You're too late!”

“I don’t care,” the other growls, storming forward.

‘RUBY, LEAVE!’ You snarl mentally, reading the room, but she doesn’t listen - or she does but is unable to.

Your visibly nonexistent eyes, both sets of three, widen in horror as your mate is grabbed by the two humans upon being found out and a knife is driven up through her ribs before piercing her heart. An orange glow flickers through her body, and orange glow you’d seen after protecting her time and time again.

An unholy screech echoed up from your middle, shooting through your throat and reverberating through the room as the sound left your lips. Your long, claw like fingers bury themselves in the rotting wooden rafters, making bits and pieces rain down as you eye the ever growing bloodstain on your girl’s empty shell. The two humans clap their hands over their ears, eardrums aching and about to burst. They’re lucky that you yourself don’t currently have a solid form or they’d be gone.

“What the hell is that?!” Sam cries, and his brother lets out a sound of distress while trying to say that he didn’t know before you instead hear the one who’d driven the knife into Ruby’s body shout that they needed to leave - and they did - but it was too late; your creator was coming, and you’d be by his side throughout it all. Without your former mate, you had no reason to crawl back into your hidden home island - you needed a new mate, and you would have one, whether they were willing in the beginning or not.

The Winchesters would learn not to mess with aeon old demonic forces.

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[notebooks-and-laptops]

Jaskier – like any human – had plenty of problems.

There was his music career that was going nowhere, the numerous temp jobs that came with a different boss to hate every other week, the shitty apartments, his terrifying possibly-out-to-poison-him roommate, the price of cat food, the fact that Geralt seemed to be avoiding the apartment, the horrid grey colour of the kitchen walls. The list went on and on.

But, at three AM on a Tuesday, what was currently his biggest problem was the fact that he couldn’t reach the damn cereal.

How Yennefer had even managed to get it up to this shelf was beyond him. She was plenty of things – a good deal of them scary enough to warrant giving her a wide berth - but one thing she wasn’t? She wasn’t tall.

“Shit,” he cursed, almost falling from where he’d precariously perched himself on the kitchen counter in order to reach the brightly coloured flavoured goodness on top of the cabinet. His fingers brushed against the corner, tugging them towards him. Victory!

Crash.

Ah. Maybe he spoke too soon.

Under the table, Little Yen 2.0 hissed in shock, scampering away in a flash of black fur.

He stared down at the selection of pink, blue and yellow cereal loops shattered on the floor. And – because he was very clearly under a curse – when he raised his eyes from the mess there was Yennefer, in the doorway.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She was quite the picture; stood there with her hair a mess and her hand on her hip, Little Yen 2.0 returning to rub up against her ankles.

Jaskier hesitated, “Uh…getting cereal?” That was pretty obvious, wasn’t it?

“It’s three in the morning.”

“Oh. Yeah. I’m shit at sleeping.”

Read the rest here! - Chapter 3 of my Poly Roommate AU!

[multiverseforger]

Chris Powell was the teenage son of Mike Powell, a cop, and Grace Powell, a District Attorney. Following his younger twin brothers, Jon and Jason, to the abandoned amusement park across from his home, Chris discovered his father taking a bribe from mob boss Phillipe Bazin.[5][6]

While trying to escape with his brothers from Bazin's henchmen, Chris discovered an amulet that transposed him into the Darkhawk armor. When his father disappeared after Chris saw him, he swore to use the Darkhawk armor as an "edge against crime". Darkhawk's powers included a force blast which emanated from the amulet on his chest, a force shield from the same amulet, a claw cable which could serve as both a Wolverine-like claw, and a grapple cable, glider wings and later flight capability, enhanced vision and strength, and an image underneath the Darkhawk helmet which served to frighten and distract his enemies.[citation needed]

He often teamed up with Spider-Man. As a sometime member of the New Warriors, he befriended Speedball, Nova, and later, Turbo.[citation needed] During his tenure as a crime fighter, he was often trying to rescue his father, mother, or other family members.[citation needed]

He developed quite a roster of enemies: he would fight villains such as Hobgoblin and Tombstone, who were seeking to take his amulet, with the latter succeeding. He was extremely weakened and even dying from having the amulet removed, but still able to use all of his powers except for turning back into human form to heal. Once he retrieved the amulet he was able to put it back in his chest and fully heal. Darkhawk had 2 separate encounters with Venom, who felt that Chris was good natured and held back whereas Darkhawk was greatly opposed to Venom's ideals and way of handling crime, and swore to bring him to justice, despite Venom offering to be his ally. Lodestone: a magnetically-powered villain developed by Bazin, was often pitted against Darkhawk. He also fought against some who would later ally with him, such as Portal, a teleporting mutant who killed another Darkhawk and stole parts of his armor, Savage Steel, which had been created by the secret police cabal that Chris' dad had been a member of, and Damek, a mercenary sent from the future to kill Darkhawk.[citation needed]

Chris learned that his armor was actually an autonomously existing android armor, one of five commissioned by an alien mob lord named Dargin Bokk, being held in a sentient spaceship, Ocsh, in Null Space. When Chris grasped the amulet, it actually caused his body to switch places with that of the Darkhawk body, although his mind remained in control of the 'replacement' body.[citation needed]

After helping them several times, Darkhawk was brought aboard the Avengers West Coast as a reserve member, but saw little action with them after becoming a member, because they were dissolved shortly thereafter. Nonetheless, he did at least start a lasting friendship with Spider-Woman.[citation needed]

Darkhawk 2.0

Later, Chris and Darkhawk actually split into two separate entities, with the armor being updated into the "2.0" form, as it was informally known. This advanced form of armor gave Darkhawk new powers, such as the ability to form a force shield encasing his body, an actual "Hawk" construct (a gigantic force-field shaped like a hawk), and the ability to summon weapons from Osch. Darkhawk 2.0 and Chris re-merged, with the prospect of no longer needing to use the amulet in order to switch bodies.[citation needed]

Loners

Chris joined a self-help group of ex-teenage-super-heroes, the Loners, who admitted to being addicted to their powers. Members included: Turbo, Green Goblin IV (Phil Urich), Ricochet, Lightspeed and later Spider-Woman III (Mattie Franklin). The group was hired by a mysterious benefactor, later revealed to be Rick Jones, to track down the Runaways in Los Angeles.

Powell displayed trouble controlling his anger in his Darkhawk persona, leading to a short skirmish with Turbo. Dismayed with himself, Powell admitted to his teammates that he suffered a nervous breakdown.[7] Powell decided to never turn into Darkhawk again, but this decision did not last long, as shortly thereafter the group battled the notorious Avengers villain, Ultron. Darkhawk delivered the final blow, using a darkforce blast at point blank range to blow Ultron to pieces.[8]

The Loners continued their meetings and Chris was drawn back into heroics by Spider-Woman and made an enemy of MGH manufacturers who had abused Mattie Franklin and the woman running them as well as Nekra, a woman who was getting rich by selling her bodily fluids to them. Chris then got his Darkhawk amulet stolen from him temporarily by an unbalanced Phil Urich but was able to regain it with help from the group.[9]

Secret Invasion

Having registered with the government, Darkhawk was assigned to the position of security chief at Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S.. During the Skrull invasion, he worked alongside his old teammate Nova against the Deviant Skrulls.[10]

Fraternity of Raptors

The being known as Talon came to Earth, and offered to teach Chris how to control his amulet. They went to the Negative Zone to fight Annihilus. There, Chris bonded fully with his amulet. This allowed him to learn that the Fraternity of Raptors that Talon represented was evil and that the Fraternity had created the amulets. Evilhawk had been a hallucination caused by his mind, which had been unable to process all the information the Amulet gave him. The Raptor, known as Razor, took over Chris' body and assassinated Lilandra.[citation needed]

Later he fought Gyre another member of the Fraternity of Raptors that had been recruited as a pawn of the Sphinx. Darkhawk, Nova, Black Bolt, Mr. Fantastic and Namorita defeated the Sphinx and his pawns. Darkhawk was able to separate Gyre from his Kree host by using the same technique Talon used to separate Chris from Darkhawk and bring back Razor.[citation needed]

Avengers Arena

Arcade kidnapped Chris and fifteen teenage heroes and brought them to Murderworld, a secluded island where no one could find them, and forced them to fight each other to the death, and only the last man standing within thirty days would be allowed to leave.[11] One night, he was attacked and had his amulet removed, leaving his fate unknown.[12] His amulet would get passed around by others locked in Murderworld.[13]

Chris was later shown in a coma-like state in a strange tank along with the deceased heroes, where Arcade appeared to be healing him. Waking up, he located Arcade and knocked him out. He later reclaimed his amulet and was among the survivors of the battle.[14]

Marvel Legacy

Powell eventually resurfaced back in New York, set to marry a new fiancée by the name of Miranda Cruz. With whom he'd shared all of his exploits while piloting the sentient automaton known Darkhawk. Nowadays his Amulet has become inert, not so much as even changing when he focuses his thoughts on becoming his alter ego again; but lately has been suffering from nightmares of the Tree of Shadows every time he slept. Following in his father's footsteps, he eventually became an officer of the law at the NYPD. Taking to the same beat Micheal Powell used to back when he was one of the police, he reminisced about how his father would listen to people and remember their names while trying to keep the peace on the streets.

Trying to be the every bit as big a man and a better cop than he was by holding the values he once thought Mike stood for before, Chris found out his father was a corrupt cop. All the while ruminating on whether the world needed him as Christopher Powell, police officer or as the cybernetic hero he once was. While on patrol, dispatch sent out notice of a disturbance at Wonderland Amusement Park, where he first found the Raptor Amulet.

While investigating the derelict establishment, Powell was approached by two shady cops right near the area where he first became Darkhawk. Officer Hal Fingeroth and Sergeant Harold Conrad came to Powell offering certain opportunities while on the force which Chris quickly denied, when the latter opted to be a bit more forceful in his persuasion; Conrad was quickly eviscerated by members of the Fraternity of Raptors who were after the young officer's depowered amulet. Canorus and Aceptar created the odd circumstances which led to Christopher retracing his origin as a superhero in order to kill him and take what they believed was theirs by right, but the former raptor didn't go without a fight; discovering that these new raptors were in actuality just armored Shi'ar thugs given how easily Aceptar was stunned by a shock baton.

Though Christopher was eventually subdued by Canorus and his gem taken from him. Canorus was able to activate it again with a damaged Razor taking his place, whom nearly beat Powell's other would be assassin to death until Chris got his attention. The badly broken android grabbed hold of Powell and ported him to a portion of the Datasong he called the "Perch," where memories of previous host pilots were stored within a Raptor's own motherboard.

Razor, now calling itself Darkhawk after the recombinant persona imprinted on itself due to their shared escapades as a hero. Chris learned from his other half that a whole new Fraternity has sprung up in the wake of Novas' decimation, eager to bring the universe to heel under their thrall and had been searching for a means of acquiring the Raptor androids from the Null Space void to cement their dominance. Horrified by this development the now empathetic Razor sought to defy this mandate by said cabal of zealot pretenders by escaping his pod and severing his link to the Tree of Shadows, which was the reason why Powell couldn't become Darkhawk anymore. Severing his brethren's connection to their amulets earned Raptor their ire, however. They nearly hunted it down and executed until he was summoned to Earth by Canorus. Seeing the opportunity to heal itself, and hoping to enlist aid in stopping the renegade Raptor sect, Darkhawk sought union with Chris Powell once again in order to recover and grow in power.

Seeing as the whole of the universe was at stake, including his own homeworld in the long run. Chris knew in spite of his misgivings about space travel and the new life he has on Earth, that since his android had grown a conscience since the War of Kings. That he could not just sit by and pretend what effects the galaxy has no consequences for everybody involved, himself included. Donning the name Darkhawk once more, he took to the skies after blasting the other raptor back to his enclave in space before taking off, wondering how Miranda will react to the change of pace.[15]

Infinity Countdown

After learning from Richard Rider that the Fraternity of Raptors were after the Infinity Stones, Chris wanted to find a way to stop them, but he was stuck on Earth. He was later attacked by the bounty hunter Death's Head who was hired by the Raptors to capture Chris and bring him back to them alive. After learning that Death's Head had a spaceship, Chris was able to convince Death's Head to take him to the Raptors. After saying goodbye to Miranda, Chris and Death's Head traveled to where Death's Head was to meet the Raptors, the planet Arcturus IV; however, the Raptors betrayed Death's Head and destroyed his ship. Chris survived the ship's destruction and confronted the Raptors, but he was quickly overwhelmed by their numbers.

Chris' Darkhawk Amulet was removed from his body by the Raptors' leader Gyre and used in a ceremony to transform Richard Rider's brother Robbie Rider into the being called Dark Darkhawk by fusing him with Ratha'kon, a being supposedly more powerful than the Phoenix Force. The Raptors then left a dying Chris where he was set off to destroy Earth. As Chris dragged himself across the ground, he encountered his other half Razor who revealed to him the origins of the Tree of Shadows and of the first Raptor. After some coaxing from Razor, Chris tapped into his hidden strength and emerged with a new Darkhawk body after fully fusing his mind with the armor. Chris then flew after the Raptors to stop them.[16]

Chris battled the Raptors with help from Death's Head and Nova Prime. Nova made it difficult to fight Dark Darkhawk as he preferred to reason with his brother Robbie than fight him. Dark Darkhawk then shockingly turned on Gyre and destroyed him while stating that he would bring order to the universe, not Gyre. The Raptors were eventually stopped when Death's Head rigged the power core of the Kree ship the Raptors stole to explode. Only Dark Starhawk survived the explosion, though stunned, allowing Chris to reclaim his Darkhawk Amulet. Dark Starhawk then disappeared in a flash of light after striking his Nega-Bands together. Grieving over the loss of Robbie, Nova angrily told Chris to stay on Earth or he would have him locked up. After Chris returned to Earth, he decided stay out of space for a while. Later that night, he was met by Sleepwalker while he dreamed, telling him that the influence of the Infinity Stones threatened the Mindscape and that the only way he could protect it was to become a Sleepwalker.[17]

Young Again

Darkhawk attended Thanos' funeral along with prominent cosmic figures where it was revealed that Thanos had transferred his mind into a new body. However, the Black Order came and stole Thanos' corpse, while opening a rip in space in order to trap them.[18] While trapped there, Darkhawk's atoms began to break apart, affecting his link to the suit. After being captured by the Universal Church of Truth from a possible future, Chris found out that his body was merged with the armor and that he had become younger than when he first found the amulet.[19] Under the control of the Church, Darkhawk and the other prisoners attacked the Guardians of the Galaxy, but Rocket Raccoon was able to free them from the Church's control and sent the church back to their timeline.[20]

After the Void was leading the forces of the Cancerverse into invading the Negative Zone, Darkhawk was among the heroes summoned by Mister Fantastic using his Dimensional Anchor in order to defeat the Scourge. Once the Silver Surfer managed to merge Bob Reynolds with Void back, Nova sacrificed himself in order to defeat the Scourge, ending the threat.[21]

Powers and Abilities

Power Grid [24]Intelligence 2Strength4 Speed*5  3Durability4 Energy Projection*6  3Fighting Skills 2* Armor Transformations

Abilities

Skilled Combatant: Chris is skilled in Kendo and an unidentified branch of Karate.[citation needed]

Strength level

25+ Tons.[15]

Paraphernalia

Equipment

Darkhawk Amulet:

Consciousness Transfer: Chris can transfer his consciousness into the Darkhawk's alien android while at the same time, switch the robotic body's place with that of his own body wherever he is at any time.[citation needed]

Darkhawk Android: The Darkhawk Armor is advanced Shi'ar technology meshed with magic, allowing the host numerous superhuman capabilities:

Superhuman Strength: The Armor allows Chris to lift in the excess of 25+ tons. Able to knock out Venom.[citation needed]

Superhuman Speed

Superhuman Durability: Darkhawk is superhumanly durable; he is capable of shrugging off physical impacts, energy blasts, and most artillery fire.

Superhuman Agility

Superhuman Reflexes

Armament Conjuration: The Android can summon weapons from the extra-dimensional expanse from whence they came, or manifest desired munitions from its own body at will.[citation needed]

Flight: The retractable glider wings under his arms allow him to glide on air currents. Darkhawk can also fly at speeds that let him fly from New York to California in only a matter of hours. After the Darkhawk armor attained a new form, Chris is able to fly interstellar distances.[22]

Self Repair: Even major injuries to his Darkhawk body can be repaired by switching back to his human form.[citation needed]

Superhuman Vision: Darkhawk has telescopic and infra-red vision. He can see through most camouflage.[citation needed]

Force Field: Chris can utilize a circular wafer-thin force field.[citation needed]

Concussion Blasts: He can fire blasts of destructive dark energy from the amulet on his chest.[citation needed]

Mode Shifting: Talons can morph their bodies into a host of augmentative forms. Becoming transparent, doubling body armor, projecting greater weaponry, etc.[citation needed]

Formerly *Avengers Identicard

Transportation

Formerly Avengers Quinjet

Trivia

Darkhawk's armor and appearance has been a continued source of debate amongst Marvel "True-Believers." After his series was canceled, his new appearances often reverted back to the original Darkhawk armor. As of his Loners appearances, he is in "DH 1.0" form, although he had appeared a few times as DH 2.0 prior to this.[citation needed]

It has been a misunderstanding amongst many readers and fans of Darkhawk that he was aware of his status as a hero within the Marvel 2099 universe, in which he is known as "The Powell," one of the "most powerful, and feared, heroes in the universe." This wasn't Earth-928 (or Marvel 2099), it was a similar cyberpunk dystopia world within Chronopolis. This was resolved by DeFalco himself within the letter columns in one of the final issues of the ongoing series.[citation needed]

Links and References

185 Appearances of Christopher Powell (Earth-616)

15 Minor Appearances of Christopher Powell (Earth-616)

Media Christopher Powell (Earth-616) was Mentioned in

123 Images featuring Christopher Powell (Earth-616)

13 Quotations by or about Christopher Powell (Earth-616)

Character Gallery: Christopher Powell (Earth-616) 

Christopher Powell (Earth-616) on Wikipedia.org 

Darkhawk Zone: The Ultimate Darkhawk Fansite

Darkhawk @ New Warriors Continuity Conundrum

New Warriors Message Board

Recommended Readings

Darkhawk #1-50 (March 1991, April 1995)

Darkhawk Annual #1-3 (1992, 1994)

New Warriors #14, 22-25, 47-51

New Warriors Annual #3

Avengers West Coast #93-95

Runaways Vol 2 #1-6

Marvel Team-Up #15-18, 25 (2005)

Loners #1-6 (2007)

Nova (vol. 4) #17-#19 (November 2008, January 2009)

War of Kings: Darkhawk #1 and #2 (February 2009 and March 2009)

War of Kings: Ascension #1-4 (April 2009, July 2009)

Discover and Discuss

Search this site for: Christopher Powell (Earth-616)

Footnotes

↑ Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe A-Z #3

↑ 2.02.1 The Loners #1

↑ Avengers Vol 3 #2

↑ Darkhawk Annual #3

↑ Darkhawk #1

↑ Amazing Spider-Man #353

↑ Runaways Vol 2 #1-3

↑ Runaways Vol 2 #6

↑ The Loners Vol 1-6

↑ Nova #17-18

↑ Avengers Arena #1

↑ Avengers Arena #3

↑ Avengers Arena #4

↑ Avengers Arena #18

↑ 15.015.1 Darkhawk #51

↑ Infinity Countdown: Darkhawk #1-3

↑ Infinity Countdown: Darkhawk #4

↑ Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 5 #1

↑ Guardians of the Galaxy Annual Vol 3 #1

↑ Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 5 #11-12

↑ Annihilation - Scourge Omega #1

↑ Infinity Countdown: Darkhawk #3

↑ Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe A-Z #3

↑ Darkhawk #51, Trading Card Variant

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[whumpsblog]

September 12th - "Emotional Support Animal”

The events here take place once Hanna has escaped from Connor’s possession and has reunited with her family. They have reestablished Safe Haven 2.0 in a new location and are trying to rebuild what they have lost.

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TAGGING: @broken-horn​ , @eatyourdamnpears​ , @bloodandbandages​ , @justplainwhump​ , @whump-dream​ , @butwhatifyouwrite​ **if you want to be added PM ME**

The creaky old fire escape groaned and protested under the weight of Hannas body as she ascended up the side of the building. It squeaked loudly but she knew it was safe to climb because she had climbed it a hundred times before – every morning for five years before she had been taken from her home, and every morning for the past two months since her return.

Using the railing she pulled herself up over the edge and the warm morning sunlight hit her face, turning her hair golden and warming her body and soul. A warm salty breeze that had been previously blocked by the building, hit her softly and played with her short hair.

The feeling was amazing, and she smiled as she stepped up onto the buildings brick ledge. She hopped down onto the gravel rooftop with a smile and took in the beautiful skyline; shiny buildings in front of a pink purple and red sky. An absolutely stunning and breathtaking sight and she was more than grateful to have it and such wonderful weather.

In the silence of the morning city the stones of the rooftop crunched loudly under her converse as she crossed the roof and took a seat on the farthest ledge. Right next to a small grey female cat that was perched on the ledge. It meowed eagerly when Hanna sat down next to it and rubbed its head against her leg and her body against her side.

Hanna chuckled. “Well good morning to you too cat.” She greeted friendly. Hanna gave the cat a little scratch behind its ears, which the cat thoroughly enjoyed, before pulling off her backpack and setting it down behind her.

Immediately the cat jumped down to inspect it.

“Yes yes yes, you know theres something in there for you.” Hanna laughed. “Would I ever come up here and not bring something for you?” she asked rhetorically because she was talking to a cat.

The cat looked up at her expectantly and rubbed its body against the bag.

Hanna smirked again and gently pushed the cat aside so she could get into it. She pulled two muffins out of the backpack, one blueberry and one chocolate, and unwrapped the blueberry muffin for her feline friend, before setting it down on the flat stone ledge of building. The cat jumped up and immediately started eating the muffin, biting at the edges like a human would. Hanna had once found it strange that the cat loved muffins so much and at like this, but eventually disregarded the strange behavior. She was a street cat after all. She was probably just hungry.

“My my my.” said Hanna as she watched the cat and started picking at her own muffin, “Someone is certainly hungry today.”

The cat looked up at Hanna with her green eyes, meeting her gaze with her typical intense human like eye contact, before turning her attention back to the muffin.

The first day Hanna came to this spot, the first morning she was back at Safe Haven, Hanna found this little curious cat sitting in her spot. It looked at her with upmost surprise, as if to ask her ‘what the heck are you doing here?’, but to Hanna’s surprise, she didn’t run away and hide when Hanna approached her. Nor did she run when Hanna took a seat next to her.

The morning after, Hannas second morning of being back at Safe Haven, the cat was there again. That time however, it didn’t look at her with nearly as much surprise, but with almost a degree of pleased expectancy.

Every day, except for Fridays, the cat joined Hanna on the roof, and eventually Hanna had started bringing her food. But only human food for the cat never cared for cat food, let it be dry or wet. The first time Hanna tried to feed her such food the cat straight up got up and left, almost as if it was offended.

But despite being offended however, it came back the next day, and was more than pleased when Hanna presented it with a muffin. “Such a picky little cat.” Hanna had teased after discovering that.

Hanna had grown to enjoy her curious little grey friend, and the cat seemed to enjoy her presence as well. Why wouldn’t it? It was a cat who got scratches and free food. Of course it would enjoy her presence.

Hanna stared swinging her legs over the ledge of the building to a beat of a song that hand been stuck in her head, humming softly to herself as she did so, while also eating. Occasionally she would sing to the cat and sometimes, Hanna would find it sitting there with its green eyes closed, listening to the sounds she produced and even, possibly, enjoying her singing.

Once Hanna was finished with her muffin and the cat had eaten almost a third of hers, the two sat and stared out over the city before them. Sometime the cat would curl up next to Hanna and take a quick cat nap, and other times it would join Hanna in a deep contemplation as it sat silently next to her and stared out over the city.

Today the cat had chosen neither. Instead it curled up on Hannas lap and stared out over the city. Choosing to listen and receive slow pets as Hanna talked to it. Hanna didn’t talk about anything in particular and somedays she would straight up bitch about the strange and annoying particulars of her life, but the cat always seemed interested. And the best thing was, it never told her that her thoughts and feelings were invalid. It just . . . listened.

After about an hour of petting the cats soft fur and talking to the cat Hanna sighed, before scooping it up in her arms and giving it a quick good by hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” She asked the cat as she set her back down on the ledge.

The cat stretched lazily and started grooming herself absent mindedly, not regarding her in the slightest.

Hanna only smirked. “Okay then.” The Omega grabbed her backpack off of the ground and swung it over her shoulder and turned to leave. She walked back to the ladder that she had climbed up and once she got to it, she looked back over to the small creature, to find it staring at her and waiting patiently for her to leave.

It always did that. It always watched her as she walked away.

Hanna offered the cat a smile and an easy wave before descending down the latter with the same amount of noise as before.

The cat remained where it was, listening to Hanna until it didn’t hear the ladder shift and squeak under her weight, and watched the young woman as she made her way down the street.

Only when the cat was sure Hanna wouldn’t look back over her shoulder, did the cat jump onto the rooftop and transform back into her human form.

In a mere few seconds the grey cat transformed herself into a young skinny African American girl with grey hair. She was dressed in a green tank top and cargo pants, and she stood up tall and stretched her arms behind her back, before sitting down on the ledge just as Hanna had several moments before. She scooped up the rest of her muffin and bobbed her head and swung her legs to the song Hanna had hummed and sung to her, as she finished it off happily.

She loved her mornings with her friend.

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

Upupa

Eurasian Hoopoe by Jaiprakashsingh, CC BY-SA 3.0 

Etymology: Hoopoe

First Described By: Linnaeus, 1758

Classification: Dinosauromorpha, Dinosauriformes, Dracohors, Dinosauria, Saurischia, Eusaurischia, Theropoda, Neotheropoda, Averostra, Tetanurae, Orionides, Avetheropoda, Coelurosauria, Tyrannoraptora, Maniraptoromorpha, Maniraptoriformes, Maniraptora, Pennaraptora, Paraves, Eumaniraptora, Averaptora, Avialae, Euavialae, Avebrevicauda, Pygostaylia, Ornithothoraces, Euornithes, Ornithuromorpha, Ornithurae, Neornithes, Neognathae, Neoaves, Inopinaves, Telluraves, Afroaves, Coraciimorphae, Cavitaves, Eucavitaves, Picocoraciae, Bucerotiformes, Phoeniculidae, Upupidae

Referred Species: U. africana (African Hoopoe), U. antaios (Saint Helena Hoopoe), U. epops (Eurasian Hoopoe), U. marginata (Madagascan Hoopoe)

Status: Extinct - Extant, Least Concern

Time and Place: Between 12,000 years ago and today, in the Holocene of the Quaternary 

Hoopoes are known from all over the Eastern Hemisphere 

Physical Description: Hoopoes are extremely distinctive birds! They have very long, thin, and curved bills that extend out greatly from their heads, and huge crests on their heads that are easily spotted. They have long, thin bodies, and feet built for perching. THeir wings are very square-ish, and they have shorter tails than other birds. However, their coloration is decidedly where they are most distinctive of all. They have bright orange heads, with orange crests - but the crests end in very slight white bandings and then black tips. Their bodies are orange, but their wings and rumps and tails are black and white striped all over! They are such beautiful, distinctive birds. The shades of orange can differ in brightness or redness based on species (for example, the African Hoopoe tends to be redder than the Eurasian Hoopoe), but they do tend to be overall similar to one another in appearance. Living species range between 19 and 32 centimeters long; the extinct Saint Helena Hoopoe, though it had smaller wings, probably could have reached 36 centimeters long.

Madagascan Hoopoe by Charles J. Sharp, CC BY-SA 4.0 

Diet: Hoopoes primarily feed on insects, especially larvae, though some larger animals are also fed upon by these animals. 

Common Hoopoe by Charles J. Sharp, CC BY-SA 4.0 

Behavior: Hoopoes are very curious, adventurous birds, spending a lot of their time foraginging on the ground - they’ll dig with their bills into soft earth, using them to turn over leaves and probing into the mud and dung for insects and other invertebrates. They’ll even use their bills to prise off the bark from trees, or forage for insects in lichen! Sometimes, these birds also smash their food against the ground to They’ll usually forage in pairs or alone, spending a lot of their days looking for food. Some Hoopoes - especially the Madagascan Hoopoe - will forage in even slightly larger groups, of up to six individuals. Fascinatingly, Hoopoes have their own version of Penicillin - Anting! They’ll find piles of ants and roll around in them, allowing the ants to cover their feathers. The ants then secret substances that will kill bacteria, fungi, and other insects - protecting the Hoopoe (and other birds that Ant) from illness! These birds also take dust and sand baths to clean themselves; they’ll also sunbathe by spreading out their wings and tail low to the ground and tilting their heads up! 

Madagascan Hoopoe by Charles J. Sharp, CC By-SA 4.0 

Hoopoes are distinctive in one very special way that lead to its name - their voice! They literally make calls that sounds like “hoo-poo-poo” and “hoop-oop hoop-oop” - leading to the name, Hoopoe, as well as the genus  name, Upupa, and the species name of the Eurasian species, epops. Interestingly enough, the Madagascan Hoopoe does not make this sound - but rather, more cooing sounds, like doves. These birds will also make harsh, scolding calls, trills, and hisses, depending on the situation. The females and males will communicate primarily in trilling sounds while watching out for their nests. These birds are often sedentary, not migrating over long distance, but northern populations usually do come south in the winter to avoid colder climates, creating a variety of populations with very distinctive seasons and migrational patterns from one another within the species. 

Saint Helena Hoopoe by Apokryltaros, CC BY 2.5 

Hoopoes are monogamous each breeding season (which varies throughout the year as Hoopoes live all over the Eastern Hemisphere), forming strong pair bonds (that only last for that period of time). Males make very frequent calls to establish their territories, and they often fight with each other very brutally - including stabbings that can leave their opponents blinded. Females will then mate with the winners of these contests, and together they make nests out of holes in trees and walls with very narrow entrances. They usually aren’t lined with much. The female then incubates the egg, while the male defends her and the nest. Clutch size tends to depend on location, varying between 4 and 12 eggs per nest. They are incubated for nearly three weeks. At hatching, the chicks are very white and fluffy after a few days, and the crest develops after two weeks. The chicks are able to leave the nest after about a month, though they still stick with their families for a little while. Sometimes, when males defeat each other and replace each other in the mated pair, they will kill the offspring of the replaced male. Females can produce foul-smelling liquid, as do the babies, to protect themselves from predators - since they smell like rotting meat, they can fend off meat-eaters and parasites, and potentially fend off bacteria. Chicks in the nests also are able to literally poop at intruders, helping them to protect themselves! After leaving the nest, they stay with the parents for another week as they gain their bearings; they then become sexually mature between ages one and two. 

Eurasian Hoopoe by Frank Vassen, CC By 2.0 

Ecosystem: Hoopoes live mainly in open country - pastures, orchards, steppe, dry savanna, wooded savanna, short grassland, and bare ground. They congregate near scattered, isolated trees for their roosting and nesting. They do need perches and shade, but they want the trees they get these services from to be rare in the environments - so they can go down to the ground to get their food! They are fed upon by herons, falcons, and many other birds of prey. 

African Hoopoe by Derek Keats, CC BY 2.0 

Other: Most hoopoes are not currently threatened with extinction - they are extremely common, widespread birds, that are even protected in many localities (being highly venerated in many cultures - it’s even mentioned extensively in the Quaran - and made the national bird of Israel; it is also considered a pest controller and thus is protected on that front also. Some local populations, such as those in Morocco, are more threatened due to local practices (such as selling them for medicine), but overall they seem to be doing well. In fact, there are probably as many as 10 million Hoopoe around today, if not more. Still, in more northern countries such as Germany they are more endangered, primarily due to changes in habitat, hunting, and human activity giving pressure to the populations. The numbers in Madagascar are slightly vulnerable too, given forest clearance. Hoopoes are closely related to the Hornbills! 

Saint Helena Hoopoe by Scott Reid 

Species Differences: The four species primarily differ based on location: The African Hoopoe is found in Africa; the Eurasian Hoopoe is found in Eurasia; the Madagascan Hoopoe is known from Madgascar: and the late Saint Helena Hoopoe - now extinct - was known from the island of Saint Helena off the coast of Africa! The Saint Helena Hoopoe differed from the other species in other ways, too - it had smaller wings, was somewhat larger, and was probably flightless! A giant flightless Hoopoe! And, like most large flightless birds of the recent past, it went extinct due to human activity on the island - this time, sometime in the 1500s.

~ By Meig Dickson

Sources Under the Cut 

Ashmole, N. P. 1963. The extinct avifauna of St. Helena Island. Ibis 103b:390-408

Burney, D. A., N. Vasey, L. R. Godfrey, Ramilisonina, W. L. Jungers, M. Ramarolahy, and L. Raharivony. 2008. New findings at Andrahomana Cave, southeastern Madagascar. Journal of Cave and Karst Studies 70(1):13-24

Carroll, R. L. 1988. Vertebrate Paleontology and Evolution 1-698

Clements, J. F., T. S. Schulenberg, M. J. Iliff, D. Roberson, T. A. Fredericks, B. L. Sullivan, and C. L. Wood. 2017. The eBird/Clements checklist of birds of the world: v2017

del Hoyo, J., Collar, N. & Kirwan, G.M. (2019). Madagascar Hoopoe (Upupa marginata). In: del Hoyo, J., Elliott, A., Sargatal, J., Christie, D.A. & de Juana, E. (eds.). Handbook of the Birds of the World Alive. Lynx Edicions, Barcelona.  

Goodman, S. M., M. J. Raherilalao, and K. Muldoon. 2013. Bird fossils from Ankilitelo Cave: inference about Holocene environmental changes in southwestern Madagascar. Zootaxa 3750:534-548

Kri?tín, A. & Kirwan, G.M. (2019). Common Hoopoe (Upupa epops). In: del Hoyo, J., Elliott, A., Sargatal, J., Christie, D.A. & de Juana, E. (eds.). Handbook of the Birds of the World Alive. Lynx Edicions, Barcelona.  

Linnaeus, C. 1758. Systema Naturae per Regna Tria Naturae, Secundum Classes, Ordines, Genera, Species, cum Characteribus, Differentiis, Synonymis, Locis. Editio Decima 1:1-824

Olson, S. L. 1975. Paleornithology of St. Helena Island, South Atlantic Ocean. Smithsonian Contributions to Paleobiology 23:1-49

Sinclair, Ian; Ryan, Peter (2009). Complete Photographic Field Guide: Birds of Southern Africa. Struik Nature.

[cogentranting]

Because I Would Not Stop For Death Pt 1.

Summary: My version of the ending of Supernatural, with a specific emphasis on Dean as the main character. Also on: AO3 Accompanying Meta: X

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Dean had spent his whole life traveling roads like this, stretching straight ahead into nothingness, no lights but the stars above, no sounds but the surging rock music and purr of the engine. And no one around—not people to save or monsters to fight—except, perhaps, for whatever family happened to be riding alongside him, though on this night he was alone. Normally, he found nights like these peaceful. The reverberations of the Impala’s engine felt like extensions of himself, and the open road looked like freedom. But now that feeling of peace and possibility had been replaced by an urgency that Dean could not explain. The plains around him felt raw and exposed, and some sober presentiment made him feel like playing music would shatter the tentative waiting. His foot pressed a little more insistently against the accelerator. He needed to get home.

The sound of his phone going off, startled Dean and he scrambled to answer it before a second ring could further disrupt the reverie of the night.

“Did you get it?” Sam’s haggard voice came over the line. It had been months since Chuck had turned on them and raised the monsters from their past. They’d been run ragged, chasing down rogue monsters and dodging old enemies, all the while looking for something that would help them when the other shoe inevitably dropped, and Chuck made his next move. It had taken its toll on Sam, and Dean had fought hard to find an excuse for Sam to sit this particular mission out, hoping that maybe Sam would rest. If any rest had happened, it had not been enough.

“The lead was a bust,” Dean replied. Rumors and scraps of lore had pointed to a hand of God surfacing in a small town a few hours away, and Dean had chased after it in the desperate hope that it might be something they could use against Chuck. All he had gotten for his trouble was a cursed object and some bizarre locals. “What about things there? How’s Jack?”

The one bright spot, the little piece of hope that Dean was clinging to but couldn’t really believe: Jack had been resurrected months ago, and was now fully restored to them. Soul and all. “Good,” Sam replied. “He’s worried about taking on Chuck, obviously and he’s stressed. But he’s himself again. And he’s getting stronger.”

Dean breathed a sigh of relief in spite of himself. He let the hope grow a little bigger, even as the morass of his thoughts dragged at him. He could almost feel the gun in his hand, see the look on Jack’s face as Dean had pointed it at him, with every intention of—Dean cut his thought off fighting the shame and guilt aside for the moment. Of course he and Jack had talked when he came back.  There had been confessions, lots of guilt, and Jack had forgiven him, and he’d forgiven Jack for… that other thing. Dean couldn’t quite bear to name it, even in his own thoughts. Still the thought of what he’d tried to do to Jack would be added to the long list of things that Dean could never wholly forgive himself for.

He repositioned the phone on his ear. “Well good. Bout time we had a win.” He forced false optimism into his voice. “Team Free Will 2.0. Ready to save the world one last time.” He hoped that maybe a little of his manufactured hope would rub off on Sam. He never heard Sam’s reply.

The Impala’s headlights caught the shadow of something in the road and Dean slammed on the brakes. The phone fell to the floor and slid under the seat. The speeding car screeched to a halt just a few feet from the massive barrier. For a few seconds Dean leaned over the steering wheel and stared at the obstacle which blocked the road completely. Well… to say that it blocked the road wasn’t accurate. It was the road. Earth and asphalt had been ripped up and formed into a wall, five feet high, several feet thick. Something about the way it was piled gave the distinct impression of having exploded upward of its own accord.

Dean shook his head. “Uh uh. Nope.” Sam’s voice could be heard faintly calling his name from the phone beneath the seat. Dean ignored it and threw the car into reverse.

An invisible force slammed into the side of the Impala. The quiet night was torn open by the protesting shriek and thunder of metal as the car briefly lifted into the air and then hit the ground, rolling once… twice… three times before coming to a rest startlingly upright.

Stars and shadows crowded Dean’s vision. There was an ache in his body that seemed to have no origin and no end. Practically on instinct, he turned the ignition key. The engine sputtered and died. Dean felt almost calm; the night’s urgency had melted away with the arrival of the threat his instincts had awaited. Here was the fight his blood so often called for. His hand found the demon knife without issue in the pitch darkness of the car, as if it were drawn by fate.

Slowly he stepped from the car, letting the door swing shut behind him as he surveyed the plain for his assailant. This was Dean Winchester to the core—bruised and bloodied, nothing but the Impala at his back, the potential of all the horrors of the night before him, only a knife in his hands, and still he wore the steadfast conviction that this fight was not his last. This was Dean, and the three approaching figures knew it well.

Not much scared Dean. He’d been hunting since well before he’d passed through puberty. Since then, he’d fought gods and angels and primordial beings, killed many of them, and mouthed off to all. But if any of those things he’d faced in all his years of hunting could make his blood run cold, it was these three walking toward him.

Abaddon. Alistair. Azazel.

“Hey fellas,” Dean called as they drew closer. “You’re looking better than the last time I saw you—you get some work done?”

Abaddon gave a terse laugh. “I wish I could say the same about you Dean. You look tired. You really should take better care of yourself. Such a waste of that pretty face. And since we’re on the subject,” she reached up and pulled the collar of her shirt down just far enough to reveal the tops of a series of thick jagged scars. Scars from where Dean had hacked at her chest with the First Blade. “You did a little work on me yourself.”

Demons didn’t scar, and every time Dean had been resurrected his old wounds and scars had been erased. This must have been a special gift from Chuck.

“Did a little work on all of us,” Alistair added, gesturing to the scars crisscrossing his face from the day Dean had tortured him. “I have to say, cosmetic surgery: not your calling.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Dean lunged forward with the demon knife, slashing Alistair’s face and sinking the blade into Abaddon’s chest in one motion, all the while internally raging at the futility of the action. A butter knife would do him just as much good against things like these. Abaddon roared in fury, while Alistair’s throat contorted with a deranged chuckle.

Azazel flicked his wrist indolently. Dean slammed backwards into the Impala. “Chill out, Kid.”

The force pressed him persistently back against the twisted metal, just hard enough to hurt. It always felt like someone was sitting on his chest—a little difficult to breathe, speaking a little too strenuous to be worth it.

“Hey Sweetheart, hold this for me,” Azazel called to Abaddon. “If you can manage. I heard that last time you had some trouble with that.” Abaddon scowled and assumed control of holding Dean in place.

Azazel sidled forward and leaned against the car next to Dean, his face a mere breath away. The smug half smile ignited something in Dean, the embers of an old rage he’d finally buried after decades of effort, now recklessly thrown into the open to be fanned into flame once more. “Ah Dean. It’s been too long. Let’s catch up.”

“Sure,” Dean snarled around the choking sensation that comes when the deepest wounds reopen. “Remember that time I shot you in the face?”

The demon gave a genuine grin even as unmistakable savagery flashed in his yellow eyes. “Never thought you had it in you kid. I mean, you told me you would do it. Back in the 70’s. Just before I killed Grandpa. But still, when you pulled that trigger, I was stunned.”

“He doesn’t have the eye for talent that I do.” Alistair winked. He had retrieved the demon knife from where it had fallen on the grass and was idly turning it over and over.

Azazel nodded thoughtfully. “It’s true. I dropped the ball. Put all my money on Sammy. From what I hear, apart from a few benders, he never really lived up to all the hype. But the things I’ve heard about you. Daddy’s pathetically loyal little attack dog became Alistair’s star pupil. Started the Apocalypse. Knocked the angels off their perch. Bore the Mark of Cain. And became a knight of Hell. Oh I wish I could’ve seen Dean Winchester tearing humans apart with that mark.” He pried Dean’s arm away from his side and examined the forearm. “Shame you got rid of it. Real waste.”

Alistair stalked closer. The eerie white eyes flicked from side to side, tracking some phantom thought. “You should really be thanking me, Dean.” The knife turned again and again in his hands. “I remade you. The old you never would have made it this far. Anything remarkable about you I carved into you. In a way, you owe me.” He leaned in, so close Dean could smell the decay lingering on him, and with a startling intensity he searched Dean’s gaze for something. His pallid lips curled into a smile. “You can pay some of that back now.”

This time Dean didn’t see the knife turn. It was in and out three times and the blood was beginning to warm the shirt over his lower abdomen before the pain registered. A quiet gasp was all Dean could manage.

Azazel carried on as if the violence had escaped his notice. “But of course there’s so much that you’ve done that I just can’t allow you to get away with. I had all these glorious plans about how I was going to get Hell on Earth ready and then bring back Lucifer. Then when, he finally does come back, you go and get an archangel supercharge and kill him. And even worse, there’s the horribly decent upbringing you’re giving Lucifer’s kid.”

The demon’s voice faded out slightly and as Dean’s head lolled backwards the stars swirled above him. He recognized the thing swelling up within him. That strange force that was creeping into the space left behind by his blood as it seeped into the night air. It was death. He should know. He’d died enough times. The thought of dying here made him more angry than scared. It wasn’t fair that he should have beaten these scars of the past so long ago, and that they should be thrown back at him now. But even that anger was fading quickly. The stars made his anger feel small.

           Vaguely, he wondered where he would go this time. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go to Heaven. His mom and dad and Bobby were there, but there were a lot of bad memories up there—vengeful angels and the like. Besides, with God himself mad at him, it seemed pretty pointless to hope for a shot at Heaven. Alistair here was certainly a reminder of how much he wanted to avoid going back to Hell. The Empty didn’t sound much better. Purgatory wouldn’t be so bad. Hunting forever, never losing the thrill of the fight, maybe he’d even see Benny again. Not so bad at all.

           Azazel wrenched his head back down, forcing him to look into yellow eyes. Hatred that strong and old is dense and it held Dean in this life a little longer. He gritted his teeth. The fight wasn’t gone from him yet. Silently, without even really forming the words in his head, Dean half-formed a prayer to Jack.

           “Here’s the thing, Kid,” Azazel began, with the tone of a business negotiator. “I’d like to take my time with this. Relish the moment, make it slow. But, we’re not here just for us. I’m sure you guessed, the Big Man brought us back for a reason. He asked us to deliver a gift for you.”

           He couldn’t turn his head to see where the demons produced it from, but when Azazel held up the crystal, glowing with searing white light, Dean recognized it instantly. A bomb forged from the energy of hundreds of thousands of souls, specifically for the purpose of killing the Darkness.

           Abaddon laughed. “Looks like he remembers it.”

           “Oh good. So I won’t have to explain what this does.” Azazel fondled the bomb carefully. “A weapon capable of killing God’s sister… makes you wonder what it’ll do to a human.”

           There was no time for any sort of response. A few words of incantation and the light blazed out of the crystal into Dean’s chest. His mouth gaped, his fingernails dug at the Impala’s paint, all he saw was light, and all he could feel was heat. Then the night went cold and silent once more and he gasped, small shallow breaths, because anything deeper pulled at the ragged wound in his stomach. In the aftermath of the brilliant light, the night was blacker and all Dean could see was Azazel’s mocking yellow eyes.

           “Good catching up, Kid.”

           The weight lifted from his chest and Dean dropped to the ground, alone again, the twisted mass of the Impala the only sight for miles. He tried to get his legs under him but they didn’t respond. A trembling hand went to the knife wound and came away slick with blood. Cold pulled at his limbs and numbed the edges of his mind, all the while an unutterable heat was building in his chest. Building and building, with a heat that threatened to eclipse his very being, pulling the bits of himself away from each other, even as that cold, seeping nothing dragged him down and down. He couldn’t hold his hand against the flow of blood anymore and it dropped to his side. Low pulses of energy shone around him, real enough to illuminate the night. He closed his eyes and felt Baby’s cold metal against his skin.

           The rustle of wings forced his eyes open. There was Jack standing on the road. But it was fear, not hope that spurred Dean. He could feel it, like a racing heartbeat, the urgent pulse of the bomb within him. The god-killing bomb. Jack took a step off the road, toward him. Dean found one last surge of adrenaline, or will power, or fatherly instinct and with all his strength shouted, “Jack, no! Get back!”

He saw it in Jack’s face as the boy sensed the energy radiating off him and realized the danger. And in relief he listened to the rustle of wings as Jack retreated. There was a shattering, blinding, rush of light and heat and energy, and the Kansas plain looked like daylight, then deadly whiteness, then madness itself. Then it was night once more and even the stars seemed dark. And there was nothing.

Jack watched the flash from a few miles away. He felt nothing. But a very different nothing than what he had experienced when he had no soul. That was a calm, cold nothing. This was a tense, fragile nothing, like a held breath. As darkness settled again he took flight and reappeared where he’d left Dean.

He thought he’d missed his mark. This was not the place he’d left. There was no swaying prairie grass. No worn asphalt. No Impala. No Dean. There was only a ringing in the air, and dirt that, on closer inspection, was not just dark but scorched black. Jack stood and felt the aura of destruction that hung about this place, absorbing to the core of his being the sense of all the things that on this night had been reduced to a shattered, stark nothing.

   The phone dragged down Sam’s hand as he paced the library, willing it to ring. Dark shadows under his eyes gave his a face a haggard look, as if it had been weeks of sleeplessness, not a single night. Twelve hours had passed since Dean’s phone cut out. Twelve hours since any news.

While Sam paced, Cas sat at one of the tables, dreadfully still, his faze fixed staidly, on an indeterminable point on the wall. Sam whirled toward him, his fear suddenly made manifest as anger. “I’m going out to look for them.”

Cas held out an arm perfunctorily, playing his role in a scene that had already been rehearsed several times over the interminable hours. “You already went out looking, for hours, and you didn’t find any trace of them.”

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

“You don’t even know which roads to search. Jack has wings. If anyone can find Dean, it’s him.”

A hundred memories of Dean in danger, hurt, dying, competed for attention in Sam’s mind. He opened his mouth to continue the fight or give in, he hadn’t quite decided which. Before he could muster the energy to see where his words led him, he was interrupted by the sound of wings.

Jack landed heavily, staggering slightly. The boy looked wearier than a nearly omnipotent being had any right to. Both men took a staggering half step toward him, unsure whether to rush to his aid or give him space. Even as relief at Jack’s safety calmed a flurry of fears in Sam’s mind, he was searching the empty space behind Jack, as if believing that Dean would suddenly materialize.

Jack’s shattered stare held their questions at bay. The bunker itself held a trembling breath. Ghosts of memories peered in through the doorways, waiting for an answer to an unasked question.

When he could stand it no longer, Sam broke the silence, his voice uncharacteristically small. “Did you find him.”

“There were demons… and I thought I got there in time… Dean told me to run and I- I… there was an explosion like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

Cas chose his words like picking through shards of broken glass. “Jack, what kind of explosion?”

Asking that question was easier. Focus on the trees, don’t look at the forest. Not yet.

Jack seemed lost for a moment. “There was this energy… it felt like” he searched his memory trying to pinpoint the memory that itched in the back of his mind. “Like the energy from my soul I used to kill Michael.”

Cas’s gaze darkened at some thought that accosted him, but Sam had reached his breaking point. “But Dean. Jack, where’s Dean?”

Jack looked up, eyes wide, as if asking for Sam’s forgiveness. “He’s gone.”

“Then bring him back. Like you brought Cas back.”

“I tried. But it was like with Mary-” Jack choked on the words and the memory and Sam flinched a little. Jack cleared his throat and started again. “It was like with Mary. There was nothing left. Nothing I could do. After the explosion… even the Impala was just gone.”

Sam sagged against the wall. Empty space opened below him and he could feel it sucking him down, down, further down into the great vacuum of everyone he’d lost. There’d always been so much loss in his life. From his mother, to the friends left behind by a life on the road, to Jess, his father, Bobby… But no loss ever ached quite like the prospect of life without Dean. It was like asking him to live without the ground beneath his feet.

The look of a caged animal came into Sam’s eyes. “I need to see him. Take me to Heaven.” He’d lived without Dean before. And every time something took Dean away, it left him changed. Sometimes incomplete, or twisted, or broken, sometimes not. But always changed. And maybe he could do it this time, now that he had Cas and Jack and Eileen, and if Dean were in Heaven with Mom and Dad and Bobby… If he could just talk to Dean and know. Then maybe he could know what to do.

But Jack shook his head, a little fearfully, a little desperately, like a child overwhelmed by what they didn’t understand. “He’s not there.”

“Then take me to Hell!” Sam roared, with more anger than he’d intended.

Jack didn’t flinch away. He understood the desperation gripping Sam. He’d felt it himself hours earlier when he found that he couldn’t bring Dean back, and had formed the exact same plan that now burned wildly through Sam, and likely Cas as well. In vain. “He’s not there either.” His voice had become softer, like a parent soothing a child.

Panic spun Sam’s heart. “What do you mean? Where is he?”

Jack shook his head. “I searched everywhere. Heaven, Hell, Purgatory. I searched and I tried to get answers from every angel and demon and monster that I met but he’s not there. I don’t… I don’t know where Dean’s soul is. Maybe the Empty but I can’t get there. Not on my own.”

“No. I don’t think he’s in the Empty.” Cas’s voice was low and filled with trepidation. Neither Jack nor Sam dared prompt him to continue. He did anyway. “The way Jack described the energy, as being like the magic from his soul… Sam, I think the soul bomb killed Dean.”

“The one Rowena and Billie helped us make?”

Cas nodded. “Or one like it. The thing is, that bomb was designed to kill the Darkness. To kill something on the level of God himself. If that’s what killed Dean…” His voice trailed off.

For a moment the trio felt the cold expanse of the empty bunker press down on them with a menacing, aching, loneliness. Finally Cas, collected himself and pronounced his judgment.

“I don’t think Dean’s soul is in Heaven or Hell, because I think it was completely destroyed.”

______________________________________________________________

Part 2

[lothirielswan]

“Goblin Ikea Furniture” [5]

Quest Objective: Survive Dunkirk 2.0.

Maybe if I say more incorrect things about Lor’themar, I’ll lure Rommath out of hiding. I darted from one tree trunk to another, my back pressed against the obsidian bark. I could’ve covered my glowing eyes, but what was the point? Genn made it very clear my scent would give me away. Luckily the large party held most of their attention.

The pound of raindrops hitting the blanket of leaves above me mixed with the shouts and howls from our party. I didn't have a lot of time–the rescue trip would transform into a bloody massacre if I couldn't find Rommath soon.

I tucked my hair behind my ear as it started to rise in volume from the humidity. I don’t care if I might be sporting an afro, the Grand Magister is more important. Where is he?

I squinted to find bright green dots in place of red ones. The searing touch of Foreshadowing pierced back of my skull when I looked to the left. There was a slight tingle that accompanied the pain, like a reassuring tone.

I held my breath as I left the waterlogged tree behind and sprinted across the crimson-bathed grass. None of the undead worgen had made an appearance.

Did Sylvanas really raise them? There was a prominent tug in my chest when I thought about it. I suppose there’s no other option, it has to be her work. One thing I do know is that I shouldn't care this much, but I do.

I pressed a hand above my neck and held in a wince. No sign of Rommath.

In one moment of desperation, I whispered starkly, “Lor’themar sucks!”

I peeked behind a tree trunk and sniffed the air for the smell of strong hair products. Nothing.

Suddenly I spun on my heel. I resisted the urge to gag as a vile stench harassed my nose. Two rows of yellowing teeth protruded from the jaw of an undead worgen. As it raised a claw for a killing strike, frost grew from behind it's back and sealed the worgen in a block of ice.

I leaned to look out beyond the frozen cage and saw Rommath perched up on one of the high tree branches. “You suck.” He remarked.

I sidestepped the frost-bitten worgen and crossed my arms as I stared up at the Grand Magister of Silvermoon stuck in a tree. Did he think it was a shelf? Thank the Stars I didn't say that out loud.

“Can you make snow cones?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

It was hard to decipher Rommath’s actual expression with the bottom part of his face masked, but his squinting eyes said it all. “Silvermoon might have benefited from your absence.”

“That's a lot of high talk when you’re stuck in a tree–no pun intended.” I said, crossing my arms as I stared up at him. A scream erupted in the distance, reminding me of the gravity of our situation. The more I waited, the more our party suffered. “We don't have much time. We can't outrun the worgen–can you please turn them into frozen popsicle sticks?”

“I prefer a more formal term, but for the sake of simplicity, yes,” Rommath crouched atop his branch, holding onto the trunk of the tree as it teetered. “Do not repeat a word of this to Halduron.”

“Fine, let’s just go–ACK!” I barely had time to brace myself as the Grand Magister fell on top of me. Thorns and mud gnawed at my clothes when I hit the ground. I should really invest in a back brace.

Rommath stood and dusted himself off. He announced above me, “Something slipped my mind.”

I tried to control my lethal glare from the ground as I leaned up on my elbows. What? You eat more doughnuts than I do?

“I have the ability to slow my fall.” He said.

I released my irritation in one sharp, precise exhale as I blew my bangs away. “Silvermoon must really benefit from your absence.”

Thorns and twigs pinched at my skin as I rose from the ground. Rommath stared at me intently as I straightened my coat and plucked twigs from my hair.

“There is something...familiar about you. But I cannot fathom what.” He noted.

It was a peculiar statement that caught me off guard. When I came upon the realization why, my mouth was dry and wordless. Rommath’s inquiring gaze bore into me until I finally said, “Neither can I.”

I gestured back towards the struggling troops. “After you.”

~*~

The noises we overheard made my blood run cold as I lead Rommath back through the woods. I caught flashes of blood and gaping wounds as we intercepted worgen, undead, humans and blood elves fighting back to back.

Rommath stopped short and removed his glowing staff from his back. His demanding stare caught mine as he said, “Keep them off me.”

I spun on my heel as I searched for Lor’themar. He deserved to know that Rommath was found–for better or worse. I saw Halduron with a nasty scar across his cheek. The air was laid thick with the rusty odor of blood and deteriorating flesh.

Lor’themar broke away from the line of trees, his ponytail almost as frizzy as mine. He bowed his head to the Grand Magister and held his sword at the ready beside me.

Lor’themar’s words were tinted with the smell of wine. “Thank you.”

I nodded, feeling the greatest surge of relief since the start of this mission. At least something is going right. I managed to make this reassurance crumble with one question.

What about Anduin?

Thankfully, Andy wasn't hard to find. The white flashes came from somewhere in the center of the clump of soldiers. I couldn't determine what condition he was in, but I assumed he was the reason we had so few casualties thus far.

Rommath’s light had attracted the undead, and I used it to my advantage. As the creatures lumbered forward on long, fixed steps, I slipped on my goggles and became one with the shadows. My scent shouldn't be such an issue now–there’s too much commotion going on. The only thing I have to worry about is being quick, and not to think of what will happen if I'm not.

I didn’t strike killing blows–those would be ineffective and a waste of time. Instead, I went for dazing strikes. I stunned some by targeting arteries that shut the body down. Other times I used my pistol and shot close to their ears. I was nothing but an air of confusion that my enemies choked on. I didn't dominate with bright lights or battle cries; just utter hysteria.

I raced towards another target as the temperature suddenly dropped and caressed my skin with goosebumps. I looked back at Rommath as his eyes took on a white glow. Ice shot up from the ground and encased the undead worgen.

It’s not a competition or anything, but...Khadgar’s better.

The Blackwald was silent, but the heaves of our living party members filled the void. I overheard Halduron dare one of the rangers to put their tongue to the ice, earning a stern glare from Rommath.

“We don't have time to stand around, this isn't all of them.” Lor’themar shed the blood from his sword on the ground and returned the weapon to it's sheath.

Genn spoke to the rest of the party, “To Stormglen!”

His declare should have been comforting, but the look Lor’themar sent my way told me otherwise. We hurried past the frozen statues and I wondered how long they would stay like that. The line of trees lessened as we came to an a street lined with Gilnean houses. They were made in the same dreary colors to match the land and the windows were dark. I knew the look of a life left behind well enough.

Genn’s people did go through a lot. Sylvanas really wrecked these poor introverts.

Genn stopped short close to Lor’themar and I. He gestured with a claw towards the abandoned homes. “What is left of my people.”

Lor’themar had a dark glimmer in his eyes when he said, “I’ve seen worse.”

The plight of Sylvanas’ personal punching bags. My gaze flitted between the two leaders as Halduron passed behind me and leaned close to my ear, “If we’re bragging about whose life is more unbearable, my tongue really hurts.”

I had to keep walking and dragged Halduron with me so the two old men wouldn't see my smirk. 

When we ran out of cobblestone road and empty houses, a strip of packed, gray sand clashed with the whitecaps of the ocean. Two ships were wedged upon the shore hailing with the symbols of Stormwind and Silvermoon. Unease trailed it's fingers up my arms as I studied the two vessels for damage.

“Why haven't they fired on each other yet?” I whispered like the two ships would come alive if I spoke too loud.

The scar across Halduron’s cheek had dried, but I couldn't imagine how painful it was for him to talk as he hummed, “Lor’themar being the wise, considerate alcoholic he is left many kegs on our ship. Perhaps they’re drunk?”

“When are sailors not drunk?” I asked.

“When they join Sylvanas’ ranks.”

The two undead soldiers carrying the fallen body from before passed by, “He’s right, you know.”

Wow. They move surprisingly fast. I felt my ears prickle up at my sides as the undead skittered across the wet sand with skinless toes peeking out of their boots. They knocked on the hull to the blood elves’ ship and peered at the low deck.

Halduron’s long eyebrows went up and I looked to the soft crush of Anduin’s footsteps on the ground. Our party had caught up with us and hastily climbed the ladders onto the ship. The wooden vessels groaned as they rocked back and forth.

Halduron excused himself to help the evacuation as I drifted to Andy’s side. The wind lifted tendrils of his golden bangs and tugged them towards the sea.

“I hope this stays a rescue mission,” He said wistfully as he looked out onto the waves. The pattern of white and black along the water reminded me of piano keys.

Hopefully he's right. I nodded and moistened my lips. “Me too.”

When I was standing still, I could feel all the cuts and bruises from the Blackwald (and Rommath) on my skin. I couldn't risk Anduin healing me in front of the troops, so I kept my lips sealed about it.

I don't know how I'm going to keep all of this from Sylvanas...I can't. I have to tell her, I have too many witnesses. But...maybe I can spare Anduin from this story.

Andy’s head shifted towards me. “You still believe in peace?”

“When I lived on Outland, what mattered most was survival, not races or factions.” I said, plucking my goggles from my face. The cool, salty breeze stung my eyes as I looked out. There weren't any oceans where I came from. In some places, the breeze didn't exist either.

I pushed all of my hair onto my left shoulder so I could glance at Anduin. “We didn't have the luxury to nitpick...I see no point in doing so now.”

Andy smiled a little at hearing this. His elegant voice replied, “I'm glad to hear that. Perhaps we can continue this conversation at another time.”

“I’d like that.” I said.

We broke apart as the last few of the troops collected on the ships. Lor’themar followed up behind me on the wooden ladder that trembled beneath my grasp. When I reached the top, Halduron offered a hand and pulled me to the surface.

Halduron was right; I looked past the wounded and the soldiers at the drunk sailors hiccuping as they went. My eyes widened at the captain swaying on his feet.

Now I know what drunk pineapple looks like. You really do learn something new each day.

The fear of undead worgen had dissipated, but a new tension lay thick in the air. As the ship departed from the gray strand, most passengers looked over to the shadow of the Alliance ship on the horizon.

“Aren't we going to fire?” Rommath remarked. He leaned heavily on his staff, still drained from casting the spell that saved our lives.

I leaned slightly towards Lor’themar, “This is a rescue mission, not an assault on the Alliance, sir.”

“Thank you, Eona.”

“It's about the people.”

“I remember, Ms. Strider.”

“Sylvanas wants her troops back in one piece.”

“They can be reassembled.”

I bit my lip. “But do you think Sylvanas would want to put her people back together like goblin Ikea furniture?”

The Regent Lord was silent.

“...Do not attack the Alliance ships. Our mission is to get our people home foremost. To Tirisfal Glades.”

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

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