#i would DIE AND GO TO HEAVEN if somebody drew any of this

[inamindfarfaraway]

I can perfectly picture a Batman: Wayne Family Adventures two-partner that properly introduces Harvey Dent, Two-Face, their relationships with Bruce and vice versa. But I can't draw in the slightest. So I'm going to script it and you'll have to use your imagination. It’s a little longer than the average WFA two-parter. But given how many thoughts and feelings I have about Harvey, I’d say it’s impressively concise. For me. If you like how I write Harvey, I recommend my fanfic spotlighting him as a teenager, compared to which I must warn you this script is positively fluffy. Read it on AO3 here! If you want to draw any of this, please tell me in advance and use the updated original post or the AO3 fic, not necessarily your reblog.

A Second Opinion

Part 1

[Panel one. Vertical rectangle, full screen. Nighttime. The exterior of an abandoned building that is notably more decrepit on the right side, Two-Face's current base of operations, from a distance and high angle. The Batmobile is parked outside. Bruce as Batman is seen on the rooftop from behind, striding stiffly toward the skylight. A speech bubble floats in the air above him.]

Barbara: Are you sure you don't want backup?

[Panel two. Barbara as Oracle watches with a frown of wary concern at her desk in the Clocktower.]

I know these confrontations are very personal for you -

[Panel three. Bruce leans over the skylight seen from below it, about to kick it in. His fists and jaw are clenched, teeth gritted and eyes narrowed sharply; even for Batman on a mission, he's in a bad mood.]

Bruce: I'm fine. I have him right where I want him.

[A speech bubble floats in the space below the panel.]

Harvey: I have him right where I want him!

[Panel four. Fade into a flashback. In stark contrast to the dull and dark blues, greys and blacks of the present scene, the flashback panels are full of light, saturated and warm colours. Harvey Dent stands at a round red table outside a café on a sunny day, beaming. He's a handsome, sturdy man with neat, short black hair, a semi-formal brown suit and wide brown eyes. He was seated, but has risen and slammed his palms down on the table in his enthusiuam. Slightly low angle, like the camera is on the table, and to the right so we have a better view of his left side. A gold wedding ring gleams on his finger. His introduction box reads: ‘Harvey Dent, District Attorney. Gotham’s best lawyer, technically and morally.’.]

And think of the implications! If the Salvatore Maroni can face justice, so can anyone.

[Panel five. He paces a little behind his chair, gesturing animatedly. Motion lines trail and curve around the other way behind him. His right side is now in profile. Same angle, but pulled back to see over the shoulder of a younger Bruce wearing a nondescript black shirt.]

If his empire can crumble, so can any criminal organization or corrupt institution, no matter how powerful. This trial could be a beacon of hope for Gotham. Proof that the law can actually help people, that the spirit of it is alive.

[Panel six. Opposite Harvey, Bruce is sitting comfortably. He has notable eyebags and less light in his eyes than Harvey, but smiles in earnest admiration.]

Bruce: I think you're right. Maroni used to own the city, but ever since you, Jim and Batman started working together...

[Panel seven. Side shot of both of them from Bruce's right and Harvey's left, showing them down to their legs. Bruce leans forward. Harvey has sat back down. In the background, their memories conjure a vision of Batman and Harvey shaking hands before the Bat-Signal. The figures' lower halves fade to translucent above and behind their real counterpart's heads. That Harvey is smiling too and the one leaning forward, while Batman's mouth is a flat line but his eyes are soft.]

things have changed more than I could have imagined.

Harvey: I just hope we can keep it up. Maybe in a few years, Gotham won't need a Batman.

[Panel eight. Close-up on the right half of Bruce's face, a narrow vertical box in the upper left section of the screen. His expression is of shock and vulnerability, although he isn’t offended. He has simply never considered being able to end his crusade before. Panel nine. A bigger square containing his entire face and taking up the rest of the screen.]

Bruce: Do you really believe that?

[Panel ten. Closer front shot of Harvey at eye-level. We can now see that he actually does have bags under his eyes. He's more pensive and his smile drops.]

Harvey: Yeah. I mean, Bats is a great guy. I don't want him to just disappear. But his methods...

[Panel eleven. Deep shot. Two petty crooks run through an alleyway at night while Batman looms behind them atop a ledge, a huge, hulking silhouette crouched animalistically with piercing white eyes and clawed fingers raised to pounce. The scene is somewhat abstracted to highlight the criminals' emotions. The alley walls seem to be closing in on them and Batman's curling cape flows into the surrounding darkness. Angle is above the very small-looking criminals, but below Batman such that his striking, soulless eyes glare right at the reader. Harvey's speech bubbles are in the top left and bottom right corners, framed by the blackness.]

fighting violence with violence and terror with terror... they're hardly ideal, are they?

[Panel eleven. Harvey places his right hand on Bruce's left arm in pride, who is too busy processing to return his smaller, softer smile of personal affection. Side shot from Harvey's left and Bruce's right that cuts them off at the torso.]

In my opinion, the work you're doing with the Wayne Foundation does better at lowering crime rates in the long run.

[Panel twelve. Over-the-shoulder shot again, Harvey's this time to show Bruce full of love, relaxing and leaning into the touch.]

Bruce: Well, in my opinion, you're a better person than me or Batman.

[His second speech bubble descends into the empty space.]

And I’d love to see the day Batman can retire.

[Panel thirteen and fourteen occupy different vertical halves of the screen and the same horizontal space for half of their lengths, the former higher, the second lower. The first shows Harvey from the right cut off at the thighs, in a courtroom, delivering some kind of unwritten passionate declaration; on his left and in the background, the defendant, the aforementioned crime boss Maroni in a nice black suit, holds an opaque bottle labelled as cough medicine and smirks viciously. The second is a close-up of Harvey’s head on the floor. Only the right half of his face is visible, the left turned away, and he is howling in unfathomable agony, tears streaming down his cheek. The stem of his speech bubble reaches down to the top of panel fifteen. This is a straightforward frontal shot of Bruce in the present. He stands tense and grim, poised to throw a Batarang with his right arm. Silver moonbeams shine through the broken skylight. Layered in front of the panel’s top border and behind Bruce, Harvey’s scream appears to ring through the cowl’s bat ears and extends continuously offscreen in extra large, blood-red lettering. The bubble fades around it to make it stand against the background.]

Harvey: ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Bruce: Two-Face.

[Panel sixteen. Same angle of Harvey and Two-Face. The left half of their face is ravaged by raw, pink chemical burn scars and has a bloodshot eye with burned lids; even their right eye is sunken and shadowed with a menacing glint; their hair is the same on the right, but bleached white, longer and wild on the left; they wear an angular, elegant suit divided vertically in alternating black and white. They’re smiling smugly, posture calm, confident and commanding. Their right hand aims a pistol at Bruce, and the camera. The other hand, bereft of a ring, holds their two-headed coin. Their introduction box reads: ‘Harvey Dent & Two-Face. All the drive. Fractional sanity. Half the morals, or less.’. The outlines of their speech bubbles are smooth as usual on the right and rough and scribbled on the left when both alters in the system are in relative cooperation - a dual consciousness referred to as ‘H/TF’ in the script - completely smooth when the still goodhearted, but deeply troubled Harvey is speaking alone, and completely irregular for the much more merciless, callous Two-Face personality alone.]

H/TF: Bats! Let us guess: you didn’t bring any backup because you have a self-righteous hero complex about us in particular?

[Panel seventeen. Closer frontal shot of Bruce scowling and hunching his shoulders in shameful concession.]

Two-Face: Good. Those Robins are nothing but trouble.

[Panel eighteen. Long rectangle panning down the room. Bruce and H/TF are in the background as H/TF gesture with their left arm to two men dressed like high-level businessmen in the foreground, tied to chairs with a gun pressed to each of their heads by H/TF's identical twin henchmen. The captives are bruised, cut and slumped in exhaustion.]

H/TF: Now, take one step toward us and the hostages get it. Don't go feeling sorry for them. They work for Oswald Cobblepot. His reform is fake -

H/TF and Bruce: Obviously.

H/TF: And they've already told us everything.

[Panel nineteen. Horizontal side shot from Bruce's left and H/TF's right, to frame the hostages between them.]

H/TF: But if you go after us, you'll lose your best lead on his criminal activities.

Bruce: And people will be dead.

H/TF: Yeah, whatever.

[Panel twenty. Close shot of H/TF from the left. They look left, contemplating their coin in their open hand. One face is corroded and blackened by acid, the other shiny and clean, both visible as it's drawn in a motion frame while spinning.]

You say that making our decisions based on chance is irrational and unhealthy, but believing in free will isn't all roses either. So many tough choices.

[Panel twenty-one is small box in the middle of the screen capturing the impact of the Batarang knocking the gun out of one of the henchmen's hand. H/TF's speech bubble floats in the space below it.]

There's never a win-win, is there?

[Panel twenty-two, a vertical rectangle. In the lower foreground and to the right, a gleeful H/TF bolt to the slight right of the camera, relishing both their escape and how unhappy their enemy is. In the background, Bruce restrains the armed henchman with a bolas while knocking the unarmed one out behind him with a backhanded blow. His cape billows with his rapid movement.]

At least the coin lets us be unpredictable!

[Panel twenty-three. Angle is essentially Bruce's POV. H/TF glance over their right shoulder, showing their unscarred features twisted in mockery, and sarcastically wave with their gun. They're just beyond the doorway.]

By the way, we're very good at getting two things done at once. You might wanna check your car.

[Panel twenty-four. Outside. Bruce's shadow falls from below the border diagonally over the Batmobile. Its tyres are slashed. Its fuel is leaking out into a puddle underneath it. In the next panel, we see him at eye height past the front end of the car. He has fallen to his knees, head hung.]

Bruce: Oracle? You were right. I need help.

[The black sheen of the Batmobile fades into a flat black background below. But then, within the darkness, floats a speech bubble.]

Barbara: You've already got it.

[Panel twenty-six. The first two sentences are in a bubble at the top, connected to the final sentence’s one dead in the middle. She's viewed from behind at a low angle looking up at her computer monitor. Her shoulders are assertively squared. Her security camera footage is split in two; Bruce and the crippled Batmobile are in the left window and H/TF's getaway car (also black on one side and white on the other) racing along a road in the right.]

We've been gathering intel. We know where Two-Face will strike next - and you know him as well as he knows you. Let's make a plan B.

Part 2

[Panel one. Distant establishing shot of a brightly lit black-tie gala in a vast, ornate hall, the tasteful decor dominated by white, light blues and silver. A caption informs us that this is 'The Cobblepot 'Charity' Gala'. Oswald Cobblepot is in the heart of the crowd, shaking hands with some official. Bruce Wayne is within earshot, but nearer the double doors. Panel two is a lower, tighter horizontal rectangle where Oswald and his guests are staring at the camera with tiny black dots for eyes in alarm at the doors slamming open. H/TF’s shadow falls over the floor. Panel three shows that Harvey and Two-Face have invited themselves, holding an assault rifle in both hands. Three smaller vertical panels on alternating sides of the screen show the doors being locked by pairs of Two-Face's minions in contrasting, complemetary outfits and wielding guns. The bird’s eye view of panel seven makes it clear that the guests are surrounded and trapped. Panel eight cuts back to H/TF.]

H/TF: Good evening, scum and enablers. We're -

[Panel nine takes us closer to focus on their - or rather, Harvey's - surprise.]

Harvey: Bruce? What are you doing here?

[Panel ten is a frontal shot of Bruce, like the camera's been reversed in the same position. His confusion is an act, but his concern is real.]

Bruce: I'm the richest man in Gotham and this is a high-society gala. What are you doing here?

[Panel eleven. Side shot that doesn’t show the scarring. Harvey lowers the gun, eyes softening as Bruce reaches out to him.]

I thought we agreed that you still needed treatment.

Harvey: I…

[Panel twelve. Frontal short. Remembering his mission, Harvey loses a degree of control and the two embittered alters lightly push Bruce away and point the gun straight ahead at Oswald with a glare. Motion lines trail from their arm.]

H/TF: That doesn’t matter! What matters is taking down the Penguin!

[Panel thirteen. Oswald presses a hand to his chest, somehow at once mortified and supercilious. You can hear the melodramatic sad violin. Beside him, his associates are cowering and aghast.]

Oswald: Why, everyone knows that I’m reformed. Attacking me when I’m doing good just proves how far you’ve fallen.

[Panel fourteen. H/TF snap at him furiously, and their speech bubble is large, spiky (still with the different texturing) and has a red outline for emphasis. Their eyes are stylized as flames; their right eye’s flame is orange and the left’s blue. Bruce is giving Oswald an intense sidelong glare. His lettering is smaller and his bubble's outline dashed to indicate that he's speaking under his breath.]

H/TF: SHUT UP!

Bruce: Shut up.

[Panel fifteen. Wide low angle shot up into the shadowy rafters. Damian, Dick and Tim are hiding in their vigilante identities and watching the scene below intently, at the ready. Their speech bubbles are dashed as they’re whispering. Damian is tense like a coiled spring, hand is on the hilt of his sword. Dick’s facial expression is blatantly disdainful of the villain in question, but his position and body language are calmer. Tim is all business.]

Damian: Shouldn’t we -

Tim: Not until the signal, remember? We don’t want to escalate and endanger the civilians.

[Panel sixteen. Close-up profile shot of Dick.]

Dick: Yeah, I hate Two-Face, but Bruce has got through to Harvey before.

[Panel seventeen. H/TF aim their gun with their right hand as their left reaches into their pocket to take out their coin. Their jaw is tight in composed ire. Diagonal angle to show Bruce on their right, overlaid by the gun. HT/F's speech bubble is near their head, but Harvey's is under the panel-dividing horizontal line of the gun.]

H/TF: You have the right to remain silent, forever.

Harvey: Bruce, get out of here.

[Panel eighteen, a square. Bruce is alone in the frame. He folds his arms, Batman's stern, steely presence creeping into his expression and posture.]

Bruce: Whatever you're willing to do to those people, you can do to me.

[Panel ninteen. Same composition with H/TF. They frown, the unscarred features looking regretful while the scarred ones look annoyed and disdainful.]

H/TF: Fine. Just stay out of our way.

[Panel twenty. Close up as they flip their coin. We get the blurring motion displaying both sides again. The next panel is a repeat shot where Bruce’s right hand snatches the coin in midair.]

H/TF: HEY! Give it back!

[Panel twenty-one. Extreme close-up, narrow horizontal parallelogram focused on Bruce's defiant stare. His speech bubble floats close underneath.]

Bruce: No.

[Panel twenty-two. He holds the coin out of reach. The camera is angled over and to the side of Bruce's left shoulder, to put as much visual distance between his outstretched right hand and H/TF as possible, Bruce's body in between them. H/TF’s left hand is balled into fist around the lowered gun while their right gestures like they’re arguing a case in a courtroom. They look resentful, but also coldly resigned. The speech bubbles can extend out of the panel. In the backgroud, some of the guests are depicted as simplified, featureless figures.]

H/TF: They aren’t worth sticking your neck out for. Nobody in Gotham is -

Harvey: I learned that the hard way.

Bruce: And I’ve learned otherwise. This won’t make things better, Harvey.

[Panel twenty-three. Two-Face fixes the gun on Bruce with a sadistic, unhinged snarl that’s distinctly his own.]

Two-Face: Listen, Wayne, I don’t care for you a bit. Give us our coin back or I’ll -

[Panel twenty-four. Bruce raises an eyebrow.]

Bruce: But what if it’s good heads?

[Panel twenty-five. Two-Face freezes. A ‘Twitch’ sound effect is at the corner of his right eye. Panel twenty-seven. A henchman aims his own gun with nervous eagerness.]

Henchman: I'll get your coin for you, boss!

[Panel twenty-six. The vigilantes leap down from the rafters. Dick's already thrown a Wingding to disarm him that flies downward rotating and seems to cut the shape of the panel, which has a tapering lower end.]

Dick: No!

[Large red 'BANG!' sound effect between panels. Panel twenty-seven is a small box in the middle of the screen showing the Wingding knocking the smoking gun away a split-second too late. Panel twenty-eight. Bruce and Harvey in the background and the bullet in the foreground are centred. Harvey slams into Bruce and knocks him down with his full weight, briefly putting himself in the path of the bullet.]

Harvey: Bruce!

[Panel twenty-nine. Long, vertical rectangle panning down from above the vigilantes standing in dramatic heroic landing poses at the top of the frame, wearing varyingly emotive expressions of shock, to Bruce lying propped up by his elbow and Harvey on his hands and knees at the bottom. The discarded assault rifle hits the floor between Harvey and the vigilantes with a 'Clatter' sound effect in yellow, uneven text. The coin slips out of Bruce's hand with a motion line to rest between him and Harvey. Panel thirty. Angle at eye level with Bruce and Harvey. Bruce sits up. He stares at Harvey with shining eyes and the beginnings of a smile as he processes what just happened, and what didn’t precede it.]

Bruce: You saved my life.

[Panel thirty-one. Angle is behind Bruce’s head. Harvey avoids eye contact, showing Bruce his unscarred profile. He’s solemn and though he too has a relieved hint of a smile, it doesn’t reach his eyes.]

Harvey: You never stop trying to save me. It was the least I could do.

[Panel thirty-two. Harvey’s POV. Low angle, tilted up at Bruce on his feet, offering his hand to help him up. We can tell that it’s Harvey’s perspective with both eyes because the left half of the image is dim and blurry due to the damage the acid did to his left eye. The speech bubbles are exclusively on the right.]

Bruce: It isn’t too late, Harvey. You can still heal. You can get better, be better.

[Panel thirty-three. Close-up on the right half of Harvey’s face, a narrow vertical box in the upper left section of the screen. His expression is of tentative, wary hope and raw vulnerability. He has wanted to end his crusade throughout its duration, but never been able to. Panel thirty-four. A bigger square containing his entire face and taking up the rest of the screen.]

Harvey: Do you really believe that?

[Panel thirty-five. Side shot that now only shows the side shot of Harvey’s face. Bruce kneels down be closer to eye level with him.]

Bruce: Yes. Always, I’ve been where you are. Feeling like you can never be more than all your pain and anger. But if you want a second opinion, I think you’re a better person than you know.

[Panel thirty-four. A square in the middle of the screen. Harvey’s right hand reaches out to Bruce’s waiting one, but lingers, tense and trembling, above the coin. Panel thirty-five. Vertical rectangle. Harvey shrinks in on himself, hunched over with his face buried in his arms and hands clutching his hair; perhaps he doesn’t trust himself not to pick up the coin and give Two-Face a means to make harmful decisions, just can’t make another choice of his own or both. Around him blackness with spiky, scribbled inner edges consume the screen like reality is fracturing or dissolving, or some all-consuming destructive force is coming for him.]

Harvey: Just… just take us to Arkham. We deserve it. We need help.

[The black extends, replacing the white background. But then, within the darkness, floats a speech bubble.]

Bruce: You’ve already got it.

[Fade into panel thirty-six. Horizontal rectangle. Distant, high angle. The black lightens to purple and becomes the night sky, which is warming to pink at the first moment of dawn. Harvey is handcuffed, about to enter a police car on his right. A cop is escorting him. However, Bruce has his left arm around his shoulders and they’re both in relatively good moods, similar to how they were in the flashback.]

Harvey: When did you get so optimistic, Mr Gothic McBrooding?

Bruce: Someone has to be. And hey, I had a good teacher.

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP Meme from Oliver & Company

Now, it's always once upon a time in New York City.

It's a big old bad old tough old town.

Let me have one, please.

Right away, you're making time and making friends

If they pick you out, you're on your way.

Get out there and go and try.

Why does nightfall find you feelin' so alone?

Dreaming is still how the strong survive

Keep your dream alive.

Got to look out and open your eyes,

You're in the fast lane

What's the matter with you? I said get outta here.

I don't eat cats. It's too much fur.

I've been watching you, and I think you're in serious need of some professional guidance.

I'm an expert at these things.

All you gotta do is learn some moves.

This city's got a beat.

When are we gonna get those hot dogs?

I hate to break it to ya, but the dynamic duo is now the dynamic uno.

Our partnership is herewith dissolved.

You're not being fair!

Fairs are for tourists, kid.

Consider it a free lesson in street savoir faire

Hey, wait! I helped you get those! Half of those are mine!

Why should I worry? Why should I care?

I got street savoir faire

You can wear the crown!

Everything goes.

Everything fits.

They love me at the Chelsea, they adore me at the Ritz!

Stop that racket! I'm trying to watch this show.

Shut up, you little rodent.

Come on, let's watch some boxing. I wanna see some action

You think this place is big enough?

What we need is some good quality stuff

Oh, shredded leather.

You insulted my pride! That means death!

It was your turn to get the food today!

You remain our preeminent benefactor.

It was tough. Only I could have done it.

I love a story with food in it.

Enter the opposition.

Gang war! Gang war! Watch out! Here comes a gang war!

Take cover!

It's just a cat.

I followed this dog.

He's lying! He's lying! He's lying! He's lying!

Oh, boy! Dog pile!

Don't let me down!

What do you got?

Let's see what you got.

I was just on my way out.

Actually, I've got something much better than money.

Some luxury items that should make a considerable dent in my debt to you.

Oh, my! You waxed your car, didn't you? Did they use the buffer on it, because I can see myself.

I don't think you grasp the severity of the situation.

Now, I lent you money and I don't see it.

People like you get hurt.

I can't figure out why you'd rather hang around a dump like this when you could be living uptown with a class act like myself.

Isn't it rather dangerous to use one's entire vocabulary in a single sentence?

You bad, man.

Hey, you got something to say to me, fat boy?

Why don't you pick on someone your own size?

Oh, I'm having a bad day!

I like cats. I like to eat 'em.

Your master's calling.

Come on and say it to my face!

How am I ever gonna come up with all that money?

It's hopeless.

That took a lot of guts.

All right. Time for bed. We've got a big day tomorrow.

We've got two days to do or die.

You got a lot to learn. And if you don't learn, you don't eat!

But if you're tough, and always use your head, you'll be right at home, on the street.

When you got talent, everything is free.

You're gonna see how the best survive.

These are streets of gold.

You'll take the town, and you'll take it with style.

You're in charge of electronics.

Hey, but what about me? What do I do?

Ready? Go!

What have I done? Poor thing.

You oughta be ashamed of yourself!

Run along, little fellow. Go on, now. Shoo.

Be a lookout.

I only got one more wire, okay?

Oh, you poor kitty. Here. Let me help you.

Where's the kid?

We can't just take in a stray off the street.

Don't worry, kitty. I'll take care of you.

Your public awaits.

Girl, we've got work to do

Pass me the paint and glue.

Perfect isn't easy

When one knows the world is watching, one does what one must.

See how the breeding shows

Sometimes it's too much for even me!

But when all the world says "Yes", then, who am I to say "no"?

Don't ask a mutt to strut like a showgirl

Perfection becomes me, ne c'est pas?

I'm beauty unleashed!

So classic and classy

They're barking up the wrong tree!

I have your hearts, and you have my pity

Pretty is nice, but still it's just pretty!

I wouldn't go in there if I were you.

What is the meaning of this?

I guess I'll have to handle this myself.

And do you have any idea whose home this is?

Isn't he cute?

What in Heaven's name are we waiting for?

Alas, our beleaguered benefactor bearing the brunt of our futile endeavours.

Cool it!

Our mission begins at daybreak.

I don't hear any practicing.

Oh, you wanna practice too!

We two can be good company.

You and me, just wait and see.

I'll handle that ruffian.

Body slam! Body slam! Oh, come on, you fool! Hit him! Hit him!

Come back here!

Huh, this place looks pretty nice. I mean, how bad off could it be here?

Chagall. Matisse. These are all masterpieces.

Hey, man, if this is torture, chain me to the wall.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down.

Don't come any closer! I knew this would happen one day.

It's not you I'm after.

Not good enough for you?

I mean, do you even know who I am?

GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU LITTLE BUG-EYED CREEP!

Something's not quite right here.

Shh. Quick. Before he comes back. Follow me.

I mean, let's just forget the whole thing.

No, no, you can't do that! You don't understand. The poor dear's so traumatized.

What is going on here?

Hurry. Use the fire escape.

Ooh, I could've danced all night! I could've danced all night!

You were very good.

I was rather good, wasn't I?

You okay, kid?

I have another home now. And someone who loves me.

You're in the gang.

I just wanna go back.

You wanna leave? Fine! There's the door.

You lighten up!

Oh, it's hopeless.

Looks like you're doing all right for yourself

So that's where you've been!

Feel it. That's it. Very good.

This is an airtight plan

I'll even toss in a little extra for your patience.

It's my final offer. Take it or leave it.

I said, push!

No, you don't kill 'im yet.

Did we bring something green and wrinkly to make me happy?

I'm getting your money tonight! It's coming tonight!

Hey, I think there's hope for you yet.

Yeah, you're starting to think big.

It's creepy down here.

I drew a perfectly good map.

A child could read that map.

I didn't do it! I didn't do it! I was framed!

This is a tough neighborhood. You'd better go home.

I came to find my kitty.

You brought a piggy bank.

What kind of a person would steal a poor little kitty?

I'm so scared. I don't know what to do.

I found a little lost kitten.

No! No, wait! You can't do this!

Keep your mouth shut.

Stop! Stop! Time out!

There's gotta be some way in.

Peasants.

Well, it's nice to see that one of you has some manners.

After you, my little croissant

And remember, quiet.

Oh! I broke a nail.

Oh, balderdash.

Freeze!

I don't think you really appreciate the situation. Somebody could get hurt.

You smell that?

It's party time!

Where are those dogs?

I thought I'd never see you again.

What's the occasion? Come to rescue your little friend?

All right! What a woman!

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it's off to work we go

This has all been very entertaining. But the party is over.

Hey, man, you're ugly!

Aah! Save me!

Hey, get off my back, woman! I'm driving!

All right, anybody want some cake?

Murder him! Twist his arm!

The gifts were great.

We'll start with a bath.

You know, you're not so bad for a bug-eyed little creep.

You come back here this minute!

Tell me why should I care

What a delightful scoundrel.

[saladejin]

Call An Uber? | 09

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader | Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut

Summary: Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right?

What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.4k

< masterpost >

»»————- <<prev | next >> ————-««

  “Uh, no you don’t.”

I gasped when the phone was suddenly plucked from my hands. It had been a struggle to find a close-by Uber service, but one had honestly just popped up!

“Bang PD-nim?”

The older man chuckled and returned the phone to my trembling hands. When had he even appeared next to me? He was dressed so casually that I had to look twice to make sure it was even him. 

“I can drop you home for a lot less, trust me (Y/n).” He laughed again, and it was obvious I had no choice but to follow him speechlessly. A week or so ago, this would have appeared as quite strange and inappropriate to many people, but I knew the stout CEO well enough now to place my trust in him.

“T-thank you so much, you really don’t have to…” I spluttered and gawked when his expensive car came into view. The reason why he’d even come along to the concert was still unknown. Up until this point, I’d been under the impression he usually didn't get involved with the showy stage side of things, but even so, he had obviously come of his own accord.

“It’s fine. After everything you’ve done for us tonight, it’s the least I can do.” Bang PD sighed, and I knew he was thinking about Soojin’s brashness from earlier in the day.

“That’s completely okay, I really enjoyed myself tonight,” I said calmly, thinking hard about what I was about to suggest. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind helping out like this more often. If they ever need anyone, that is.”

Bang PD smirked at me, and I knew he was teasing at the underlying feelings I had for the members in particular. The fact that I was already missing them and it hadn’t even been an hour said quite enough. There was no denying that it did play a big role in my offer, but it wasn’t everything of course.

“I can think of a few reasons why, but unfortunately it’s not in your job description.”

I laughed and exhaled in slight disappointment, my shoulders sagging in defeat. “I know, it’s only if they need someone though.”

The car ride was silent for a few minutes, and we would be reaching my house soon after seeing how fast his flashy car zipped around the streets and backroads of Seoul.

“I have something serious to say to you, (Y/n).”

I immediately grew apprehensive at his tone. I mean who wouldn’t after hearing something like that? I picked at the leather seat underneath me and willed my eyes to not drift towards the scenery rocketing past the window. I needed to show him my full attention here.

“I came tonight for one reason only, and that was to monitor you.”

Back at it again with the bluntness it seemed. Classic Bang PD.

“Monitoring me? That sounds kind of sinister.” I pursed my lips and trained my gaze onto the man’s bespectacled face. He wasn’t looking back, but it wasn’t as if I expected him to while he was driving anyway. I was, on the contrary, glad to not be confronted with his piercing eyes, because the anxiety about the direction this conversation had taken would have surely consumed me whole.

“It’s not that bad,” he said while chuckling, “I just wanted to check up and see how you were doing, but you never saw me backstage. Heaven forbid Soojin-ssi actually informed you of anything properly. I had an opening in my schedule, and I hadn’t visited the concerts for a while.”

I shook my head and laughed along with him. He knew exactly of his assistant’s behaviour, and it seemed he definitely wasn’t the only one. This wasn’t the outcome I was expecting, but I felt appreciative of his caring nature, nonetheless.

“What I noticed…” he then drew out, and a sense of uneasiness fell onto us both.

“Was your relationship with Bangtan themselves.”

Now the hammer dropped. Horror lit up like a wildfire inside me, and I suddenly thought about all my interactions with the boys so far. Dazed eyes scanned the disappearing road in front of me as the cogs within my mind started breaking to pieces. A simple touch could be considered crossing the line with them. I was only a mere staff member, therefore I couldn’t expect anything more or less than simply that, but thinking about it now reminded me that I definitely had not been acting like it.

I must have gone too far. Hell, I literally hugged two of them tonight! That’s a recipe for scandal disaster right there, what the fuck (Y/n).

“I can see your brain working, please don’t overthink about what I just said,” Bang PD’s tone became louder as if trying to speak over the flurry of thoughts. I couldn’t help but swallow thickly and sat back into the plush car seat behind me. I rubbed the clamminess off my palms and steeled myself to hear whatever he had to say next.

“Sorry PD-nim, I know I’ve been…closer than I need to be, I guess.”

He suddenly let out a wheeze of a laugh, and I wished to open some kind of window into his mind just to understand what was happening. He took one glance at my furrowed brows and stifled another laugh.

“No way (Y/n), I wasn’t going to say it was a bad thing at all! Well, hear me out please. I want to be serious for a minute.”

I let out a bellowing sigh of relief and managed to let any amusement die down. If he wanted to be this serious, it meant that something extremely important needed to be understood.

“The boys are solely focused on their idol careers, so when it comes to hiring new staff we try to avoid potential ‘risks’, so to speak. It’s a precautionary thing, but – you don’t have to concern yourself with that notion, because you’ve managed to prove yourself again and again. (Y/n), you’ve been working with us for only a few weeks now, but you’ve only solidified my opinions.”

I was smiling now, because the man’s words were so heartfelt and honest. I wondered straight away if he was about to open up to me somehow. This didn’t usually happen, right? Or maybe it did, because he just liked being a boss that staff members could be comfortable and adaptable with.

“You have the best of intentions, I know this for sure, but that isn’t the problem,” he continued while gaining a more solemn tone, “The issue itself, is attachment.”

Another hammer, ah yes. I should have seen this one coming from a mile away.

“Now, I don’t have a problem with you and the boys getting along well. Many of the staff are close with them, and it’s not something out of the ordinary because there are so many faculty members that have been with us from the beginning. It’s only natural.”

When he turned to gauge my response from over the rim of his glasses, I found myself nodding in earnest understanding. I completely agreed with what he was saying, because there was no way you wouldn’t form a substantial bond with the very people who had helped you rise to the top. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what the man was trying to get at exactly, though.

“You-”

 He stopped and cleared his throat loudly, obviously racking his brain for the right words to use. It left me dumbfounded, because Bang PD had always come right out with whatever was on his mind. Sometimes it was a little too harsh, but most people valued his opinions and appreciated his level of honesty whether it hurt them or not. This industry did teach their employees to deal with no-nonsense attitudes.

“Not including the backstage crew at the venue, you have been one of the youngest staff members we’ve hired in a while.” He finally sighed, and my mind created the imaginary train tracks steering straight to the point.

“I’m not fearing the attachment you may develop if you continue to spend time with them, but I do fear things going awry or their focuses being taken away from their careers. Usually, I would remove you from the situation without question right away, but I saw you with them tonight-”

I flooded with sudden embarrassment when he looked upwards to think again, as that meant he had most likely seen the hugging too. There was a cold dread settling into my stomach at the thought of getting ‘removed’. That would mean the cost of my job and everything I had worked for so far. I would feel empty, because now that the boys were in my life, I didn’t want them to just vanish.

Oh God, why had I let myself get attached already??

“I understand, actually,” I murmured, “and it would probably be for the best if I didn’t see them as much.” I managed to force it out through half gritted teeth. It really did hurt me to say, but I could see that it was the best option. Who knew what hardships would come later if I continued the way I was going?

“That’s not what I’m saying, I said I saw you with them tonight, but I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” Bang PD started to slow down the car, and I knew we had finally reached the entrance to the carpark of my apartment building.

At his statement, I couldn’t help but feel confusion tickling the edges of my mind. The founder of Bighit shifted sideways in his seat to give me his full attention. Now, he could finally focus without having to divert his thoughts to not crashing and killing us both.

“They were nervous wrecks before the concert started. And I know this because I went in there just before you arrived to have a chat with them all. I could tell that Namjoon-ah would be just fine, and they all would’ve been in the end, but seeing the members like that is never comforting.”

I was fully enraptured by the man’s words, because I had never heard him speak with such a deep and sympathetic tone before. I speculated on when he had last talked to somebody like this.

“There wasn’t much I could do. I’ve supported them through the years, and they know they can always confide in me if they ever need to,” he continued while nodding forlornly. “But when it comes down to live events like these, there’s only so much I can say to help them out. And I'm rarely around as it is.”

The sudden silence urged me to convey my thoughts on the matter. “It’s nearly impossible to get rid of the nerves and doubts once they’re there anyway,” I spoke softly, eyes distant as I fiddled with my own hands uneasily. The atmosphere was more disconcerting than ever now that we had managed to find the time to stop and think.

“That’s what I thought too, but then you came in.” Bang PD chuckled and started tapping his fingers on his leather lined steering wheel to an imaginative rhythm.

“I literally watched as you made their tension disappear like it was nothing. Many people envy you when it comes to your ability to read a situation like that, because it was like you knew exactly what to do, and I’m sure they appreciated it more than you know.”

I almost choked at his sincerity. I hadn’t seriously done all that much, just held a small conversation before the show had commenced. It was only because one of the stylists had asked me to help out, otherwise I may not have even made contact at that time.

“Really? Thank you so much for saying that,” I dipped my head lightly, because I also wanted to hide the sudden spell of emotions from showing too much.

“Afterwards as well.” He sighed, and I watched him begin to smile with approval. “They were so happy, but you made them even happier in an instant. Jimin-ah too. Anyone who cared to watch could see it.”

At this point, I couldn’t help but laugh in a bizarre mixture of disbelief and amazement. Maybe I had just felt so ecstatic in their presence that I hadn’t even known their behaviour was changing too.

“This isn’t something they’ll likely admit, but I think I have an idea about how they’re feeling.” Bang PD cleared his throat. “You might just be the consolation they need, (Y/n). They have always had each other and their many supportive staff to help them find their footing, but I think you might be the key to keeping them there. To reassure them, using your viewpoint as a fan of sorts.”

He finally stopped to breathe, and my mind was churning once again at the revelation. He wasn’t even finished, and it seemed he had much left to say.

“You’re basically like a spokesperson. I know they wouldn’t have reason to doubt or disregard anything you have to say about them from their music choices to even their stage images. Min Yoongi came to talk with me the other day, telling me all about how he’d found a way to get over a certain stump in lyric writing.”

“Ah, that boy.” I muffled another chuckle and the softest of smirks made its way onto my features. I was honestly so happy to even think about being a positive influence in their lives, it made me glow from the inside out.

“It’s why I’ve made a decision,” Bang PD spoke again, and I recognised the familiar firmness to his tone that usually meant he was about to drop something big.

“Taking into account what I mentioned before about the attachment, I think it could actually help us out instead. As their presence worldwide grows, so will the pressure, and I want someone they’re comfortable with to be there for them as a support.”

“So, that’s me? What will happen? What am I going to have to do exactly?” I stammered, feeling considerably warmed and buzzed with excitement at the producer’s words. Everything he was declaring sounded like a wistful dream to me right now, but to say I also wasn’t feeling the pressure would be a lie.

“Nothing extravagant just yet.” He held up a hand while stifling a chuckle. “But it’s why I’ve decided to involve you in more activities.”

Okay, now the excitement was ready to detonate.

“And that’s why I’m asking you to go along with them on their next tour.” 

            Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.  

tagged: @l4life, @joyful-jimin, @gee-nee​, @m0chilattae​, @rossemayme​, @doilooklikeinoe​

[everlastingdreams]

John Constantine x Reader : Heaven And Hell Chapter 3

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Summary:  The reader has been travelling alone for a while now, running from her demons. When soon she finds herself dealing with real ones. At first she appears to be just a psychic, but as time passes John finds himself wondering if that is all she is. The rising darkness is coming closer everyday, what part does she come to play ?

Chapter summary: You’re now staying in the safest place you can think of, with the man who clearly knows his way around the things haunting you. John starts to realise that perhaps you are not just a psychic when they find a creative way to attack you. Can he reach you in time before they get their claws in you ?

Notes: I really hope you like this chapter. Let me know and feel free to reblog.

Chapter: 3/?

Word count: 4056 words

You spend most of the day getting settled in the Mill House. John showed you around and most importantly he showed you what not to touch or where not to go.

There was so much to see in this place and more then once John had to take a book out of your hands while informing you that you weren't ready for those.

Chas came back when it got dark outside, he had brought take-out for the three of you. You talked a bit to him and learned that he and John had been friends for a long time.

Chas was the first to excuse himself as he went back to his room to sleep.

You sat at the table when you realised John was staring at you.

“What ?” you looked at him a brow raised.

His eyes stayed fixed on you before they went lower then your face.

You unconsciously touched your pendant as you waited for him to speak.

His eyes narrowed, now focusing on your hand before walking closer to you.

You looked up at him and he reached out to you.

“Can I see that for a second, luv ?” he looked at you for a second asking for permission.

You realised he was talking about your necklace and you nodded “Sure.”

He carefully held the pendant between his fingers and flipped it over a couple of times. Before letting go of it.

“Looks old. Where did you get it ?” he looked pensive.

You shrugged your shoulders “Somebody gave it to me when I was a kid. I guess it's my weird lucky charm or something.”

“It looks familiar..Some of it seems to have worn off, it's hard to see the engraving.” he shrugged his shoulders after a moment and you yawned.

A laugh escaped him “I'm guessing you didn't get much sleep recently ?”

You scoffed at that “I guess demons cause insomnia.” it was meant as a joke but both of you knew exactly what it was like dealing with this stuff.

“You're safe here, y/n. Nothing's getting inside of this place.” he reasurred you.

A small smile played on your lips “Thank you, John. For all of it.”

He squeezed your hand “No need to thank me. You should get some sleep. If you want to tag along you need a clear head.”

“You're right.” standing up to go to the room that John had prepared for you “Goodnight, John.”

“'Night, luv. Gimme a shout if you need anything.” he winked at you and you smiled and shook your head at his horrible flirting.

The room was small and there were some boxes that were just tossed aside to make space, but you were still happy to be here. You felt safe and it didn't take long to fall asleep this time.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Not long after you went to your room John went to his as well and fell asleep soon after. It just past midnight when he woke again. A sound inside the mill house had woken him, it took a few seconds for him to realise what it was and then he sat up instantly, swinging his legs out of bed in one go.

He listened, focused on the noise.

It can't be ? Could it ?

The awful, familiar noise was faint but he knew what it was.

The place was secure, no way that it was possible the demons could enter the mill house. Not with all the spells and traps he had set up to prevent it. Yet still, here he was, walking through the place sensing them. Sensing them as they moved. He froze in place for a moment. The air around him was cold. But the thing that shocked him was that he could feel a breeze, as if he was outside. He could smell the fumes of cars and hear the rustling of leaves. Then the smell of sulfur. He drew a sharp breath before he sprinted towards the room you were in and didn't bother knocking. The sound of the door flying open in your room did not wake you and he moved to you fast. He shook your form to wake you, to pull you from whatever trick of hell was happening to you. "Y/N !!!! Y/N !!!! " he shook you desperately to try and wake you up "Come on, luv, you've gotta wake up !" Chas bursted into the room as well having woken from the commotion "John ! What the hell is going on ?!" John stopped shaking you and tried a spell to wake you up. He chanted the words over and over again, but he could feel something blocking his magic. "DAMNIT !" He exclaimed desperately. Chas stepped closer "JOHN !" This time John looked at Chas "I can't wake her.." He walked out of the room and his friend followed him as he picked up some candles and other materials not even his friend could name. "What do you mean ?" Chas inquired as John pushed some of the items in his hands to carry. "I don't know how it's possible but I sensed demons in this place, their stence woke me right up." John pushed another book in Chas's hands as he grabbed what looked like a bottle of blood from a shelf before walking back to the room you were in. Chas's eyes widened in shock "Demons ?! In here, in the Mill ? How is that even possible ? Nothing's ever come through here before." John placed the items down and moved quickly to prepare it all as he drew symbols on the ground around your bed before standing at the feet of it. He was already out of breath as the adrenaline rushed through him "Because they didn't come through the Mill, mate." John watched you as he spoke "It's her." Chas's eyes darted to you, and he was now starting to feel the breeze as well "Are you saying she brought them in here ?" "Yes." John swallowed, he couldn't believe it himself. Whatever was happening inside your 'dream' was leaking into this reality. The car fumes, the sound of leaves, the breeze.. all of it. "They'll come for her. I have to get to her before they do." He explained before drawing a circle around himself on the floor with the blood from the vail. "Someone's preventing me from waking her up." "Demons ?" Chas asked as he handed him the book. John clicked his tongue and shook his head "Whoever is doing this is no demon. Not powerfull enough. But it's her they're after." Chas took a few steps back when John waved at him to do so "Why her ? She's just a psychic." John looked up "I'm not so sure of that. Can you feel that ?" "The breeze ?" Chas nodded. John nodded as well "Wherever she is in the dreamworld, I bet it's windy. And it's where those demons are." "So... this dreamworld is just another reality leaking into ours ?" John nodded again as he sat down on the ground cross legged and rolled up his sleeves. "Exactly, a reality build by her subconcious. Pretty much a lucid dream, but one where if you die, you actually die in reality." "Jesus christ." Chas let out a breath and scratched his neck "If they catch her there..." John pushed away the thought of what would happen if they got to you before he did "I'm going to get her out of there. If something goes wrong.." "I know what to do." Chas gave him a reasurring look. John closed his eyes and started to chant the words from the book.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A cool breeze brushed against you. Leaves rustled in the trees letting some moonlight pass between them. You were standing on an abandoned street. All there was were houses, it looked like any friendly neighbourhood but you knew that wasn't what this was. You knew this was a dream. You recognised the feeling. But something was wrong. You have had many lucid dreams before, but none like this. You could feel the cold air as you walked through the street. The only familiar thing was that it was night, as it always was when you dreamed like this. You walked towards a house and tried to open the door, it didn't even budge. And that's when you knew that even though you knew you were dreaming, you were not in control of it. You swallowed hard, this hadn't happened before. You walked to another house and tried to open the door, nothing. A door creaked on the other side of the street, and when you turned around you saw that a door was open. Your breath quickened and you tried to calm yourself down whilst you walked towards it. Looking up, you saw a light on one the first floor through the window. Something was drawing you to it. As you walked inside you noted how much darker it was in here then in the dark street outside. The stairs were right in front of you and you went up to the first floor.

A door was creaked open at the end of the hallway, a dim light escaping the room.

It's still just a dream.

You tried to reasure yourself before walking towards it.

You pushed the door open a little and found a man standing inside. Well dressed, and a youthfull appearance. But your instinct told you that there was something sinister about this man..no.. not a man.

The man smiled at you and a chill ran down your spine, his eyes did not display the same emotion. In fact, the way he looked at you made your stomach turn. Something inside of you tells you that if you were to run, he would surely chase you. Something you truly hated in nightmares.

You swallowed hard “Who are you ?”

His tilted his head to the side to the point that you could hear his neck crack “We've been expecting you, y/n.”

The man stared at you, never blinking, not even once.

You didn't step further inside the room, staying in the doorway “Why ?”

“To retrieve you.” he stated it as if it was something obvious to everyone.

You wanted to take a step back but he was looking at you so intensly that you feared it might cause him to make a move of his own “I don't understand. What do you want from me ?”

He stretched out his hand and his fingers started to tick on the table that stood between you and him “You are important. You will be retrieved to serve your purpose.” his fingers stopped ticking against the wood instantly. He made it sound like you were a golden pig up for slaughter.

You never moved your eyes away from him, wondering what you would do in case he would move “Important how ? What purpose do I have ?!” you snarled at him.

He didn't answer your question “Oh y/n, if only you knew. Fire will rain upon the world and we will have you to thank for that.”

His words hit you hard, but you tried not to show it. Was this the truth ? You always felt like you were cursed with this gift, maybe this was never a gift. Maybe this was indeed a curse. But one thing was for sure, you would do everything to prevent this from happening.

“I don't know who the hell you work for, or what crazy cult you're into. But let me be clear, asshole.  I'm not going to serve your purpose. I ain't going anywhere with you.”

The corner of his mouth twitched “I'm afraid that you are no match against what is coming for you.”

“Who the hell are you ?! What is coming ?!” you snapped at him.

His eyes changed right then and there, they turned completely black.

“You cannot hide from us. We are always with you.” his voice was deep, so much deeper then it had been this entire time.

Both fear and anger were clawing at you “Who the fuck is we ?!”

“We are legion !” The words came out of his mouth, but it sounded like multiple deep voices all at once flowed through it.

The sound of scratching along the walls towards you was what made you bolt out of the room, you ran as quick as you could. It was as if the deep voices followed you all the way until you got outside and slammed that door shut.

The words echoed in the air as you backed away from the house.Then you heard the sizzeling of electricty. You looked up and saw the street light above you starting to flicker.

This wasn't good. Not good at all. The feeling of dread crept up on you, you looked further down the street and saw the street lights flickering out one by one. Bringing darkness closer to you everytime one went out. It's okay.

You told yourself, but deep down you didn't believe it. Just walk the other way you thought, just a nightmare. Soon you'll be in control of this dream. You turned the other direction but the lights started to flicker out over there as well. Darkness was starting to close in now. You stepped backwards, closer to a house that had lights on the porch. Breathing erratic as the darkness came closer towards you, then you heard it. Wings. That's what you told yourself at least, but you didn't have to have your gift to figure out that it wasn't cute little birds approaching. Your back hit the door of the house and you tried to open it without looking as you kept your eyes in front of you. The door didn't budge and you cursed under your breath. The lights continued to flicker out, leaving only the street lights a few feet in front of you on, and the porch light. If there had been any doubt in your mind that this was just a nightmare, it was gone now. You were not in control this time, but who was ? Or worse, what was ? The rustling of wings was loud now and the last street lights went out now. You held your breath, there was no escape and whatever was coming, you were no match for it. You wished John was here, he would know what to do. The porch lights began to flicker. You made yourself small and covered your head with your arms, as closed your eyes. The lights dimned out and you were shaking in fear.

*CLICK*

The sound made your eyes snap open again. You'd recognise that annoying sound everywhere. It was so dark that you couldn't see a thing. Pitch black. "John ? " you looked in the direction of the sound. A combustion of fire right in front of you made you snap your eyes shut again at the brightness of it. You covered your head again as you heard loud shrill shreiking and rustling of wings. It was gone within seconds. The street lights went on again as if nothing had happened. "Ah bollocks !" John cursed as he shook his hand. Your eyes snapped open and you looked up at him "John ?!" You couldn't believe it, he was here ?! He looked at you on the ground, a mixture of pain and relief in his eyes when he saw you. In two steps he was kneeling in front of you. Cupping your face and checking for any damage "Alright there, luv ?" You nodded and your eyes got watery, you placed a hand on his cheek. Still not being able to believe he was here and had just saved you. You threw your arms around him, hugging him so thightly as if he was your lifeline. He responded immediately, wrapping an arm around you and placing a hand on the back of your head as you quietly sobbed "It's alright, they're gone." He stroked your hair "I'm here. I've got ya." You leaned back to look at him "What was that ?" shaking your head "What is this place ?" He kept his hands on your arms "Some lower class demons. I got rid of 'em." John looked around "We're in another version of the dreamworld, if we die here, we die in our reality as well. Someone's using your subconcious, testing you." You noticed the serious look on his face "Who's testing me for what ?" He sighed deeply "Someone with a lot of skill or something that ain't human." He stood up and helped you off of the ground "Think someone's testing your powers. I tried to get to you earlier but something was blocking me getting to ya." You looked at the now lighted street "So this is a dream.. like a lucid dream ?" He gave a reluctant nod "Sort of, only someone's manipulating this version. We're just puppets in a theater now." You narrowed your eyes and poked him in the chest "But you're really here right ?" John grinned "That's right. It aint your imagination that's taking a leap." You rolled your eyes "Can we focus on getting out of here ?" He let out a chuckle and took a few steps until he was standing in the middle of the street "Just one of us should." You raised a brow at him "What does that mean ?" A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He looked so pleased with himself. "This might be another version but this is still your dreamworld, you created all of this." He pointed a finger up and twirled it around "You lost control of this dream, or better, something made you lose control of it. And is now using it against you." You stepped onto the street as well "I rarely lose control when I have a lucid dream. That's how I knew something wasn't right." You let out a heavy breath "It happened maybe three times in my life." "And what made you lose control in your lucid dreams?" He asked you, eyes scanning your features. Then it clicked in you "Fear. It was when I let my fear get to me. I always lost control of what happened in my dreams then." John thought for a second as he worked with the information "And when you lost control, did you ever regain it ?" You quickly nodded "Yeah. I did." "How, luv ?" He knew that the information you shared now could be the way out of this thing for you both. "It was when I saw someone in my dreams that made me feel safe.." your voice became quiet... Now you realised why John had been able to get to you in this dreamworld. He was the only person you had left. The only one that made you feel safe. You wanted him to be here because you knew he would know what to do. You wanting him here in the dream was the necessary bridge for him to get to you. You looked at him shyly and you knew he knew. "Couldn't have gotten to ya in time if you didn't want me here.." he spoke quietly "That's what was blocking me." He let out a laugh and took a few paces "You're still in control of this place. No one comes in unless you want them to. The minute you thought about having me here.." he snaps his fingers "Right on time to send those bastards back to hell." You crossed your arms over your chest "If I can control who comes in, why are there demons here ?" John looked at you warily "That's the big question. Could be send by the one causing this. Or there's something about you that i'm still in the dark about." "You think they got here because of me ?" You narrowed your eyes, tone defensive. "All i'm saying is that it shouldn't be possible. Them attacking you like this.." he shook his head and rubbed a hand through his hair "There is something about you that's drawing them in." He looked at you now as if he was trying to solve a really hard 'Where's Waldo' page. Then the lights flickered again, both you and John glanced up right away. "Time to get out of 'ere." He grabbed you and made you stand in the middle of the street. He stood behind you and held your shoulders "Listen, lass. Whatever's doing this is powerfull. It will toss all kinds of horrors to us unless we get out of here." Panic took over and you wanted to get off the street "I don't know how to get out of here !" He squeezed your arms "Yes you do, y/n. This place, this world, you build it. It's yours, it's every inch is build from your imagination." The lights started to go out again and you didn't have to look behind you to know that it was the case there as well. You could feel John getting nervous. He leaned close to your ear "You were strong enough to bring me here. Now let's get us home, luv." He was right, you did bring him from reality to this place. This world you had build inside your dreams. As you glanced at the houses, they slowly became familiar to you again. Houses you had once visited, inhabited by lovely people. Not the houses this darkness was making them look like. No. These were fragments of your memories of places you loved, tainted by whatever was manipulating this dream. The darkness came closer quickly, but now you just knew that there was something different inside of it. You could feel it. You took John's hand in yours before looking at him and smirking "Wanna get out of here ?" It sounded like something you would say to him in a bar, not in a life threatening nightmare world. He grinned widely "Love to." You focused on the darkness and you could feel the control return to you. You were not alone in this. You stepped closer to whatever it was in the darkness, John tensed when he saw you nearing it. Trying to stop himself from interfering and maybe causing you to lose your newfound faith in yourself. "This place is mine. Here I am a god. And you, you've overstayed your welcome !" You directed your words to the nearing darkness, and then you barely had to focus to make the lights come back to life, one by one. You walked towards it as it disappeared "This is my world. Basically, I rule." The last lights flickered on. It was still night, but now the whole atmosphere felt different. This was yours. All of it. Whoever tried to take it from you had failed. You were safe here and it was because of John reminding you of your own strength. Footsteps got louder as John stopped next to you. You looked at him and could see that he looked baffled "Impressed ?" He gave a neutral nod, before breaking out into a smile. Failing at looking unimpressed "Not bad. I've got a friend who can control worlds like this as well, but he practised for a very long time. You're a born natural." You hummed and looked around one last time "It looks so beautiful now." "It does." John agreed, appreciating the soft warm lights emiting from the houses. "Tell me. Lucid dreamers often have a trick to get in and out of the dreamworld. What's yours ?" You smiled warmly and tilted your head in the direction of a house before walking over. John followed you and you stopped in front of the door. "Ah the classic doorway one. Door opens and you just step in or out." He said approvingly. "Ever since I was little, the doors were really the entrances." You confessed and held up your hand to him. He wrapped his hand in yours thightly "See you there." He winked at you and you didn't let go off his hand when you were able to open the door this time. One step and you were through.

Reply to the post if you want me to add you to the taglist for this series. And feel free to let me know if you want to be removed from my taglist as well offcourse.

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[sirsharp-a]

My Conscience is Clean. ❜

Summary:  Edgar can be an idiot but God was a bigger one this time around. Warnings:  Brief mentions of abuse/sexual assault, though nothing in detail Parts:  Part 1  |  Part 2  |  Part 3  |  Part 4 ( here! )  |

    His grief was insurmountable.

    “I trust you have made your peace with the end,”   Raku said as tentatively as he could, small form gradually sinking until he could sit next to Edgar at the edge of No Man’s Bluff.  The ground was cold.  The moon, round and full, gave off a ghostly glow.  Their silhouettes looked borderline comedic beside one another, one tall and distinctive while the other was a short stubby mass.

    The lye was silent for a while, black eyes affixed on the abyss in front of him.  To him, it was like staring into a mirror.  In a voice filled with vitriol:   “... rest assured, there will be no peace.”

    I will linger in the void as a ghost.                                My spite will blacken your name, enter your blood as venom.

    “Edgar…”   The deity sighed, eyes closing tiredly.   “This is the best way forward.  You know that I do not want to do this.”

    “I don’t want to hear it,”   he spat.  In the moment, his words were more poisonous than he was.   “Just get this over with.  There is nothing I can do.  Screaming and crying about it will only make me look weaker.  I am not weak.”

    The last thing he wanted to do was sit there and accept it, but he knew deep down that there was truly no way to avoid this outcome.  The God had already made up his mind, and he was powerless to stop the chain of events that would ultimately result in his demise.  He had spent millennia outfoxing the smartest of people:  white collar criminals who had the money to buy their freedom whenever they screwed up;  threatening organised gang units who didn’t fear the law; other lyes that were, at least on surface level, ‘more’ than he was.  This, though…  this was a fight that he could not win.  There was no element of chess, no wit to be challenged  -  there was fate, and there was a cold chasm, and that was that.

                                                                                                    Grace…

    Every time her name resurfaced in his brain, his heart began to ache all over again.  It hadn’t stopped since their last night together, her touch both soothing and scalding as he revelled in its undeniable purity, but thinking of her made it hurt more.  Though he tried ever so hard not to, he couldn’t help but yearn for her.

    How could I let myself fall in love again?     How could I let my feelings be returned?     How could I even think about leaving her behind?

                                                                     There has to be  SOMETHING  I can do--                                                                                       -- there’s  nothing  I can do.

    An ear twitched as his maker’s voice drew him back to the present.  He found Raku floating in front of him, held aloft by unbridled power, short black legs slightly bent as he relaxed above the open pit as if suspended by string cast down from the Heavens.   “... pardon?”

    “Kneel,”   he repeated, gesturing to the ground with his head.  

    After a moment of hesitation, Edgar realised that he was on his feet.  He didn’t remember getting up, nor did he recall having the strength to do so.  This entire thing has taken a toll on me.  I’m not weak but I feel it.  I feel so wrought with depression and anguish that I don’t want to move.  Every time I need to get up, there’s a great ache in my bones that won’t dissipate.

    Edgar shook his head.   “No.”

    He felt it then:  a steady pressure making a home on his shoulders.  It was light at first, though the longer he remained standing, the more harsh it became.  Eventually, he was trembling with the effort it took to remain upright, legs wobbling like jelly before a final barrage of metaphysical energy saw them giving out beneath him, knees hitting the cold rock formation beneath him with a dull thud.  A flush of shame coated the back of his neck, teeth bared in a furious snarl as he glared up at the deity.

    “I said kneel.”

    “Fuck what you said,”   Edgar growled, bile transforming into a tiny ball of molten venom. Without thinking, the lye spat it at the saviour, eyes flashing a menacing white as he did.  It shot a clean hole through the deity’s robe, material fizzling with raw energy, and the shocked sound that he made sent a bolt of pleasure through Edgar’s core.   “I won’t ask for forgiveness, even though my end is nigh.  I don’t require it.  My conscience is clean.”

    I’m not your bitch.  I’ll never  be  your bitch.                                     You may take my life but you will never take my rage.

    He zoned out again.  Even when the God glowed a bright white light that hurt his eyes, he remained unresponsive, refusing to give him even an ounce more of his acknowledgement.  How dare you try to take what you didn’t help me to get?  You don’t deserve my tears, or my pleas, or my apologies.  I’ll never--

    “Stop!”

    -- stop, I’ll never stop, I’ll--

                                                                                       … stop?

    As Edgar’s head slowly inclined, he realised that Raku was no longer looking at him but off to the side, large blade seemingly crafted out of pure  light  held stationary above his head. Gradually, Edgar’s line of sight followed suit, landing on none other than Grace.  Could you feel my longing?  Is that what led you to me?

    Simultaneously:

                                   “Who are you?”                                    “Grace…”

    When she was close enough to the scene, her form shifted, golden hair and striking blue eyes replacing her animalistic visage as she skidded to a stop beside her lover.  Even on his knees, he was more than half of her height.

    “What’re you doing?”   the Alpha asked through clenched teeth, feeling a searing pain blooming in his chest.  Not only was it shameful to be seen in such a defeated position, he couldn’t bear to make her watch him die.  You seeing me take my final breath…  it will change you.

    “I read your stupid letter--”   she seethed, looking at him with such scorn that it burned. Though he opened his mouth to speak, she cut him off:   “How could you address that to me?!   You idiot--”

    “Grace--”

    “YOU IDIOT--”   She had a funny way of making him feel  grateful  for having his intelligence demeaned, but in this case it only wounded him.  It wasn’t even the insult to his pride that stung-- it was the  tears  welling up in her eyes, the strong woman that he knew crumbling at the seams. He couldn’t enjoy her misery in the same way that he could other peoples’.  Grace Adler in tears was a heart-breaking sight to behold, one that chewed at what little was left of his heart.  Please stop.  Please, please don’t cry.

    Grace sank to her knees in front of him, ignoring Raku completely, trembling hands reaching up to cup the sides of Edgar’s face.   “You can’t go.  You can’t.”   She fought against the gentle coil of his fingers around her wrists, refusing to allow him to guide her away from him.   “Y-You can’t confess your feelings to me and then just vanish…  y-you can’t do that, Eddie… please don’t do that to me…”

    “I don’t have a choice--”

    “You have a choice!”   Beneath it all, she knew that what he was saying was true.  She just didn’t want to  accept it.   He’s wonderful, powerful, smart as can be…  but that’s nothing to a God.  Bitterly, fingers lightly digging into his skin:   “I  won’t  forgive you if you do this to me.  I won’t.”

    The change in his face shattered her in two.  She witnessed the last little spark of hope in his eyes die, brows arching as he stared at her wordlessly, helplessly.  His dim gaze averted sullenly from hers, focused on the dead rock beneath him.  In a tight voice:   “...  I suppose that is what I deserve.”

    “Edgar…”

    Her ears swivelled the opposite way when she heard shifting behind her.

    “Grace…”   Despite his self-righteousness, Raku’s voice was soft.   “Please step aside.  Don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be.”

    “I refuse to leave him alone,”   she hissed, glaring daggers at him as soon as she’d turned her head.  Though she could feel Edgar’s hand pressing gently against her side, as if urging her away from him, she remained adamantly in place.  Teeth were bared in a defensive snarl, venom pooling at the corners of her mouth.   “I  WON’T  let you take him from me!”

    That seemed to startle the deity somewhat.  Slowly, his weapon was lowered to his side, glowing blade matching the pallid white of his robe.  The hole that Edgar had made was now gone, no evidence of his defiance left behind.

    “I understand that you’re angry...  but you don’t see the big picture, Grace,”   Raku began solemnly, stance now more open and patient.   “His continued existence is dangerous.  He is living on borrowed time.  He--”

    “I DON’T CARE.”   The woman stood up with a stomp of her feet, fiery indignation threatening to burn her alive.  Even in her fury, she knew that she was behaving rashly.  This was her creator…  her  maker;  the one she would answer to when all was said and done.  Nevertheless, her life was as good as over if she lost Edgar now.  It had been so long since she had been granted happiness;  whether his behaviour was birthed out of lust and a desire to meddle with her feelings or not, it didn’t matter.  The end result was something real;  something that, now that she’d felt it, she couldn’t live without.   “A-All of your excuses…  every single one of them, they’re not good enough for me.  CHOKE  ON  THEM!”

    As much as she resented it, she could feel herself getting emotional.  Her eyes burned;  her throat felt tight;  her heart ached so fiercely that she felt it would burst.  Arms wrapped around herself, squeezing her frame tight as she tried to resist the urge to scream--  to jump off of the edge of the bluff--  to hurl herself at her lord and saviour and send them  both  spiralling into the dark below.

    “It feels like you don’t see the big picture,”   she uttered ruefully, voice wobbling, nails digging into her arms as she shook.  Though Raku was barely over a foot tall, his effortless hover made her feel small in his wake, like an ant staring up at an incoming boot.   “If you did, you’d know that killing Edgar is just as dangerous.  It tells me that you don’t  UNDERSTAND  all that he’s done for so many people!  It shows me that you just want somebody to be the villain, and of course it would be a lye.”   She wasn’t stupid;  she knew that Edgar wasn’t perfect.  On the contrary, she knew all too well that he was a sadistic creature that longed only for his own entertainment…  but he had always been good to her.  To his creed.  To his friends. And, as far as she was concerned, they were the ones who mattered.   “Business…  all the people that needed help and he was there to offer them it--”

    “Through abusing his abilities--”

    “It doesn’t matter!”   Grace exclaimed fiercely, teeth grit tight.   “He was there, and he was honest.  Those people needed help and he gave them it.  He didn’t need to use his powers for that but he did.  He helped the weak.  The defenceless.  Those that were trapped in horrible situations and couldn’t do anything about it themselves.  Abuse victims. Homeless people.  Young children.  Poor people.  All people who were suffering the weight of this place.  The place that you made.”   She didn’t wait to see if Raku had opened his mouth to rebuke her, nor did she look behind her to discern whether Edgar approved of her running her mouth or not.   “They’ll all be out a hero.  And his creed…  they’ll be out a leader.  You made lyes, right?  You know what happens when they’re gone.”

    “...”

    “Aléjandro Murphy.  He told me all about the time that you revealed yourself to him and a handful of others.  He’s a huro you look up to very much because of the family that he belongs to;  he’ll be out a dear friend.  Deeana Braav, a woman who treated you with extreme kindness while you were busy hiding from war;  she will lose the man who killed her abusive ex, the man who freed her.  Ivan Mox, the one I call my brother, will lose a steady beacon of support.  Huron will be out one of the first inter-species establishments that has existed.  And I…”   She felt a sob slip past her lips, even in spite of how vehemently she was trying to hold it back.   “I’ll lose all that makes me happy.  Y-You’re God…  you know the life I’ve lived--”

    “I don’t know,”   Raku interjected.

    “Then let me educate you.”   I refuse to let you take control of this conversation.  When all is said and done, you have the last call anyway.  This is the last and only chance, and I intend to take it.   “I was taken advantage of.  I was beaten and battered by my first Alpha;  raped and bred by my second.  It’s funny to me that the Alpha you want to kill off is the one that gave me everything.  Even when I was rude to him.  Even when I bared my teeth and insulted him.  Even after I acted like a little brat, because I didn’t know h-how to--  h-how--”   She paused to sniffle, furiously wiping at her eyes.  Don’t start crying now.  Don’t you  dare  lose it now.   “... h-how to deal with my--  deal with all that I’d been forced to live through…  a-and endure…  and he was  STILL  THERE.”   She’d long since learned that tears burned much like shame did.  As they trailed down her cheeks, she found that she could do nothing to stop them. How is this justice?  How does killing him resolve anything?  It’s your fault he’s even here again in the first place.  You  unleashed this ‘evil’ yourself.  The weight of the situation was steadily crushing her, an uprising surge of panic and grief threatening to submerge her.  After snivelling meekly, she doubled down, feet planted firmly on the ground, hands curled into defiant little balls.   “I won’t leave him behind.  If you want to get to him, you’ll have to go through me.  ”

     Could you do that, Lord?  Could you damn an innocent soul just for acting earnestly?

    “Grace…”   The God’s blade vanished, the small creature floating closer to her.   “You have to understand, this is for the best.”

    “For WHO?!”   she shrieked.   “For YOU, that’s who.  Not for me.  Not for him.  Not for the hundreds of people he’s helped.”    Everything  hurt.  Her chest ached every time she took a breath.  Her vision blurred a little more every time she blinked.  The tremors wracking her body left her feeling frazzled and exhausted.  In a more resigned tone:   “If he goes, so do I.”

    “Grace…!”   She turned back to see Edgar staring at her, wide-eyed and urgent.   “Please step back.  Don’t say th--”

    “I’m tired, Eddie,”   the scout interrupted, voice worn and weary as she looked down at him. Her hands reached out, gently touching the sides of his face again.   “... I’m so tired of living so precariously.  I want to be happy.  I want to feel stable.  I get those things when I’m with you.”   She smiled a weak smile, sinking to her knees before him once more.  Though she couldn’t stop crying, she nestled her face into his chest, relishing in the warmth, in the familiar scent.   “I always respected you for giving me choices.  I’d like to be allowed to make this final one.  If Raku takes you away, I’ll be close behind.”

    “... how…?”

    “We’re on the edge of a cliff, Edgar.”

    His arms wound tightly around her then, like an anaconda threatening to squeeze the life out of its prey.  She didn’t resist;  only nuzzled closer, his warmth soothing the terror inside.  You can’t fix me.  You never could.  But you can make things better.

    The God stared wordlessly at the couple, their wholesome embrace sending a chill down the length of his spine.  The whole time he’d thought to pursue this line of action, he hadn’t considered the possibility that Edgar was in a genuine, loving relationship.  The deity knew very well of Edgar’s sweet nothings;  of his momentary fascinations with ‘perfect’ women, only for it to sour when they displeased him in some way.  A hopeless romantic--  but a twisted one, too. One obsessed with fairytale-esque connections  -  and one who grew angry when the picture-perfect moment was soiled.  One argument was all it took.  One little blunder that most didn’t even consider a mistake…  but there was no faking the hurt on his face.  The way he clung to her was nothing short of desperate--  as if she was all he had.  Perhaps that was true.

    Was I…  wrong?  Did this little crusade of mine go too far?     Was there some element of truth to this murderer’s outrage?     Was the idea to raise damned souls from the dirt a twisted one after all?     Why do I feel like  I’m  the bad guy...?

    It had never failed him before.  Edgar was the first and only example of a hybrid lye far out-lasting its given time.  But just because his methods had succeeded in the past, itdidn’t mean that they were necessarily ethical.  A bad man Edgar Romero had been…  but a tortured one too.

    Would you have travelled that same path had you not lost everything?     Could I have done something?

    Briefly, he thought about all the positive things that he had accomplished during his first life. He’d done all he could for his family, bent over backwards to work and provide for them;  he’d been a fair, honest businessman who hadn’t resorted to trickery or fraud;  he’d incited positive political change, both as a protestor and as a public figure.  Saying ‘no’ to those above him when he felt that they were wrong…  he’d always done that  -  even before he’d lost his family.

    Are you saying ‘no’ to me in that same fashion too?

    “Perhaps…”   The God hesitated, before sinking to the ground.  Small black feet were soundless as they touched the rock below.  I honestly don’t know if I have the  bottle  for this regardless.  Killing somebody willingly...  it’s a horrifying concept, even if it’s for the greater good.  I was never too good at the ‘punishment’ part, was I, Al?  Though neither of the lyes turned or looked up to regard him, both sets of ears had swivelled in his direction.  They were listening, even if they were doing so begrudgingly.   “... perhaps there is another way.”

[sweetsmalldog]

A Broken Hallelujah

Warnings: Blood, Religious themes and imagery, semi-graphic descriptions of injury

Description: Angels fall

I'd heard there was a secret chord

The deep snow surrounding him was scorched. It was all stained, stained with the golden blood of an angel.

That David played and it pleased the Lord

He knelt next to him. His wings burnt and tears in his eyes. Ted knew how painful the fall was. But he also knew it was nothing compared to the feelings of betrayal and abandonment. She had made them to protect humans after all, so why should one fall for protecting them.

But you don't really care for music, do you?

He took Paul’s hands, they were bleeding, burned, and raw, leaving both of their hands sparkling like metal. Paul’s clothing shredded and singed in the fall. His wings were horribly burned. White feathers had been coated in gold while others had snapped or been coated in ash. The heavenly gold mixing with the ashes of the fall on his once well groomed wings.

Well, it goes like this

Paul’s eyes meet his, “All I did-“

“I know,” Ted cut him off he knew saying it would hurt more, to vocalize your innocence.

The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift

Ted moved his soaked hands to help Paul sit. Burns and cuts littered his skin. The ash continued to fall around them like snow.

The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Paul was deathly pale as his skin slowly lost its angelic glow. The moon shining threw his broken halo. Though nothing was more broken then the look in his eyes.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Ted cupped Paul’s crying face in his hands. The salty tears mixing with the glimmering gold. He cleaned his hand before wiping Paul’s tears away.

“They don’t deserve those,” Ted whispered.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Paul held Ted’s clean hand in his broken one. Paul was bruised, bleeding, and broken yet more holy then any left in Heaven.

Well, your faith was strong but you needed proof

“Why?” Paul asked, “Why are you here?”

Part of Ted wanted to tell him all of it. How he never stopped loving him. That Paul had always been his everything. Paul was his judge, not Hell, not Heaven, and not certainly not God.

You saw her bathing on the roof

Ted somehow managed to not look away from Paul in that moment. Eyes asking, hoping that’s asking a question wouldn’t hurt him for once.

Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya

“I couldn’t leave you,” Now wasn’t the time. Paul was in so much pain. Telling him how deep Ted’s devotion ran wouldn’t help anything.

She tied you to the kitchen chair

Paul was silently begging him to give him a true answer. Give him the truth. Be the first person in Paul’s immortality to give him that.

She broke your throne and she cut your hair

Paul’s long hair had been scorched in the fall. Leaving it smoldering. It no longer framed his face. It made him look more vulnerable.

“Ted...” Paul murmured, it wasn’t even a request, it was a plead.

And from your lips, she drew the Hallelujah

“I just couldn’t leave you like this, ok?” Ted wasn’t going to cry, he couldn’t cry when Paul needed him.

He couldn’t tell him now. Not while Paul bled in the snow. Not so soon after his fall. Paul needed to heal.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Splinters of Paul’s halo lay in the snow, slowly melting it with the heat of its fractured grace. Making the snow glow pale blue as Paul’s faith leaked from its broken crown.

Well baby, I've been here before

Ted carefully took a large splinter from the snow and pressed in into Paul’s hands. Slowly the ruins of his devotion would heal him.

I've seen this room and I've walked this floor

Paul’s tears hadn’t dried. But they would. It would still hurt, being ripped from the bliss of ignorance and so brutally used as an example. Your purpose being ripped from you as everyone watches. But Paul would heal, slowly but surely.

I used to live alone before I knew ya

“Your not going to leave me?” Paul asks softly, scared of the answer, terrified of another violent reaction to an innocent question.

And I've seen your flag on the marble arch

“Never,” Ted assures, “As long as you want me beside you I’m here.”

And love is not a victory march

Suddenly Paul’s tears weren’t only born of pain. Relief washed over his face. His eyes shone brighter then the stars above them.

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Gently the snow began to fall again. Intent on covering the world once again in a blanket of white. A blanket to cover the horrors of Paul’s ordeal from prying eyes. To shield Heaven from the destruction and pain they cause once again.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Ted wished he could force Heaven to face what they’ve done. Make them look at the destruction they shield their eyes from. Make them experience the horror of your existence being stripped from you. Make them bleed in the snow.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Ted glanced down at Paul. He’s only wearing tattered rags. The once blinding white of his tunic stained grey with soot. He took off his jacket before lifting Paul into his arms.

Well, maybe there's a God above

Paul squeaked as he was lifted “Ted!”

Snow flakes were caught in his hair. Tear tracks stained his face. He was still bleeding and bruised. His wrists still mangled. He looked every bit the martyr he was. In Ted’s arms, wrapped in a wool coat to shield the rags underneath. He was more holy than anyone else above or below.

But all I've ever learned from love

Paul leaned his head against Ted’s chest. A silent declaration of trust. His eyes full of an emotion Ted couldn’t quite place.

Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya

Ted held Paul close to his chest. He raises his wings to protect him from the elements. The winds were only getting stronger as Paul’s holy aura flickered.

“I’ve got you,” Ted says it like a prayer.

And it's not a cry that you hear at night

Paul tears returned as it all hit him. He would never see heaven again. They had cast him aside. For one innocent act he’d lost it all.

Ted didn’t say anything. He knew what it was like. That feeling of loss. When it hit you it was worse then the pain of falling.

It's not somebody who's seen the light

The snow crunches under his feet. The sparkling white feels like a mockery of what they’ve both lost.

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Paul’s blood dripped down his arms. The gold droplets landing in the snow. Breaking up the pristine white with the blood of the once holy.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Paul’s hand touched his cheek. The warm blood making him realize how cold his face is. He looked at Paul.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

He’s still crying. But that look Ted can’t place is still there. He didn’t know what it is but it warms his heart.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

“Thank you,” Paul’s smile was sad and tender. Still with that feeling Ted couldn’t place.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Then it hit him. His heart skipped a beat. A blush spread over his cheeks. How?

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Their lips met. The wind howled. And for a moment the world melted away.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

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[notusedtohappy]

"Can you die of happiness?"

pride and prejudice starters.    /    accepting!

an absolutely solid question, vital even, in the grand scheme of things. it is something they always return to in their conversations: how can they be happy, are they happy, and more than happy enough? he wishes to believe they are, the way they finally gave themselves a chance after the first and disastrous trial of a relationship  ( not even a real one, an affair   ⸺  two separate and married people finding themselves in the middle of grade a disaster idea neither of them could walk away from, although both of them knew they needed to ). in the end she has been stronger than him, better than him at this, and decided for both of them. and it has been the right thing to do back then, to fix the shambles of his life without dragging her into it and to give her the space she deserved and fought so hard for to have and to grow in. he let her go, not easily, but of course he did  ⸺  he could never say no to her, could he? one pie enough to render him into a nearly senseless man, a fool for her through and through, and happier than he has been in a long time. and it has been hard to leave this behind, the safety of their arrangement and the peace he found in her presence, but it was for the better. his wife deserved the truth, some honesty from him about the shift in his behaviour that has needed an explanation for a while now, and a better husband, a better man, anyway. someone who could love her like he did in the beginning, someone who could love her like he loved somebody else. she gave him hell for it, rightfully so and he knew it, but it has been hard. everything about this period in his life has been hard, safe for the time he spent with the expert pie maker, and the aftermath has been the worst of it. missing her, losing the stability he had in his life, only finding joy in his work the way he usually did, but entirely farthest away from happiness in all other regards of his life. it was like every door he made for himself shut into his face simultaneously, never for him to walk out of the rut he created for himself.

only with returning to the small town he left behind in search for happiness, in a pursuit for it  (  the pie he missed always coming to mind when hearing the phrase ), he found what he has been looking for. it has always been jenna; the light that resided in her eyes so sparsely the first time he met her and now resided there like it found a nice home for itself, how just her presence in a room drew his eyes away from any other matter he had to attend, transfixed and enraptured and special in only the way she was, and then of course her kindness and her talent and her love for her family   ⸺    lulu, the diner with its patrons, her two best friends. it was happiness on a silver plate, she was, always has been to him, and it has not taken much for him to fall back into the love he never stopped feeling for her. she made all his fears reduce to ash, made his hands stop fidgeting and the knot in his chest ease, and she made him feel better about himself just for the simple fact that she has loved someone like him in the first place, someone so unstable, so fizzy, someone so afraid of everything and yet never afraid of what they had. he used to be a burned-out and erratic picture of a man, neurotic and unhappy and unruly, and it is as if she made sense of all the parts of himself that never fit without her around. she helped him piece himself back together. she inspired him and still does to this day, more than anybody else, so how could he not ask her again? ask her if she’d try again, if she still loved him too, or if she wanted to love him again? anything, really, just anything. ( although he did prepare himself for rejection, to leave again once she’d say no to him, to search for his life someplace else and be glad to know she was happy. ) but then she said yes, and suddenly everything locked into place. euphoric and ecstatic and swooping her up in a kiss and her kissing him back and a house full of love and laughter and life and becoming a steady heartbeat again instead of the jagged and irrational thing beating away in his chest.

“i hope not,” he tells her finally, looking down at her after he kissed her, something he now is free to do whenever he wants to; and what a thrill this simple fact alone is to him. they move around each other in perfect synchronization, two parallel lines never meeting but running the same course together, and colliding when they deliberately want to. arms around her waist and hands on the small of her back, keeping her close to him the way he loves to do, to know her in his arms and her smile against his lips, to look down at her and see nothing but the one person he loves most in the world, the one person that could always bring him down to earth when in danger of tethering away. and of course, the little girl looking so much like her mother that also captured his heart in a matter of minutes when he returned and now has her own place there   ⸺   both of them give him so much and he could only every try to pay them back in kind every day. to love them with everything he has. smile wide on his face, feeling like it could split it in two, his nose touching hers as he leans down to kiss her again  ( he would never ever tire of it! ) and stand so close to her that there legs are a little tangled up, chests nearly aligned, and yet never close enough. “if that would be the case, i’m pretty sure this here would be heaven. pinch me to show me this is real.”

[oldmyths]

hiya drew, what are a couple bands/songs you'd recommend for someone interested in getting into classic rock? I hope you're having a great day

hey anon! this is an extremely loaded question! sdfjdfkgjd (and i’m really flattered you’re askin me, because, omg, it’s an honor)

(under a read more bc i talk too god damn much)

okay. lemme preface this by saying i barely scratch the surface when it comes to classic rock. in fact i just like the “popular” classic rock bands, because i’m a hipster loser (and i grew up on some of this stuff and don’t really have much of an interest venturing further but hey, who knows, maybe i’ll expand my spotify library in due time)

there are people on this website in the CR fandom who are so much better equipped to answer this, but u asked me, and i never really bothered to integrate into the cr fandom anyway because i feel like theyre all cooler than me and i just wanna sit down and listen to like, the same two albums on repeat, but anyway. to answer your question…

it really just depends on what genre you like. what kind of music you want to get into; i can sit here and tell you to listen to pink floyd and go on about their significance but i can’t make you Like them yknow?

so…..i’m just gonna list a few of my favorite songs by the most well-known classic rock bands because, like i said i just kind of barely scratch the surface on the classic rock format as a whole

as some of you may be aware, i am drew “beatlefucker” angelshane (thanks ana) and to get these bug boys out of the way, i’ll give u some song recs from the beatles! (early 1960s to 1970) (genres: rock, pop, psychedelia)

surely you’ve heard of them; if not, they caused a huge uproar across the world called beatlemania. think of like…tumblr, as a planet, and the beatles is the newest, hottest anime of the season, and everybody’s got a huge heart boner for them. because that’s basically what it was.

here are some of their songs that have been in my head for the past few days: drive my car (rubber soul, 1965); eleanor rigby (revolver, 1966); and if i fell (a hard day’s night, 1964)

revolver is the most recent album i’ve listened to, they have more but the next proper Album is sgt. pepper and that feels…like. so much. it’s a Huge Album, both content-wise and…history-wise? anyway, it’s very intimidating for me and i think i want to take my time with it before i rush in

i’m just gonna get led zeppelin (late 1960s to 1980, some reunions sprinkled here and there,) out of the way, now, too. (genres: hard rock, blues rock, folk rock, heavy metal)

let me just say right here: i hate jimmy page. as a person. and i honestly think most of his solos aren’t…that great. but for real, i won’t tolerate any of that ugly shithead on my blog and just because i like LZ doesn’t mean i condone any of the shit he did.

(you’ll notice a trend, especially in the older bands, that controversy is super common. u can’t..really get into classic rock without having to see the darker side of your faves. it sucks, nobody’s perfect, and i don’t agree with separating the artist from the art, but it does get hard to like certain music when you know the shit that happened with certain artists.)

Anyway! that being said, i truthfully only really listen to led zeppelin and led zeppelin ii. some physical graffiti but, eh. So, if you wanted to get into lz, you’re askin the wrong person, is what i’m saying jfkgsdj

here’s my song recs: good times bad times and dazed and confused (led zeppelin, 1968); whole lotta love and ramble on (led zeppelin ii, 1969); kashmir (physical graffiti, 1975)

and honestly the JP thing is why i don’t really listen to LZ much outside of their self titled and lz2. cos like. i just can’t.

QUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN (1970s to…now? personally, if freddie mercury isn’t involved then..is it really queen) (genre: rock)

if you don’t know who queen is, you know who queen is. bohemian rhapsody? of course you know that song. everyone does.

but if you don’t then that’s perfectly ok too. it’s a good song imo. not their Best, but it’s good

i gotta be honest, i listen to singles mostly. i’ve got a lot on my proverbial plate and while i Love freddie mercury (bi king) sometimes i’m just. not in the headspace for queen. they’re good but a certain specific set of circumstances need to happen where i feel aligned with queen music enough to listen to it. also, freddie’s death makes me really sad and if i think about it too hard i’ll get depressed.

here’s my favorite queen songs!!!

brighton rock and killer queen (sheer heart attack, 1974); you’re my best friend (a night at the opera, 1975); somebody to love and GOOD OLD FASHIONED LOVER BOY (a day at the races, 1976); TOO MUCH LOVE WILL KILL YOU (made in heaven, 1996)

honestly..queen is so influential and inspiring and i fucking love freddie mercury so like. those are just a few of my favorites. i could honestly go on forever about it but let’s stop there

now let’s get away from the boys and talk about stevie nicks because she is my mother and i would die in her place given the chance. i love her. I Love Her.

but i mean you’d probably better begin at fleetwood mac (late 1960s to the mid 1990s; late 1990s to …now?) (genres: pop rock, soft rock, blues rock, art pop, british blues)

this is a band i don’t know much about. because there’s apparently so much to know about them, so much inter-band dynamic drama. from what i’ve skimmed. So Much Drama.

i…can’t provide any songs for you, because i dont listen to fleetwood mac and i need to fix this ASAP but i feel like the time isn’t right yet. is that dumb of me to think? probably, but i’m gonna stick by my guns.

you should listen to fleetwood mac and tell me what you think!!!

(yes i included a portion on stevie nicks without giving song recs because i’m awful: listen to edge of seventeen, bella donna, 1981)

okay back to smelly dudes cos that’s all the world fuckin cares about i guess

pink floyd!!! (mid 1960s to mid 1990s, mid 2000s, and early/mid 2010s) (genres: progrock, art rock, psychedelic rock)

i mean i love them but i’m just dipping my toes in the water here. i’ve barely listened to them, but from what i’ve heard they’re very good. VERY politically driven. i cannot stress this enough. they’re the good kind of politics i think though

you’ve most definitely seen the album art for the dark side of the moon. like, you just have. there’s probably no way you couldn’t have. (but if u haven’t thats fine)

here’s some tunes: money (tdsotm, 1973); the wall. just. the wall. if you love concept albums, here you go. listen to the wall.

that’s all i got. pathetic, i know, but i’m workin my way up i promise

here’s where we get into more familiar territory. ..having said that, i don’t really know much about the history of the rolling stones, but a good friend of mine Does and maybe i can pry info out of her. but i won’t bc she’s too cool 4 school and she’s really great

anyway, the rolling stones!!! (early 1960s to like. now i guess) (genres: rock, blues, blues rock, rock and roll)

woof. what can be said about them really. there’s…..almost too much to say. i love them a lot.

Okay when i get into bands, its in my DNA to listen from the very earliest recording i can find (usually on spotify nowadays) so i’ve been sslowly working my way past the baby pebbles albums (mostly covers) to their original work (fun fact did you know john and paul of beatles fame wrote their own music, and when mick and keith of stones fame found out it was In Fact That Easy they began to write their own music too? fascinating.)

ANYWAY here’s some stones songs: gimme shelter and you can’t always get what you want (let it bleed, 1969); angie (goats head soup, 1973); sympathy for the devil (beggars banquet, 1968)

again i am….Slowly inching my way up their discography. snails pace. i’ll get there. (u can ask glimmerkeith on tumblr for stones song recs, bc shes great and knows much more than i do and i would die for jenn)

now here’s a band…….that i’ve rediscovered pretty recently. try, last week.

AC/DC!!!!!!!! (early 1970s to now) (genres: hard rock, blues rock, rock and roll)

this is Very Much Your Dads™ Music. probably. most likely, anyway. but listen: i saw them in concert once and (while it probably…wasnt the best experience for me) i had a fucking Blast. very sad things happened in this band in the last few months.

not recent, but very important, in 1980 their lead singer bon scott died and everyone was sad. then brian johnson came out with his fuckin voice and everyone was like “ok sweet lets get back to rock n’ roll”

so this will be split by scott’s era and the johnson era (heh heh) And, because i’m familiar with this band, i’ll list the album in question and name a few songs off it instead of just naming songs. because yes.

scott:

T.N.T (1975); it’s a long way to the top (if you wanna rock ‘n’ roll); T.N.T; high voltage

dirty deeds done dirt cheap (1976); dirty deeds done dirt cheap (edit: i just realized how much i actually hate this album and only like that song so WHOOPS but i wanna keep the formatting so, yknow)

let there be rock (1977); let there be rock; whole lotta rosie

highway to hell (1979); highway to hell (it just felt really weird, making a reclist of songs by ac/dc and Not including this one)

johnson:

back in black (1980); HELLS BELLS; shoot to thrill; given the dog a bone; back in black; you shook me all night long

for those about to rock we salute you (1981); for those about to rock (we salute you)

the razors edge (1990); thunderstruck

making this list, it hit me how much of bon scott i actually Listen to when i listen to ac/dc dfkjghjdfksdsfj but uh yeah those. are good

AND NOW…FOR THE FUCKIN MOMENT I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR

GUNS! AND! ROSES! (mid 1980s to NOW MOTHERFUCKERS!!! THEYRE BACK!!! well, touring at least) (genres: hard rock, heavy metal

arguably my favorite band. subjectively, my favorite classic rock band. objectively? they own a huuuge portion of my heart, and my ass.

so listen up: these two kids from indiana run away to california to get out of fucking indiana, because who wants to stay in indiana, (it’s more like, one gets out, and like a year later the other kid tries to find him in the big mean streets of L.A) and along the way they get shuffled in and out of bands together. they start bands, break up bands, the whole fuckin shebang.

and then a few chance miracles happen and suddenly guns n’ roses is formed in like 1985. my boys? those are my boys.

i’m gonna do what i did w ac/dc and bullet the albums and then i’m gonna talk about the albums because i got SHIT to SAY

appetite for destruction (1987); welcome to the jungle, out ta get me, paradise city, sweet child o’ mine, ROCKET QUEEN

all right so here’s the deal, it was very hard not picking every single song on the album because every single song on the album is fucking perfection. actual gold. there’s no flaws in this album. Nothing. everything is good and perfect and i’m not biased at all

did you know axl rose (one of the boys from indiana) recorded each line individually? so, he sang a line, and then stopped recording, and then started recording the next line because he wanted it to be perfect?

did you know appetite was originally a flop album but after this dude got the guys at MTV to play the music video for Jungle at like 5am, guns n’ roses BLEW THE FUCK UP. Everybody know about them practically overnight. it was surreal and really cool, apparently.

and did you know axl played the synthesizer in paradise city? that’s adorable. i fucking love him.

gn’r lies (1988); patience; used to love her

the first four tracks in this EP are from their very first EP ever recorded - it Sounds like it’s taken from a live show but they dubbed in the audience in post, to make it seem like they had huge crowds attending their shows when in reality that wasn’t the case. (their first ep was released in december 1986, they had loyal fans but the crowd wasn’t that rowdy until after appetite came out)

believe me when i tell you. don’t listen to one in a million. or like, do. but i’m not gonna fight anyone about this. it’s fucked up. i’m not defending axl at all and i actually struggled with liking guns after i listened to it.

but unfortunately here we are and i saw them in concert and i had to deal with some fuckhead in the row behind me and his friend who kept Shouting that they play the song, when nobody on stage could her them, and like. of course they wouldn’t play it today. fuck off man

use your illusion i (1991); right next door to hell; dust n’ bones; perfect crime; november rain; BAD APPLES; COMA

i tried to limit these to five songs an album but i fuckin can’t, anon. illusion1 is just so fucking perfect. i can’t choose between my children. pls forgive me

on dust n’ bones and double talkin’ jive is izzy stradlin doing vocals (the second indiana boy, the one who left indiana first) and he’s regarded as the most unnderrated member in gnr by like everybody. so much so that it’s almost…too much. but like basically he was addicted to drugs and everything and then he sobered up when everyone else in the band was still hooked and he was like “wtf i’m out” and axl was like noooo :(

use your illusion ii (1991); civil war; 14 years; GET IN THE RING; locomotive; estranged; you could be mine

UYI1 and 2 were released on the same day. can you imagine how fuckin wild that day was? gnr fans scrambled to their record stores by the hordes probably.

izzy does vocal work in 14 years and this album was his last contribution to the band

uhhhh this album is also fucking perfect but i get sad listening to it sometimes so i try not to? very emotionally driven work. but like, where UYI1 was mostly passionate and angry-ish based, UYI2 is much more contemplative and uhh. sad. i guess.

“the spaghetti incident?” (1993)

this is a cover album and also the last album to feature my love, my soul, my light, my heart, slash. also duff. i mean i love him probably almost just as much but, yeah. duff actually looks like my cousin’s dad so i can’t really…. um. i feel weird about talking about him kjdfgd

but SLASH my god what a perfect man. i love him more than almost everything.

hey fun fact in between UYI and TSI, guns n’ roses toured with metallica and that tour is when slash, In His Autobiography, said he “lost” axl. his word. he Lost axl.

axl rose is a whole fuckin…..topic for another time, and i’m not gonna get into my own bullshit here, but that’s basically the situation when you listen to TSI. the band is fractured and barely holding together. after TSI, slash and duff leave GNR and axl is the only original member from the band still in it

(of course that opens up a conversation of who was originally in guns n’ roses but that’s another discourse for another time)

CHINESE DEMOCRACY (2008); CHINESE DEMOCRACY; BETTER; THERE WAS A TIME; SORRY; MADAGASCAR; PROSTITUTE

I. FUCKING. LOVE. THIS. ALBUM. MORE THAN I COULD EVER EXPRESS. everyone says it’s “not gnr” of COURSE it isn’t gnr, when YOU think of GNR, you see slash. and like, i love slash? but he didn’t make the band. EVERYONE - axl, izzy, steven, duff, And slash made the band. after steven was kicked, gnr lost a huge part of what made them stand out, what made the band unique.

and like, fuck, i love dizzy. i love all of the new additions. but you cannot. fucking look me in the eyes and tell me you love UYI But you hate CD because it’s “not gnr”. like. fuck you man.

ugh anyway. i just gotta let y’all know my Stance on this. i love chinese democracy. i’ll defend this album with my fucking life. i was really…disappointed when, at my concert, i didn’t hear more CD but like i also saw slash in person (albeit, from far away, but we shared the same arena and that’s. more than i can handle)

i wanna get lyrics from prostitute tattooed on my body.

also like you can’t tell me better and sorry aren’t about slash sorry but that’s just the fuckin tea

Now, listen, this ask got away from me. i didn’t include…SO many bands because, like i said, i just scratch the surface of what classic rock is. my word isn’t law, ok? that bein said, i am always, ALWAYS down to talk about any of the bands here, and others!!! if i know of them. i’m always taking music/song recs, too.

thanks..for reading this stupid answer to your innocent ask sdfkjghsdf

[singers-auto]

Darkness Rising - Chapter 2 - Flirtin’ with Disaster

Fic Summary: Raine Baxter was your semi-normal, girl-next-door with a heart from Heaven and a mouth from Hell. She was living the dream with her boyfriend, Derek, when out of nowhere, a voice warns her of what’s to come. That’s when two brothers with a black Chevrolet Impala show up and turn her life into a rollercoaster, but who’s to say she doesn’t enjoy the ride?

Chapter Characters: Raine Baxter (OC), Demon, Dean Winchester (implied), Sam Winchester (implied), Baby

Rating: 13+ (depictions of violence, drinking)

Chapter Summary: As the world collapses around her, Raine does what she must to survive.

Author’s Notes: Hey again! The second chapter... posted!! I know the fic started out a bit slow but the next few chapters will pick up the pace. I’m actually really proud of this chapter! It turned out exactly how I wanted it so I hope y’all like it! If wanted, I can start a taglist. Just shoot me a message or comment below if you want to be on it. 

________________________________________________________________

As I walked through the abandoned streets of Westfield, Indiana trying my best to get home before anyone, or anything, caught sight of me. I couldn’t afford to get caught now, especially with how things ended with Derek. If anything happened to him now I would never get over it, he’s just too special to me. Plus we’ve been together for so long. I just couldn’t handle losing him right now, not with how far we’ve come in our relationship.

All of a sudden there was a noise about 100 yards to my right. It sounded like somebody threw a wine bottle into a cast iron pan. I didn’t know exactly what to do. My first thought was to panic but I knew that would do no good in a moment that could mean life or death. I know this sounds dramatic but at this point, anything is a possibility, and if given the choice, I choose life.

I jerked my head towards the direction the God-awful sound came from just in time to see a dark shape dart into the alley. I knew I shouldn’t, but I walked towards the alley the thing crawled into. I reached into my dark green duffel bag and produced the tire iron that I carry around in case my Harley got a flat. I hoisted it up like a bat, ready to swing at whatever came at me. I plastered myself to the bricks of the building, not daring to lift a shoulder from them. As I approached the corner leading into the alley, I sent up a small prayer to whoever was listening. I dropped my duffel, which was holding my helmet, to the ground so I could have both hands free. The sudden thud apparently alerted the creature and I heard a deafening screech. It was close. I could feel the sweat starting to bead on my forehead. I quickly wiped it so it didn’t run into my eyes. It was time for me to move, but my legs didn’t want to work. I needed some courage, real or fake, it didn’t matter at this point in time. I leaned in and listened to make sure I didn’t hear footsteps, and when I didn’t, I reached into the pocket of my duffel grabbing my flask full of whiskey. I took a swig and replaced the cap.

“This should do,” I whispered to myself as I put the flask back into my bag.

I held my breath as I lunged around the corner and into the alleyway, my tire iron held tightly in my fist. At first, I didn’t see anything as the alley was extremely dark. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, but when they did, I wished they hadn’t of.

I was standing face to face with a man the size of a gorilla. His arms were as big as my head, maybe bigger. He stood a little over six feet tall and every bit of it was muscle. But that’s not the thing that scared me the most because I could handle big, burly men. You have no idea just how bold these type of men get when they’re drunk and see a pretty girl in the bar. It was his eyes. I didn’t know what was wrong with them. They were pitch black. Not a hint of color in the iris other than black. No white was visible, just black. They radiated hatred and pure evil towards me. He looked like he could rip me apart in less than thirty seconds. And it seemed he wanted to.

At that moment all thoughts other than ‘survive’ left my brain. I was frozen for a few seconds, not knowing how to continue with this situation. I knew I was going to have to move at some point, to get away from this man, but just how, I didn’t know yet. I could try to fight my way out of it with my tire iron but even with my strength and the added bonus of pure iron, I knew that wouldn’t be enough to stop this train. I looked around for another option, an open window, a ladder, even a fence I could climb would be helpful in escaping. To my dismay, I saw nothing. I looked back at the black-eyed man, dropped my tire iron, and stepped forward. I had reached my last option that might not end in certain death.

I flashed a smile. Not just any smile, but the type of smile that could get a sixteen-year-old into a bar with no problems or questions asked. I only used this type of smile when I was trying to convince Derek to take me to watch a horror movie in the cinemas, which he hated. It seemed some smiles on women have what seems to be, magical powers over men. You can bend them to your will in a matter of seconds with a nice flash of your pearly whites.

I edged closer to the man, carefully unzipping my leather jacket. I walked with newfound confidence and, dare I say, sass. I knew what I had to do and I was working it. As I got within ten feet of the man, I noticed his eyes flicked back to their normal color. He had a small smirk plastered on his face. I stopped, not out of fear, but because I had a plan. I let my leather jacket slip off and onto the ground. Underneath I was just wearing a light gray tank top, the one I had worn to bed the previous night. It was a chilly morning so I instantly regretted taking off my jacket.

“Hey honey,” I started. Placing one of my hands on my hip and using the other hand to run through my blonde hair. “Why are you hiding out in the dark for? I’d rather you be in the light so I can see you better,” I added with a seductive smile.

I cocked my head to the right and puckered my lips ever so slightly, all the while grabbing the tips of my hair with my free hand and twirling it around my fingers. I crossed my legs at my ankles and shot a wink his way.

“Well,” He began. “If you were to see me it would ruin all the fun now, wouldn’t it?” I could see him cross his arms and lean forward on his feet a bit.

“Now, now, now, let’s not get too cocky shall we?” I stepped closer, pushing my chest outwards. As I got within a foot of him I could smell the booze rolling off of his breath like waves at a beach. I had to hold back a gag. “Now honey,” I started again, false lust dripping from my voice like venom from a snake. I slowly placed my hand on his chest. “Wow… well built aren’t we? Looks like I’m gonna have a good night.”

“Why did I say that?” I thought to myself. “What have I started? How am I gonna get out of this now?”

“Not as good as the night I’m going to have sweetheart.” And with that he grabbed me by the back of my neck, hands wound into my hair. “Don’t know how fun it’s going to be for you though.” As he said that, his eyes flicked black again.

I could feel his breath on my face. I didn’t know whether to scream or try and fight back. My options were limited, as was my time it seemed. As I thought back on my life and to my future, I figured I would rather go out fighting than go out whimpering at the mercy of a man I met in an alley.

I slowly looked up and into the man’s face. I was staring him in the eye with a newfound determination and confidence. I jerked my leg so that my knee would end up in his gut. He doubled over but didn’t let go of my hair. I swung my fist around and connected with the side of his head. I could feel him wince under my fist but it didn’t seem to affect him much so I drew my head back, what little I could, and slammed it into his head. He finally let go of my hair and stumbled backward.

I ran to the opening of the alley and grabbed my tire iron and hoisted it back like a bat. I turned around just in time to see him lunging my way. I swung the iron but it was too late, he had grabbed me and twisted me around so that my back was towards him. He ripped the iron from my grip and twisted my arms painfully behind my back.

“Let me go!” I screamed as he dragged me deeper into the alley. In the distance, I heard the rumble of a car, the first I had heard in hours. It was steadily getting closer but I didn’t pay too much attention to it.

“Shut up!” He pushed me into the wall. “Or die!” I quieted down and closed my eyes, hoping this was all a horrible nightmare. Opening them again to realize this was all real, I decided to try one last thing in a desperate attempt to free myself from his vice-like grip. I jerked my head backward and felt it connect with his nose. He merely grunted in response and shoved my head into the wall… hard. He threw me to the ground at his feet.

The next few seconds were a blur, I was seeing stars, then my vision started to get blurry. I could vaguely hear a car pull up and what sounded like two doors slam. I heard muffled voices, more men it seemed. Then I heard a scream, it sounded like the man I had encountered. Footsteps coming closer to me, then voices, two of them. I wanted to look at their faces but my vision was still so blurry and my head hurt so bad, so I closed my eyes. That is the last thing I remember.

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[jj-ktae]

Romanticised

Title : Romanticised

Author : Myself 

Pairing : Im Jaebum x You (reader)

Summary : He had planned everything for both of them, including a newly born romantic side.

“All set?”

“Yeah, I have the wine bottle.”

It was hard to see where you were both going, but the firm grip on your hand was like a guide in a secret forest, full of fantasy.

The summer had granted both of you a cool evening, with a soft breeze and no sweat. You were grateful to be able to go out without melting like snow and your boyfriend was slowly walking toward the secret place he had told you about. This date was a total surprise and you could almost see the happiness paint itself on your significant other’s face, signalling he was enjoying your little adventure.

“Are you sure we’re not going to get lost?” You inquired, glancing awkwardly at the tall palm trees and flowers blocking the view.

“Of course not, I’ve been there already.” Your boyfriend walked faster and jumped a tall step, turning around to reach out to you.

“Come on, I’ll catch you babe.” He said and you kneeled down, ready to fly in his arm like a small sparrow reaching for its mum. You landed safely in the comfort of his chest and he took the opportunity to brush his nose against yours, smirking.

“Are you happy?” the question felt surreal, coming from him.

“Of course, Jaebum. Why are you asking?” You questioned, not getting the sudden need for sappiness.

Jaebum wasn’t the kind of guy who could pull of such romantic skills, let alone mushy phrases under the moonlight. He was more of a smooth operator, juggling with sensual and serious, then mixed with desire. In short, Jaebum was a typical jazz song, not pressing and dictating, but guiding and suggestive. His deep velvety voice could whisper the sweetest things, but also the dirtiest words with the same tone, unwavering.

You often found yourself evaporating under his hungry eyes and plump lips every time he’d whisper the things he’d do to you. He wasn’t usually doing this to make sure you were okay with it, but for you to know how deep his envy was. You had no words to say in how your flesh was belonging to this person who was suddenly smiling at you like a schoolboy.

“I’m happy. I feel like I’m not saying it enough. You know it, right?” You parted from him and met an insecure face you knew too little.

“Well, I am happy.” You concluded and he acquiesced, knowing you were just like him when it came to sappy and sugary moments. “Hurry up.” He said and readjusted the backpack containing all the things you needed to spend a quiet moment together.

When he had asked you if you were free for the week-end, you were surprised, because Im Jaebum was never free during the week-ends. He’d always have some errands to do. Write a song, compose, rehearse, sleep, eat, anything that would only leave a couple of hours for you two. You were not complaining though, because he had made sure that you were aware of what cruise you were boarding on when you agreed on dating him.

It wasn’t as close as to be called a cruise anyway, but more of a solitary journey, but the short moments spent together were enough to offset whatever lonely feeling you once had.

Jaebum was delicate enough to read you without asking too many questions anyway. He was the quiet type, and while you were more of a communicative human being, he was into searching answers with his eyes and body, not leaving room for yelling.

He could yell too, though, and it was rare but electric, like a slap in the face without a warning.

To sum up, your boyfriend was the definition of simple, with a hint of impulsivity and no time for frivolity.

Living the moment was his motto, a saying you heard so many times you could see it painted all over his delicate features.

He stopped you in your thoughts by letting go of your hand, showing the place surrounding you.

It was a small cove, with a wooden shed. The color had faded with time and an abandoned surfboard was lying next to it, damaged by erosion and sea wind. The place looked raw and small bushes were peeking around patches of sand, reminding of its initial owner.

“Do you like it?” he asked, putting the backpack between you too and opening it.

“It’s...so pretty...” It was truly wonderful. Soft waves were lulling the place, surrounding them in a thin layer of peace and serenity.

Jaebum was busy with the huge beach towel, and he placed it neatly in front of the sea, seating. He looked up to you, patting the spot next to him.

“I only came once here, with the boys. I thought it could be good to show you. It’s heaven.” He said, taking out the bottle of wine and two boxes full of snacks.

You took this moment to lay down, the fluffy material of the towel soft like feathers around your heated body.

“Shall we swim first or...?” Your boyfriend’s voice made you jump out of your reverie and you sat up straight, eyes panicked.

“I didn’t bring my swimsuit, Jaebum.” The boy had kept the place secret, not giving any hints.

“...and?” he asked as if he had never heard such a stupid question. Your mouth took the shape of a small coin and you saw his very one turning into a huge smile.

“I didn’t bring one either anyways.” He stated, already taking off his large tee-shirt.

So this is where he was going. You were not that surprised anyway, because coming from Jaebum, it was like a simple cuddle on a Sunday morning.

Except it involved two naked body in a public place, no matter how deserted.

“I don’t think we should...I could keep my...” You tried, because who knew, who knew what could happen? If another person was to pass by you’d die of embarrassment.

“Your clothes are gonna take forever to dry, babe.” He answered and finished opening the wine bottle, handing it for you to taste.

You took a sip; aware it wasn’t the best way to appreciate wine and continued “But we can’t go naked!”

Jaebum’s deep laugh made you roll your eyes “Why not? The place’s empty. Get up!” he took the bottle and drank rapidly before settling it against a small rock behind you two.

A second later, his short and boxer were on the floor, and his body was greeted by the wind and exposed for all to see, included your stunned eyes.

“You’re crazy.” You breathed and saw him walk toward the shore, his toned butt dancing with every step and increasing an unintentional blush across your cheeks.

“Come on! The water’s great!” His feet kicked the small waves, splashing water and he continued walking in, his body slowly disappearing into the dark depths of the sea.

You looked around once more and slowly took off your tank top, while Jaebum started swimming, his hair slicked back by water. You made a face and quickly took off your short and underwear, almost running to the water and toward a laughing Jaebum.

“You’re going to fall, babe.” He stated when he heard you swear, your body disappearing in your turn and leaving only your head out of the black swaying water.

“I can’t believe I’m naked in the middle of night. What if somebody steal our stuff?” Panicking was your style, and Jaebum knew it way too much to let himself fall into your mother-like frenzy behavior. You threw a glance to the abandoned squat and sighed, hoping that Jaebum wasn’t going nuts for good.

“Relax, nobody’s going to come...” You felt a body behind you, and soon enough, you were seated in the water, your feet into the sludge while Jaebum was hugging you from behind.

It felt soft under your toes, and his lap welcomed your bottom, making you sit on him like a child. The tip of his hair drew incoherent pattern on your skin when he started kissing your nape, arms locked around you like a rubber ring you didn’t need.

The calmness of the water was helping you both keeping some stance, and the soft waves were revealing your breast, hit by the wind and free of movement.

Jaebum looked like he noticed, because he started swimming deeper into the sea, your body upon his while his arms were guiding both of you to a way darker place. Your wet hair was cupping your face, strands wild and disheveled.

His mouth was close to your ear when the arms made you turn around to face him. Your feet weren’t touching the bottom but he was standing in front of you. He lifted both of your legs to make them circle around you and you felt all his hard glory brush against your most private parts, making you hiss and pulling a smile off his not so peaceful face.

You took it as a sign to cling on to him, keeping your body at the surface and he started rocking back and forth, your face nuzzled deep into his neck.

“How do you like it?” He asked and it made you wonder why on earth was he so keen on asking if you felt okay today. Not that he wasn’t that considerate usually, he was just less...blunt about it.

“I love it. You’re acting different, today.” You asked, aware that he wouldn’t be able to deny it.

“Yeah?” He asked, falsely surprised. His hands caressing your back started cupping your face and his eyes entered you like a laser into a dark room, shiny and sharp.

“Yeah. Don’t act surprised.” You mocked and he laughed, acquiescing.

“I thought about doing something different, that’s it.”

“And why is that?” You continued your teasing, because Jaebum was way too honest to hide anything anyways.

“I want to unveil all the sides of me.” He stated and your head tilted, puzzled. He took it as a sign to explain more.

“I want you to know every single thing about me. Until now, I had barely showed anything romantic. I want to give you everything, this included. This way you won’t get tired of me and my nasty personality.” He said and you we sure you saw a spark of insecurity in his eyes.

“There’s no way I’d get tired of such a great person.” He scoffed and walked toward the shore, supporting your body light like a ball of cotton in his large arms.

“There no such thing as forever if we don’t put in some individual efforts.” He added and you found yourself completely naked in his arms, like a toddler, in the middle of a deserted cove.

“Keeping the passion up tension?” He slowly crouched on the sand and laid down, your body over him like a soft silky sheet and he hummed.

“It’s not about passion. It’s about me being worthy of your love.” He said, pulling on your head to kiss your face.

“You’re being incredibly mushy, Im Jaebum.” His body was wet and slippery under yours and you planted your feet into the sand, creating contact with his body.

“Want me to stop then?” he asked and his lips met yours in a short kiss. Hands were cupping everywhere they could, kneading the cool flesh.

“I want you to do whatever you’re comfortable with.” You concluded and he smiled against you, tongue licking your mouth completely and taking you off guard.

“Then there’s something I’d be comfortable with, right now.” He said and you finally noticed how hard his body was.

“Here is the Jaebum I know.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” Came the whispered complaint.

The bottle of wine was long forgotten, just like the clothes around it when two bodies met, adding to the radiant heat overwhelming the already saturated air around them.

“I love you, babe.” Echoed in a long breath, short and halting against wet skin.

“Me too, Jae.”

[track-three]

a little bit of journal-ing/personal posting/positivity on where i am n how far things have come

so...it’s more than halfway through 2017, and i’ve just suddenly sat and thought about how much things have changed for me since this time two years ago.

two years ago - i was with my ex, with all our plans for the future finally so close! i was still studying my undergraduate degree, at the very tail end, biting my nails every 5 seconds wondering if i had the marks to get into medicine. i was working my ass off trying to keep ahead of the pack academically, trying to keep my relationship on track, trying to hold everything together how i wanted it. 

(which is ironic, because looking back, when i’m in “everything must stay like THIS and i will move heaven and earth to keep my life together” mode...it usually means my life is not as great as i think it is, and am so determined to keep it, in those times.)

thing was, i’m not sure it was how i wanted it. it was so difficult to work around our combined circumstances (long story) to see my partner, even to talk, and after four years it wasn’t getting any easier. i didn’t see how any of our grand plans would come together if these little daily bits of life were so hard. the collar i wore meant so much to me, but it started to hurt more than it made me happy, because i’d not practiced what it stood for months at a time.

i vividly remember finally, finally getting the news i’d made it in to my #1 uni for graduate medicine - a week later than that news was supposed to be delivered. i was in the middle of exam period, dosed up on valium because i was a wreck of panic! i couldn’t study, couldn’t sleep, exams i had to pass (and do well in) just days away. and then, finally. everything i’d worked for nonstop for 4 years, it all worked out! all i wanted was to celebrate with the girl i loved - but she couldn’t come see me, because she couldn’t justify visiting me to her (abusive) parents. 

i remember coming home to an empty house. my parents were overseas, my girlfriend absent and me mad at her, and i just thought - i should kill myself, right now. i had everything i’d ever wanted for the last 5 years of my life, and i have never felt so fucking alone.

a month or so later, us both on holidays, i drew the line in the sand with my ex. a couple weeks after that, we broke up.

and so began 2016. after four years, speaking to each other every day, spending my life with my best friend always by my side, her name physically written into me, i didn’t know what to make of life by myself. sometimes, i still don’t.

i hadn’t thought breaking up would mean losing my friend, too. after all, we’d promised to the end of the world and back that would never happen. i suppose if any of those promises had lasted, we wouldn’t have broken up in the first place. but, they didn’t, and i did - lose my friend, that is. no matter how cute or meaningful you think making koschei and theta your pet names is, don’t do it because that’s a self fulfilling prophecy right there

but see - this is where this post stops being a pile of angst. first of all - you know what? i was sad, i was really sad. but being sad, grieving somebody i deeply and truly loved, it felt ten times better than being abandoned, being alone, being depressed. it hurt, but it hurt because it came from a place that was so important and good. i won’t say that year wasn’t hard for me, but it was so much better than i expected because of that. 

second of all - in healing, i did the best thing i’ve ever done for myself. i got out and joined the kink scene, and i met this...beautiful, wonderful, vibrant community of people. you have no idea! they are so inclusive, they are all unique and fascinating, they are all welcoming and they will stick by you unconditionally. i’ve never had a community before, i’ve never even had a place i could call home! now i have community leaders offering me their couches if i ever need them, i have met so many incredible new friends...i haven’t! made new friends! since my ex and i got together!! and now i have dozens of them, and we text and chat, and they are there for me whenever and whatever i need. they are the family i’ve always wanted.

thirdly - i got out and did things i’ve never even dreamed i could do. i’ve always been a gleeful masochist, and now i’m an adventurous masochist. things that were strictly fantasy, things totally beyond what i thought i could do, are now treasured experiences. i swear: i was more proud, more elated, more happy with myself when i first played with a spiked mace than i ever was getting into medicine. because i had two beautiful tops, twenty amazing people standing by and supporting me, i had the entire community cheering for me. that’s what it’s supposed to feel like.  fourth - i’m taking med school in my stride, as hard as i can. am i brilliant at it? no, not exactly, but i’m pretty damn good. med school means taking the top 3% of the entire country, all of them people who achieve >90% on most things, and spreading them out on a bell curve. and it’s hard to be proud of myself for being “just” above average in a cohort like that, but i am.

and now? oh. my. god.

 a) i’m at my dream hospital, and it’s hard work and terrifying more often than not, but the things i’ve done! the cases i’ve seen! the patients i’ve met?? medicine is only getting more and more intimidating, but i do like what i do. i think i really do like it. and i’m doing better than i expected at it. b) working on my mental health! there are bad nights, but they are so much fewer than they used to be. and i have a good specialist and a path forwards, and that means a lot. c) i’ve reconnected with lovely, dear friends d) i’ve made med friends! i have the coolest group of buddies despite us all being people who probably would never have picked each other as mates. i’ve never had a...group before, it feels crazy, but it’s great! shoutout to one particular human who is basically one of the best friends i’ve ever met, and has kept me going. e) i’ve thrown myself back into fandom! and once again - met people, made friends, contributed, done things. my lil niche corner is more active than ever, and i love it. so, in retrospect - sometimes, i still feel adrift. i still don’t quite have all the parts of my puzzle together, and it feels sad knowing that lots of the pieces that do fit today were shaped by a person who doesn’t want to be in my life anymore. i still care a lot - i always will. 

but i am so, so grateful for where i am today. i am so grateful for having a life that is so full and rich from multiple directions. i am so grateful for the new and wonderful people in my life that i never expected to find! i’m grateful that there is so much for me to look forward to: there’s new tenth doctor stuff coming out (ha, top of the list!), there’s a world of kinky stuff i’ve yet to try, there’s only 2 years until i become a Real Certified Doctor (what?!), there’s heaps on the list!

i look back at that feeling: “i have everything i’ve ever wanted, and i still want to die” - is it different, now? sometimes, no it is not. but the change is this: i know now that “everything i’ve ever wanted” is...so much bigger than i thought it was. there is a world of life around the corner i hadn’t envisioned. i didn’t know it at the time, but i was boxed in. i’m out of my box now, and if that sentiment has changed, it’s because i know there is so much more stuff out there waiting.

so this is me: being grateful, and hopeful about my future. this is my note to early-2016!me, who couldn’t imagine what that might feel like. it’s different than you thought it would feel, but it’s good. :)

[not-a-space-alien]

Aziraphale’s Legion, Part 11: Bloodbath

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Series masterpost

On AO3

Warnings for this chapter: Take a wild guess buddy (it’s blood/gore)

Let me tell you about Michael’s sword.

An angel or demon’s weapon is powered by their aura, an extension of their celestial or infernal essence.  As a principality, Aziraphale’s weapon is versatile and simply enough to get the job done, but Michael’s, the metonymical sword of Heaven, is in another class altogether. It is the only sword worthy of Heaven’s mightiest warrior, heavy silver steel embossed with holy iconography with a jeweled handle, longer than the bodies of some very short demons.  Michael is the only one capable of wielding such an object. It is the ultimate holy weapon, capable of instantly obliterating out of existence any demon it kills, whether in a corporation or not.  Its reflection burns with a divine fire that any demon can feel coming by the hairs standing up on their neck.  It is the only thing in the universe that can keep up with Michael’s unquenchable thirst for blood.

It was also the first thing Oryss saw when she tiptoed up onto the roof, a small plate in her hands.

“Michael?” she called out, her animalistic eyes dilating to let her see in the dark.  “We were just putting everything away, and I noticed you hadn’t eaten anything.  So I thought you might like…”

She trailed off when she saw the look Michael had on his face.

“Oryss, get back!” Angelo screamed.

Michael’s sword came out of its sheath in a second, slamming through her chest and appearing from the other side, spearing her, the surprise and light fading from her eyes as the life drained from her body.

Blood spattered off the blade as he withdrew it.  He turned and dove off the roof, pulling in his enormous wings to spin around and angle towards the front of the shop.

Crowley was giggling beside him.  He might have been laughing about the fact that two of Heaven’s mightiest warriors had gotten stuck doing the dishes, but he could also have been laughing because he was drunk, and he made delightful and funny sounds when he was drunk.

Aziraphale tugged him into the bedroom, feeling hands under his clothes in darkness.  They shut the door without even turning on the lights to see what was happening.

“I love you,” said Crowley.

“I love you.”

A noise suddenly banged rapidly at the window.  The lights snapped on miraculously, and Aziraphale and Crowley disentangled themselves from each other, trying to smooth down their hair and straighten their clothes.

The window squeaked open and Angelo appeared.  There was blood splattered across his face.  “We have a problem.”

Botis had rushed upstairs as soon as he heard the noise.  Another demon collided with him full-tilt.  Since Botis was the one in armor, the other was the one who got hurt, and she sat rubbing her nose for a moment before getting up again and bolting out the door, shouting “Run!”

“What?” said Botis, bewildered.  

He could feel an angelic presence coming near, and it was frenzied with wild emotions.  Botis drew his sword, gripping it with two shaking hands, focused on the corner, feeling it getting nearer and nearer—

Rosia rounded the corner, pulling Rava.

“Somebody, you scared me,” said Botis, exhaling.

“Botis, something’s happening,” said Rosia.  “Oryss is dead, someone’s—”

A huge bang resounded nearby, the sound of steel splintering wood.

“Get behind me,” said Botis.

Botis had been a warrior angel before he fell, a power like Victoria as a matter of fact.  He had used his infernal weapon for its purpose of killing angels exactly once, a few years after the creation of the Earth.  He had convinced the higher-ups he would be more useful as a field agent shortly afterwards and hadn’t used his sword for an actual fight since then.  It had always felt wrong in his hands.

But he was ready to use it again.  Now he had someone behind him who needed protecting.  He would give it his best shot.

“I am the sword of Heaven,” boomed a voice, accompanied by another bang.  “The bearer of divine wrath.”

Botis knew then that he was going to die.  It was too late to run, because he could hear booted footsteps rapidly approaching and the scraping of a sword that was too long tearing wallpaper off.

“Michael got an order to kill all the demons here,” said Angelo.

“What?” said Aziraphale. “Surely he wouldn’t go through with it?”

“Aziraphale,” said Angelo.

“He hasn’t…?” said Crowley.

“He has.  Please, we need to hurry up.”

“Aziraphale!” said Victoria, appearing in the doorway.  She had Noah by the arm.  “We’re under attack. I figured Noah was the target so I brought him—”

“It’s not a demon,” said Angelo.  “It’s Michael.”

“Oh no,” said Victoria, the colour draining from her face.

“Okay, okay,” said Aziraphale.  “It’s good you brought him, this way he’s safe.  Angelo, let’s go find Michael and convince him to stop.”

“You and Crowley should try the roof,” said Angelo.

“The roof?”

He hesitated briefly. “Oryss is still up there…”

“Oh somebody,” breathed Crowley.

“Crowley, maybe you can still save her…”

“Right,” said Crowley. “Aziraphale, we go up to the roof. Angelo, go into the shop. Victoria, stay here with Noah.

“Right.”

“Victoria.” Aziraphale pinned her with a glare. “Stay here with him.”

Victoria got an irritated look on her face.  “Aziraphale, go.”

They dissipated in flurry of motion.  Crowley and Aziraphale tore their wings out to get up to the roof faster.

“Oh, no,” said Aziraphale when they got up there and saw the body lying skewed on the floor.

Crowley knelt and took Oryss in his arms.  “She’s already dead.”

“Here,” Aziraphale said, finding a piece of parchment, showing it to Crowley.

To the archangel Michael,

The demonic forces around Aziraphale represent a rising safety hazard.  You are hereby ordered to destroy all infernal agents on the premises.

-The archangel Gabriel.

Crowley took the corner of the parchment, his other arm still around Oryss.  “But…why?”

“This is Gabriel’s signature,” said Aziraphale.  “And his seal.  But he hasn’t taken notice of this before!  Why would he start now?  And to just order mass slaughter…”

Aziraphale’s gaze suddenly jumped into sharp focus on Crowley’s hand on the corner of the paper. “Crowley.”

Crowley seemed to realize what he was doing and removed his hand.

“This isn’t from Heaven,” said Aziraphale.  “Your hand would be burning if it was.  This isn’t from Gabriel.”

“Someone must have a copy of his seal,” said Crowley.  “Or a stolen one.  But who would have that?  And be able to forge his signature?”

Aziraphale gasped and grabbed Crowley’s arm, dragging him back towards the stairs.  “We need to get back inside now.”

“What?”

“Kabata.”

Noah was crying. Victoria was desperately trying to comfort him, but she herself was acutely freaked out and that made things difficult.

“There, there,” she said, which was something she had an idea you were supposed to say to crying humans.

“I’m scared,” said Noah.

Victoria looked out the open window and grimaced.   “Me too, kid.”

“Gabriel and Michael are the same rank!” said Aziraphale as they hustled back down the fire escape. “Surely Michael could have contended the orders.”

“You know he wouldn’t want to,” said Crowley.

“Kabata can’t get into the shop,” said Aziraphale.  “He has to stay out.  As long as we can keep Noah away from him, we can keep the situation under control.  We have to try and find Michael before this goes any farther.”

They reached the open window.  Aziraphale swooped back into the bedroom, only to realize that Crowley had not followed him and was dithering on the windowsill.

“Come on,” he snapped. “What’s the problem?”

“The glyphs won’t let me in.”

Aziraphale cursed and used his powers to wipe a hole in the sigils that would allow him entry.

The second the supernatural wall around the window went down, a pair of red eyes appeared directly behind Crowley.  Singed wings spread wide on either side of him, accompanied by the shing of a sword coming out of its scabbard.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale screamed.

Here is how Crowley knew Victoria had meant what she said earlier about saving his life again in a heartbeat: she hurled herself out the window, battering Crowley to the floor and out of the path of the swipe of the sword.  Her own sword was halfway out of its sheath when she reached Kabata.

She could not bring it up fast enough to stop the blow from hitting her.  And she was only a power against an archdemon’s aura, even one who was not warrior-class.  The infernal weapon hit her full force, and Kabata spun and pushed her as she reached him, using her own moment to propel her over the railing.  Her body and her decapitated head both tumbled off the balcony, plunging out of sight.

Noah let out a cry of distress.  Kabata’s eyes swiveled towards him.

Aziraphale was stuck in place by those burning eyes.  Kabata looked so eerily similar, yet so, so different.  His skin was so white it almost looked like it had been bleached, red veins crisscrossing its surface.  His hair was white now as well, which contrasted sharply with the pair of coal-black horns spiraling out from it.  And Aziraphale could not bring himself to process what he was seeing as the archdemon who had once been his commander and friend flicked the blood of an angel Camael had valued so much off his sword, stepping into the window through the hole Aziraphale had just made.

Crowley, mercifully ignored, scrabbled to his feet.

Noah gave another frightened wail as the archdemon scooped him up with one enormous paw.  Aziraphale suddenly realized he needed to do something.

Kabata leapt back out the window and out of the angel’s grasp.

“Come back here,” Aziraphale said angrily, materializing his sword.

He gave a startled shout as he was tackled to the ground from an unexpected angle, the bedroom tumbling around in his vision.  He pushed his assailant away, but by the time he righted himself, Kabata and Noah were gone.

The weight holding him down disappeared.  Anger flared inside him when saw that it was Crowley who had stopped him.

“What did you do that for?” Aziraphale said, giving him a shove.  “He’s taken Noah!”

“Have you already forgotten how we got our asses handed to us last time we met him?” Crowley yelled. “He’s still an archdemon.  He just murdered Victoria.  You wouldn’t have accomplished anything except getting yourself killed.”

Aziraphale knew that he was right, and hated it.  “Come on, let’s—”

A scream split the air, nearby but muffled by walls.  It dissolved into sobbing.

They had to write Noah off as a lost cause.  They had failed.  They had to do what they could.

“We have to try and find Michael and stop this before anyone else dies,” said Aziraphale.

They found the source of the scream a moment later when they came out into the hallway: Rosia, clutching a destroyed body that must have once been Rava.

They both stared at her with horror, stared until they noticed the decapitated body of Botis nearby, and then stared at that.

“What….what do we do?” said Crowley.  “Oh my god, what do we do?”

“Master!” called a voice. Adramelech appeared in the doorway a moment later, dragging Abraxas, who was missing both her legs and disgorging blood at an alarming rate.  “Master, please help!”

“I’ll take care of this,” said Crowley.  Adramelech dropped Abraxas down, and Crowley let his oft-unused healing powers flow through him, staunching the blood and mending the wound as fast as he could.

“Master, what should I do?” said Adramelech.  His cheeks were smeared with tear streaks of mascara.

“Adramelech, run,” said Crowley.  “Just get as far away as you can.”

“I can’t leave you,” said Adramelech, dismayed.  “That’s cowardice.”

“That’s an order, Adramelech,” said Aziraphale.  “There’s nothing you can do right now.”

Adramelech looked at them through eyes barely holding back tears, then leapt to the window, spread his wings, and disappeared into the night.

“Angel, Abraxas is going to die if I leave her,” said Crowley.  “Go find Michael.”

“No,” said Aziraphale. “We have to stay together.”

“I’m not going to let her die,” snapped Crowley.  “And the longer you stand here doing nothing, the longer Michael has to rampage.  Go.”

Aziraphale realized he was right, took a deep breath, whirled around, and took off.

As promised, Maltha had sobered up at the drop of a hat.  And now that she had gotten Beth safely out of the way, she could do as she said she would if Michael hurt any of these demons.

Despite Michael’s reputation, Maltha was never afraid of him.  She was not afraid of anyone.  Because God had given her domain over life itself and had then been foolish enough to sever her from her celestial role, which meant she could use it however she pleased.

Her staff sizzled and vibrated in her hand as she summoned it, already pouring smoke and liquid death by the force of her rage.  Lesser demons scrambled to get out of her way.  Her fully manifested claws scraped the wood floor as she moved forwards, an angry, deliberate figure moving against the tide of panicked bodies fleeing in the same direction.

Two celestial figures blocked her way, swords drawn.  It was the two warrior angels who had volunteered to support her against Agares.

Maltha let out a fearsome hiss, her voice booming and warping as she said, “You would turn on me so quickly?”

“I’m sorry, Maltha,” said one of the angels.  “Michael is carrying out his orders, and it’s our job to assist him.  We can’t let you interfere.”

“You intend to strike me down so that Michael can slaughter those you were just dining with peacefully? Why?”

Neither of them looked very pleased about it, but nevertheless they stood their ground. “It is our duty.  Someone must do it.”

“I’ll have you know no one has ever betrayed me and lived.”

They both leveled their swords at her.  

The first second of their fight consisted of Maltha moving as a blur to the side, flanking the angels and putting one angel between herself and the other so they could not both attack her at once.

In the next second, Maltha’s staff came up and clashed against the sword of the angel closest to her to a shower of sparks. Simultaneously, her aura surged outwards, pressing against the angel.

Maltha had a very good imagination, and she was using it to imagine some very nasty things indeed.

In the next second, Maltha’s staff slid down the angel’s sword, parried away, but it just barely brushed against his leg.

Had her weapon been a sword, it would have only been a small cut, but the contact was enough. Maltha’s aura broke through as a torrent, seizing the warrior from head to toe, and by the look on his face he could tell he had made a grave mistake it was too late to correct.

Maltha squeezed.

The angel cried out in pain as every bone in his body snapped simultaneously. He fell to the floor just as the second angel reached Maltha, but the warrior made the fatal error of being surprised by her companion’s sudden destruction and therefore not bringing her sword up fast enough.

Maltha visualized a severance of the neck this time, and swung her staff like a baseball bat, knocking the warrior’s head completely off.

Her body collapsed next to her companion, who was still moving feebly.  Maltha stepped forwards and crushed his head with one clawed foot, sneering, and he fell still.

She looked up to see that a trio of warrior angels had been watching her this whole time, unsure of what to do.  She flared her feathers out, voice erupting like a volcano.  “Anyone else?”

They all drew back.

“Then stand out of the way.”

They let her pass. She strode past them with determined steps.

Her skin began to smoke, transforming with her anger.  She coughed, and embers spewed out.  She had not taken this form since she had fought with Satan.

“Michael!” she screamed, a warbled crow’s call, booming throughout the entire block, laced with poisonous infernal fire.

“I tried to get out of the way…”

“Don’t try and talk,” said Crowley.  “I’ve got you.  I won’t let you die.”

Abraxas closed her eyes, breathing shallowly.  Rosia was still crying in the corner.

Crowley heard a trill, and Mittens appeared, nosing at Abraxas’s hand. “Hey, look who it is,” said Crowley.  “Wouldn’t be a party without Mittens.”

“Hey, girl,” said Abraxas, and then coughed up more blood.

Mittens suddenly hissed, dashing away and pressing herself against the wall.

Michael had appeared in the hallway, drenched in blood, his sword dragging on the ground.  

Crowley remained where he was with his hands in Abraxas’s wounds, frozen with fear, his gaze on the greaves on Michael’s shins.  Abraxas spluttered.

There were heavy footsteps as Michael’s boots came closer to him.  Crowley’s eyes remained locked on the greaves, which were now a foot from his face.

Everything was silent, except for Rosia, who was still crying.

Crowley dared crane his neck to look into Michael’s eyes.  The archangel had a lopsided grin on his face and tapped Crowley’s arm with the flat of his sword.  “Hey, what’s that look for?”

Crowley did not respond, thinking that surely Michael should recognize fear of death when he saw it.

“You think I’d forget, Crowley?  Come on. You’re a celestial agent.  You got a commendation from Heaven and everything.”

“Oh,” said Crowley weakly. “Ha ha, yeah, I guess you’re—”

Crowley whipped his hands away and protected his head as Michael’s sword came down, piercing Abraxas’s chest and thumping into the floorboards beneath her.  The demon jerked, gasping.

Abraxas let out one final moan of pain as the blade withdrew from her body, then fell still.  Crowley could not remove his gaze from her face, which had gone slack, eyes unfocused starting back at him.

“You know, Crowley,” said Michael, squatting down, and Crowley looked back to him with terror. “Gabriel didn’t want to give you a commendation, but Raphael and I made him.”

He spoke as though he weren’t standing over the battered remains of someone Crowley had just been trying to save.  He brought his blade up over his thigh and wiped blood off it with one hand.  “I told Gabriel you should get one even though you were a demon. That seems fair, doesn’t it?  Just because you’re a demon doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a commendation.”

Crowley watched in horror as Michael idly licked blood off his thumb as he spoke.  “You know?” the archangel continued, as though he wanted a response.

Crowley was afraid that if he tried to dart away, Michael would act on reflex and skewer him.  “Y-yeah,” he managed.  “Th-thanks.”

A feline hiss sounded behind them.  Michael looked over his shoulder to see Mittens was still staring him down, hackles raised.

“Hey Mittens,” said Michael, dragging his blade behind him as he teetered over to her.  He put one hand on her flank to pet her, and she hissed fiercely and swatted at him, but her claws fell harmlessly on his armored gloves.

Crowley sat there with his hands on his knees, looking at Abraxas’s body, listening to Rosia crying.

“Michael!” said a very loud, wrathful noise, and Michael’s head snapped upwards.

The wall suddenly groaned, snapped, and tore inwards as though a train had barreled through it. A monster appeared to grab Michael’s throat, an enormous birdlike creature with eyes glowing red like two hot coals, black feathers roiling and smoking and boiling, radiating heat and fire and anger.

Michael jumped back and away, lifting his sword up, his eyes widening and his face breaking into a delighted grin.

Crowley knew exactly what was going to happen.  Maltha and Michael were going to fight until one of them was dead, possibly destroying the shop in the process, possibly killing any bystanders who got in their way in the process, and possibly leaving them open to attack from hordes of demons who suddenly found a way at the targets that had previously been unavailable in the process.

He had to stop them. If he could get Michael to understand what had happened maybe he would stop, and maybe he could get Maltha to calm down if Michael stopped attacking.

Maltha’s maw opened, a black abyss lined with sharp white teeth dripping tar, and dark fog snorted from her nostrils.  “You will not kill again.”

“Come at me, then,” said Michael, extending his sword.

“Wait!” said Crowley.

Maltha took one step back, a fighting stance, and then launched herself, tackling Michael and driving him through the opposite wall and out of sight, leaving a trail of burnt wood in her wake.

Crowley found the strength to move, then, and hustled to follow them.

The complex made by the bookshop, second floor, and adjacent flat had not really seemed all that big before, and yet Aziraphale still found himself unable to pin down Michael’s location in it.

He told himself he would be able to just follow the trail of destruction, but the problem was the destruction was everywhere.  Michael was apparently moving very fast, making circles, and sometimes going through walls.

Bodies already littered the floor.  The fact that they were not all demons told him someone was already putting up a fight, and he had an idea of who it was.  He had to stop Maltha and Michael before those two titans locked onto each other, or they might not be able to pull them apart again.

He stumbled into the bookshop and found the couple he had caught in the closet cowering behind an overturned shelf.  The angel was on top of the demon, glaring at him and hugging her close protectively.

“Where’s Michael?”

“Don’t know,” said the angel.  “Been hiding.”

“Michael!” boomed a furious voice, rattling the windowpanes.

“No,” said Aziraphale. He left the couple and dashed towards the source of the voice.  “No, no, no…”

He found the two of them fighting in the flat, which was already completely destroyed, already entrenched in combat.

“Michael!” shouted Aziraphale, straining to be heard over the sounds of the clash and desperately trying to come up with something that would grab their attention.  “Maltha!  Stop!”

Crowley appeared behind them from the next room, looking at them with apprehension, apparently trying to figure out the same thing as him.

Michael’s sword made enormous clangs as it bashed against Maltha’s staff, and with each blow Maltha let out a pressurized sizzle like a machine venting steam, working methodically, getting closer and closer to Michael, pushing him back.  The archangel looked like he was living, an expression of excitement taking over all his features.  Maltha, by contrast, looked absolutely hell-bent on murder.  But both of them looked like they wouldn’t stop for anything.

“Maltha, stop!” said Crowley, drawing dangerously close to the fight, waving his arms.

“Crowley, be careful!” said Aziraphale, trying to edge in, but jumping back because of the swinging weapons.  Both of the combatants ignored them, totally focused on one another, weapons whirling almost too fast to follow.

“You’re going to get us all killed, you bloody morons!” Crowley yelled.

“Crowley, step back!” Aziraphale called, now focused on how alarmingly near Crowley was to Maltha and the swinging weapons.

“Michael, hold on—” began Crowley, but Michael had drawn back his sword and launched it at Maltha full speed.

Michael’s sword is the ultimate demon-killing weapon.  This blow had been intended for the archdemon and was delivered with full force.

What I am trying to say is that when it accidentally hit Crowley instead, it killed him instantly.

Michael didn’t see him or how close he was; his blade deflected off Maltha’s staff and slid directly into the lesser demon.  Aziraphale saw it coming a split-second before it happened and tried to make a move to stop it, but could not move fast enough.  Crowley himself did not seem to see it coming until the sword was spearing through him.  Maltha was the first one to realize what had happened and fizzled out into human form, her face turning to horror and shock.  Michael did not seem to understand until he saw who his sword had skewered.

“Oh no,” he said, pulling his sword out, Crowley falling to the floor.

“Look what you’ve done!” Maltha screamed.  “What did you—”

“Maltha!” said Aziraphale rushing over, kneeling, and picking up Crowley’s body.  The demon’s head hung limply.

“It wasn’t my fault!” she said.  “I didn’t—”

“Maltha!” he yelled again, and then she seemed to realize what he meant.  She knelt beside him and took Crowley, stretched him out, and put her hands on him.

“Come on, come on,” said Aziraphale, watching the healing power flowing through him, but not feeling any resurgence of his life force.

Michael seemed like he was just now realizing what it was he had been doing; he looked in a daze, staring at Crowley.

“I didn’t mean to,” said Michael.

“Well, you did,” snapped Aziraphale.  “Now get back!  You bloody animal!”

Michael stood by them, dumbfounded, seemingly unsure of what to do.

“Get away,” said Aziraphale. “Just get out!  Leave!”

Michael sheathed his sword, spread his wings, and disappeared out through the hole he and Maltha had torn in the wall.  Angelo finally appeared, far too late to do anything, and took in the scene for one moment before leaping out to follow him.

The gaping wound stretching from Crowley’s sternum down to his stomach began to writhe and slither back together under Maltha’s hands.  The glassy, unfocused look in his half-lidded eyes did not go away.

“Don’t just heal his corporation,” said Aziraphale.  “Heal him.”

“I’m trying,” said Maltha, tears beginning to well in her eyes.  “Aziraphale, I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t apologize,” Aziraphale snapped.  “Focus.”

“I can’t feel him at all,” said Maltha.

“Try harder!”

“He’s not there!”

“He’s still in there!”

The wound closed up. Crowley did not begin to move.

“Come on, come on,” said Aziraphale.  “Crowley! Wake up!”

Maltha removed her bloody hands from Crowley’s body.  “Aziraphale.”

“No,” said Aziraphale. “Don’t.  Keep going.”

“Aziraphale.”

“Wake up!  Wake up, damn you!”

“Aziraphale, he’s….”

“Don’t.”

“He was already dead. He’s dead.”

The two stared at each other from across Crowley’s body.

“What good are you!” Aziraphale exploded, elbowing her out of the way and cradling Crowley’s body. “All your boasting and prideful words! And you can’t even do one simple thing!”

Maltha shifted backwards and hid her face in her hands.

“You do nothing but talk about what a powerful demon and healer you are!  But what have you ever done?  Who have you ever actually helped?”

“My healer,” she sobbed. “My poor healer.”

“Master…” said a voice.

Aziraphale looked up and saw through vision blurred with tears that demons were easing out from hiding towards him.  A few angels hesitated in the doorway, looking at him with equally distressed expressions.

“Get out!” Aziraphale yelled.  “Get out! All of you!  I can’t even look at you right now!”

“Aziraphale…” Maltha said.

“Get out!  Everybody get out now!  I want everyone gone!”

Maltha stood.  “If that’s what you really want.”

She was gone with a rustle of wings.  The angels backed out without comment.  The demons whispered rapidly to each other back and forth, but eventually drew back into the shadows.

Aziraphale slid his hands under Crowley’s limp body and pressed his face into his chest.

His heartbeat was silenced.  But he was still warm.  

Aziraphale let the tears flow as he felt demonic and angelic presences winking out of the shop.  The fires in the shop set during the fight were extinguished seemingly of their own accord, as if somebody’s afterthought.  Then it was just him.  Alone.

He squeezed Crowley tighter, holding him, refusing to entertain the notion that his body heat would fade eventually.

He sobbed.  He had no idea how long that lasted.  He quit when he had no more tears left.

He withdrew his face. Crowley was still motionless.  His eyes had fallen closed.  He looked like he was sleeping.

Aziraphale gathered him up, holding him as tightly to himself as he could, and walked over to the bedroom.  He set Crowley on his side of the bed, arranging his head on the pillow.  Then he stretched out next to him, one hand on his shoulder, holding onto every bit of his body heat as it slowly dwindled and finally vanished, leaving him cold, colder than even a reptile should be.

[rattlesnek]

ALL ODDS

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you? Yeah ever since learning about the philosophical zombie in class... but like.... who cares3. The person you would never want to meet? There are some types of people I just can’t stand to be around but if you’re reading this you aren’t one5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be? some fuckin pine tree7. What shirt are you wearing? Powells City of Books shirt with a dragon on it9. Bright room or dark room? Already answered11. Favorite age you’ve been so far? I mean as much as growing up sucks it also is pretty good, can’t wait to be 1813. Your worst enemy? @lochnessmonster15. Do you like someone? not really even though I’m hella lonely17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up? mike pence19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do? idk i’m not really into the whole slavery thing? But I have some chores they could do. Or my cat and i’d make her stay off my FUCKING BED21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do? idk rounder face with smaller features and probably no boobs :( but you KNOW what the fuck I’d do23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of? I hate the idea of loose teeth and pulling teeth a LOT25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it? I need a new bulb for my gecko’s lamp and a new wallet27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be? uuh I don’t drink but I like the flavor of beers, like IPAs29. What is your favorite expletive? lol I probably say shit the most31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? accidentally said something incredibly rude to somebody w/o thinking, they didn’t care that much and I apologized a bunch but it still low key haunts me33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back? I haven’t had anybody significant to me die really, so Bowie maybe?35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]? I’m a good friend :)37. Have you ever built a snowman? Hell yeah, I built like a 10 ft high one once. It rarely snows here tho39. What type of music do you like? My music taste is super inconsistent but deathcore hasn’t been failing me recently41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor? Slut 4 chocolate43. Do you have any scars? some small ones from minor accidents45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? Not sure, maybe think about myself less? I feel like I can be kind of self-centered47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be? Is it worth it to continue on my current career path?49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create? Cat + snake to create the best pet possible51. Are you a good liar? NOPE53. What has been you worst haircut/style? trying to grow my hair out and getting a mullet55. Can you do any accents other than your own? not well57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of? a bunch of fuccin cactuses59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain. Not really, I just get clean?61. Do you often read your horoscope? I used to every day but now almost never63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons? Listen I love dinsoaurs as much as your average 3rd grader (a lot) but dragons are indisputably cooler65. What is your favourite holiday? love thos winter holidays (christmas is what we celebrate)

[conferencenotes-blog1]

The Sins of a Devil: MURDER

Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do. HE WAS A MURDERER FROM THE BEGINNING, and abode not in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own: for he is a liar, and the father of it.

John 8:44

Which none of the princes of this world knew: for had they known it, THEY WOULD NOT HAVE CRUCIFIED THE LORD of glory. 1 Corinthians 2:8

“One of you is a devil!” How can you know when someone is a devil? When somebody is a devil, he behaves exactly like the devil and kills people just as the devil did!

One of the greatest sins of Satan was to organise the murder of the Son of God. How could you kill the only begotten Son of God, the precious Lamb of God? What wickedness! What a cruel way to deal with the Saviour of the world! Watch out for those who hate Jesus Christ.

Watch out for those who hate Christianity and those who kill Christians. It is the same thing that the princes of this world did to the Son of God. We are children of God. The princes of this world are organising people to fight Christianity. Satan is inspiring people to kill Christians all over the world. The same spirit of Lucifer that organised religious men called Pharisees to kill the Son of God, is organising religious men to kill and murder Christians in different parts of the world.

It is the spirit of Satan that hates Christ and Christians. What you see today is merely a continuation of the crucifixion of the Son of God. When Saul persecuted Christians and killed believers, Jesus appeared to him and asked him, “Why are you persecuting me?” When you kill Christians you are persecuting Jesus Christ Himself! Men of religion have been used by Satan to kill, steal and destroy in the name of religion.

One of the most brutal sins of Satan is the sin of murder. The sin of murder is one of the most wicked activities of a devil. Until you have encountered the senseless murder of an innocent person, you may not understand how evil the sin of murder is. The devil was thrown out of heaven because he was a murderer. Satan has inspired countless numbers of people to become murderers. The devil directly inspires people to become killers. Wherever you see an increase in murder, armed robbery and terrorism, you are seeing an increase in satanic activity. Look at what happened to Job: And the LORD said unto Satan, Behold, all that he hath is in thy power; only upon himself put not forth thine hand. So Satan went forth from the presence of the LORD. And there was a day when his sons and his daughters were eating and drinking wine in their eldest brother’s house: And there came a messenger unto Job, and said, The oxen were plowing, and the asses feeding beside them:And the Sabeans fell upon them, and TOOK THEM AWAY; yea, they have SLAIN THE SERVANTS with the edge of the sword; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee.While he was yet speaking, there came also another, and said, The fire of God is fallen from heaven, and hath BURNED UP THE SHEEP, and the servants, and consumed them; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee.While he was yet speaking, there came also another, and said, The Chaldeans made out three bands, and fell upon the camels, and have CARRIED THEM AWAY, yea, and slain the servants with the edge of the sword; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee. While he was yet speaking, there came also another, and said, Thy sons and thy daughters were eating and drinking wine in their eldest brother’s house: And, behold, there came a great wind from the wilderness, and smote the four corners of THE HOUSE, AND IT FELL upon the young men, and they are dead; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee.

Job 1:12-19

The story above is a wonderful revelation of the satanic power behind robbery, killing, murder and destruction. As soon as Satan was released into the life of Job, several things happened physically. If you are spiritual, you will know that these events are caused by Satan and other demonic powers.

a. Stealing and armed robbery: Job’s oxen and asses were stolen by the armed Sabeans. b. Murder: Job’s servants were killed c. A fire outbreak: Job’s servants and sheep were burned d. The destruction of his transport business: Job’s camels were stolen and the servants killed. e. The destruction of property: Job’s eldest son’s house collapsed. f. Financial loss: Job’s businesses were destroyed. g. Family tragedy: Job’s children were killed.

All attacks on your life that involve stealing, killing and destruction are caused by the devil and his agents. Spending time to bind demonic powers and destroy their plans will protect you from such evil attacks. Men who go around stealing, killing and destroying are walking in the image of Satan and are inspired by the devil himself.

Demon-possessed men have no pity and compassion on the people they harm. Their pitiless hearts reveal the presence of darkness and devils. 

The thief cometh not, but for to STEAL, and to KILL, and to DESTROY: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly. John 10:10

When you deal with thieves, murderers and destroyers you are dealing with Satan himself. When you allow thieves and destroyers to prosper around you, you are allowing demonic activity to flourish. It is a great mistake for you to open yourself up to thieves and murderers. Deal with the devil in your life by dealing properly with thieves, murderers and destroyers.

The devil comes to steal, to kill and to destroy but Jesus comes to give life. Can Satan affect the circumstances in your life? Indeed, he can. There is enough evidence in the Bible to show that Satan can and does influence circumstances in this life. 

When Satan alters circumstances, it is to make them unfavourable, difficult and complicated for you. Most Christians do not realize that Satan is involved in manipulating situations and circumstances. Whenever there is a lot of stealing, killing and destroying you can be sure that demons are on the loose. One day, I saw a spiritual monkey sitting on the burglar-proofing of my window. This was a big monkey, unable to pass through the small holes. I was startled because I realised the creature was trying to enter my room but had been blocked. When your eyes are opened, you will see many creatures attempting to do various kinds of evil against you. They exist in the realm of the spirit and are trying to get to you.

Satan sought permission to attack Job and created a series of circumstances and events which affected Job’s life terribly. Each of the things that happened to Job was an occurrence in the natural, but orchestrated by Satan. If Satan could orchestrate them in the days of Job, then he can orchestrate similar events in today’s world. No one should tell me that Satan has no part in the circumstances of life. Satan can manipulate circumstances in an evil way against your life. I want you to notice all the different things that Satan orchestrated. They are all events that look natural but are manipulated by demons.

1. Satan caused the death of Job’s children. 2. Satan organized the killing of Job’s servants and workers. Satan is a murderer and the author of all forms of murder. Every nation that has a lot of murder has a strong presence of Satan. 3. Satan organized Sabean thieves to attack Job’s business of oxen and asses. 4. Satan organized Chaldean thieves to attack Job’s camel transport system. All the camels were stolen and Job was left without transport. 5. Satan caused a fire to burn down Job’s business of sheep farming and to kill all the workers. 6. Satan orchestrated and initiated financial difficulties in Job’s life by starting a fire that burnt down his business. 7. Satan arranged a great wind or storm to blow over Job’s house. Satan tampered with nature and the weather in order to destroy Job. 8. Satan caused the collapse of Job’s house. Satan physically attacked the home of God’s servant, causing it to collapse. 9. Satan caused the deaths of Job’s children in a freak accident when the house of his eldest son collapsed. 10. Satan orchestrated the funerals of many people in Job’s life. His servants, his children and his loved ones died. Job had no choice than to organize multiple funerals. 11. Satan caused Job to develop a serious illness.

These chronic illnesses which do not kill but harass, intimidate, frighten and threaten the life of people are evil things organized by the devil. Sickness in general, is caused by the devil. But there is a type of circumstance in which the person is greatly intimidated by the presence of a threatening illness. It is not an easy thing to be under threat of death. This is why it is a terrible experience to be on death row, expecting to die at any moment.

Today, there are many people who labour under the foreboding threat of illness and death. This circumstance is caused by Satan. This is what Satan did to Job. Job did not die from the illness that Satan put on him. God was protecting him and he was actually shielded from death.

Burning Down a Night Club

Always remember that Satan can tamper with circumstances so that he can oppose you, frighten you and ultimately destroy you. There was a pastor who struggled to minister in his own church. The atmosphere in the church was dead and anyone who preached there struggled to flow and to minister. Visiting ministers also struggled to flow and no one enjoyed ministering there. 

The pastor of the church decided to wait on the Lord about the atmosphere in his church. On the seventh day of his fast, he was kneeling on the stage about three feet behind the pulpit. When he looked up, directly above the pulpit, the ceiling had disappeared. Sitting in the ceiling rafters, directly above the pulpit was a huge spirit that looked like a baboon. He said to the creature, “You’re going to have to come down.” The spirit drew away as if he did not want to obey. 

He shouted, “You, come down in the name of Jesus!” This creature fell down onto the pulpit and then jumped onto the floor. The pastor then said to the evil spirit, “Get out of here.” The creature said nothing but looked at the pastor as if to say, “I don’t want to.” “Just march out of here in the name of Jesus,” he said. The baboon marched down off the platform and the pastor marched right behind him. He would go four or five steps and stop and look at the pastor, almost begging. He would not move until the pastor said, “No, go on in the name of Jesus.” They continued to go down the aisle, stopping every four to five steps. Finally, the pastor went ahead of the spirit and held the doors open. Still, the spirit would not go until he said, “In the name of Jesus!” Eventually, the spirit reluctantly moved out of the door. He went down the church steps and got halfway into the churchyard. He stopped again and the pastor had to command him to continue on out of the premises.

“I command you to leave this premises and never come back again in the name of Jesus.” The creature ran across the street and went about a quarter of a mile away from the church. The pastor then described how he watched the spirit run into a nightclub. The next night, to his amazement, the nightclub burnt down. It is amazing how evil spirits can manipulate circumstances and cause fire and destruction. If you are a spiritual person, you need to understand the activity of evil spirits and constantly bind their power lest they take advantage of you or your circumstances.

This pastor later testified that the atmosphere in his church changed completely after that incident. Visiting ministers began to comment on how the atmosphere in his church was radically transformed. It is important to pray and block all attacks of the enemy that come in the form of stealing, killing and destroying. Bind the works and activities of armed robbers in your life! Bind the works of stealing in your life! Curse the power of death, murder and destruction in your life!

From today, every power of wickedness against you is overturned! Armed robbers, thieves and murderers are blocked in Jesus’ name! Every wicked being that looks at your home and plans to attack you goes blind in Jesus’ name! Your enemies are blown away by the east wind. They will be found no more. Murderers and assassins are wiped out in the name of Jesus!

by Dag Heward-Mills

[joshmspicer]

65 Questions You Aren’t Used To

Nabbed from @pantherdaemon​

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you? Does anybody ever tell you you look like Shalissa?

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you? About a 2 normally

3. The person you would never want to meet? Kevin Spacey

4. What is your favorite word? Therefore

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be? @rustage​

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought? “What am I gonna do with this fucking dog?”

7. What shirt are you wearing? I’m not

8. What do you label yourself as? Male, cis, het, cauc, meh

9. Bright room or dark room? Bright

10. What were you doing at midnight last night? Sleeping

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far? 18 still takes it

12. Who told you they loved you last? Me mum

13. Your worst enemy? Me mum’s husband

14. What is your current desktop picture? Still the ME collage

15. Do you like someone? Eeyup

16. The last song you listened to? At this point? “Nothing Left to Lose” by Puddle of Mudd

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up? With no consequence to me or to the world at large? Mark Zucc

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face? Me mum’s husband

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do? Marc Zucc. Have him forward me half of his cash to an account he can’t have access to. Get in writing the contract that has him willingly give up this money with no recourse and have him pay the next taxes that might arise from this transaction.

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional) I’ve been told me eyes are pretty cool

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do? Probably my sister, just a bit thinner

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it? Apparently I’m good at sneaking

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of? Getting my pets killed from something stupid. Or just being there alone when they die. Or anybody dies.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal. Peanut butter, American Kraft cheese, bologna, white bread. Bread, peanut butter, meat, peanut butter, cheese, peanut butter, meat, peanut butter, cheese, peanut butter, meat, peanut butter, bread.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it? On nothing right now. Probably my debt eventually.

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go? Right now right now? Vancouver?

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be? Henry’s Hard Soda Orange. Or moscatto. Fuck it, give me moscatto.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place? If you’re in a relationship and you cheat on somebody you’re off the island. Your wife can go with you if she wants but she keeps the kids. If your wife says no, your mistress can.

29. What is your favorite expletive? Fuck

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno? My safe.

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? My mom’s losing our house and near suicide

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world! Somewhere cheap in New England. And safe.

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?  Despite all the people I’d want to bring back, I wouldn’t be who I am today if they were still around and didn’t leave me when they did. So I’ll say my cat, Callie.

34. What was your last dream about? That I remember? Shit. I...I don’t...remember.

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]? I am a good drinker of liquids.

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital? More times than I care to count.

37. Have you ever built a snowman? Yes, Anna, for fucks sake.

38. What is the color of your socks? White, but I’m presently not wearing any

39. What type of music do you like? Any. Bite me.

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets? Sunset

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor? A good Lemon milkshake always gets me

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer) New England Patriots and Revolution. Bite me.

43. Do you have any scars? Major one is the one right above my nose. I have a few lingering ones on my arms from my time in retail but no other ones.

44. What do you want to be when you graduate? Voice actor, actor, writer

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? Give me some fucking confidence. Or at least the ability to get over if somebody says no.

46. Are you reliable? Usually

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be? “So do you still follow/watch animated stuff or did you have to give that up to get a girl or a career?”

48. Do you hold grudges? Of course.

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create? Cat snake

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had? I once had a five minute conversation with a girl about whether a dick or boobs are better or more annoying. We both made some decent points but she had to get off the train so we never finished it.

51. Are you a good liar? More than I care to admit. Unless I’m not and people are just humoring me. I hope its the latter. Any prospect of being like my mom makes me sick.

52. How long could you go without talking? A while if need be.

53. What has been you worst haircut/style? I once cut my own hair because the bangs got too long. I very nearly had a fucking mullet.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake? No.

55. Can you do any accents other than your own? Lots. Whether they’re poor or not is up to question.

56. What do you like on your toast? Butter and/or peanut butter

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of? A weird shark/dragon thing

58. What would be you dream car? A good car that doesn’t break down or need repairs after a year. Or two years.

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain. I usually think on my wresting diary or my movies I imagine.

60. Do you believe in aliens? There’s gotta be something out there somewhere in this vast fucking universe

61. Do you often read your horoscope? Not really but I do like it being read.

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? Q. Why is it there? Why is it a thing?

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons? Dragons

64. What do you think about babies? Annoying. Hate ‘em. Stop crying. Why do you stare at me and smile at me? Why do you fucking like me? Stop it!

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of. Do I like waffles? Yeah I like waffles.

[glenngaylord]

THE WALKING DREAD - My Review of IT COMES AT NIGHT (2 Stars)

Trey Edward Shults made a stunning feature filmmaking debut last year with KRISHA, a study of a woman slowly breaking down at her estranged family’s Thanksgiving dinner.  Gorgeously shot by cinematographer Drew Daniels, the film impressed me with its ability to wring suspense out of the most mundane of setups, such as the cooking of a turkey.  When I heard he followed up this little gem with what looked like a more traditional horror film, I thought it would be a match made in heaven.  KRISHA’s camera swooped around, honing in on our quickly disintegrating title character, and it gave me the creeps in a really good way. I couldn’t wait to see what Shults did next.  Taking a look at the trailer to it, I had to know what was outside that red door, what was in the woods, and what came at night.  

And then I saw the movie.

Perhaps the marketing campaign influenced my opinion, but IT COMES AT NIGHT is not a horror film. It has some really good performances, some assured imagery, and a genuine sense of hopelessness, but in the end, I found it to be tedious and disappointing.  I wanted to be scared, yet I was ultimately bored.  

Where have you heard this scenario before?  In the woods, a family, Paul, Sarah and Travis (Joel Edgerton, Carmen Ejogo, Kelvin Harrison Jr., and their trusty dog) have turned their home into a bunker to protect them from what appears to be an epidemic that leaves its victims covered in boils and spitting blood until they die.  Grief stricken from burying a loved one, they encounter an intruder, Will, (Christopher Abbott of GIRLS) one night who challenges their ability to trust anyone outside their own family.  From here on out, it’s a power play to see who gets to be Rick Grimes.  Yep, IT COMES AT NIGHT is essentially a standalone, super-sized episode of THE WALKING DEAD.  All that was missing were zombies and a chyron that read: MEANWHILE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF ATLANTA.  

To make sure Will isn’t diseased or dangerous to them, Paul ties him to a tree to sit overnight.  Once he feels he can trust him, Paul offers to fetch Will’s wife and young son (Riley Keough and  Griffin Robert Faulkner) and bring them to their house to live.  Strength in numbers, he reasons.  From this point, any little transgression could mean the delicate balance ends.  Guns will come out if anyone gets caught in a lie, because preserving the family gets top priority.  Haven’t we been doing this for the past 7 seasons on AMC?  

I can appreciate a good, post-apocalyptic nail biter, and IT COMES AT NIGHT has some tense moments.  Shults drops us into the story with no exposition.  Our main characters know very little about what happened to their world, so neither do we. ��Composer Brian McOmber, who also worked on KRISHA, has written an intense score, and along with the unnerving sound design, shadowy, candlelit images, and ambiguous intentions of its main characters, it’s easy to see why an audience could find parts of the film frightening.  

Edgerton, Abbott and Harrison Jr. give fine performances.  Harrison Jr. has terrible nightmares and often snoops around the house spying on their guests or gazing outside into the woods.  He has an enigmatic face and is asked to pretty much carry the film from his point of view. He does well with what he’s given…..but it’s not nearly as much as I was hoping.  

Same goes for Ejogo and Keough, both of whom have proven themselves to be world class actors with their work in SELMA and AMERICAN HONEY respectively.  Here, they cry and scream well, but just don’t get that much to do. Ejogo was wasted in ALIEN: COVENANT as well.  Somebody please give this talented actor more to do, stat!

I kept writing a better movie in my head as it went along.  Travis seems to struggle with something internal.  Is he imaging everything?  Is he an unreliable narrator?  What does he see in the inky, black forest?  Is there a supernatural being in the trees?  Is ANYTHING going to come at night?  Will SOMETHING please come at night?  Why is this movies called IT COMES AT NIGHT????!!!!!  

Shuts still has promise.  The film has what I like to call good bones.  A house.  A desperate pair of families.  The end of the world.  All solid elements for a horror movie.  I wanted insane BLAIR WITCH-style mayhem, things banging at the house at night, creatures emerging from the darkness.  I know it’s not fair to want a different movie, but when you give your movie a title like that, expectations do exist.  I supposed they wouldn’t sell as many tickets with something called THE WORLD ENDS WITH A DULL WHIMPER.