#if there is a heaven for people I'm not going unless they let my pets in

[punkpinkpower]

Today we said goodbye to the last of the old guard.

When my husband and I got married, we both already had commitments to two animals each, which meant we started out with an unruly brood of 4 beautiful babies. They brought us so much joy, and so much laughter, and also so much frustration. I learned so many lessons from these babies. It's hard to believe they are all across the Rainbow Bridge now.

While we have continued adding to our fur family, I'd like to talk about the OGs of our life together a bit.

Pudding Pop was unlike any Chihuahua I had ever met. She had a big enough personality to fill an entire room on her own. She loved people, and getting attention. She would shake her entire body with joy and love when husband came home from work, finally laying down to have her tummy rubbed with a smile on her face. She wasn't very barky, but God was she braver than dogs 5 times her size. She once barked at a great dane across the street as if she could take him, and you know, maybe she could have. She taught me so much about love. Husband had never leash trained her, so I took that upon myself and our daily walkies became our favorite shared activity. Once, we were approached on the street by two men in a threatening manner, and despite being only 8 pounds, she put herself between me and them, fur on end, and bit the guys ankle when he got what she deemed was too close. He tried to kick her, but I yanked her back and, having retrieved my pepper spray, continued to pull her backwards and away from them. When we got home that night I gave her some cooked ground beef as a reward for defending me. She was so devoted to her dad, I had never imagined she would care enough for me to do that. I was so proud of her and after that day it was clear I was her momma. She developed Cushings Disease at 7 years old, and I ran up my credit card getting her treatments and keeping her comfy. She was the first to leave us at 9 years old, passing away gently in her sleep. It was far too soon, but she was such an enigma. There will never be another Chihuahua like her.

Shenanigans was our large and in charge calico kitty. Husband had adopted her from someone at work when she was about 3 years old. The person was having a baby and was going to have her cat put down. Upon hearing this, despite never having met the cat and never having owned a cat before, husband asked to adopt her instead. He told me this story on our second date, and I knew we were the same kind of bleeding heart. Shenanigans was 17 pounds and on a dry food diet, and before I came into their lives, they kinda just cohabitated. She was standoffish, and who could blame her. She'd been abandoned to this ninny(affectionate) who didn't seem to know anything about cats and she was living with a bunch of bachelors. The first time I met her she was aloof, but once I pulled out her first (at least then) cat toy, she realized I was a cat person and attached herself to me. I'll never forget the way she meowed at me that day, like she was telling me all her complaints. "And all they're feeding me is dry food and my nails need trimming and can you please tell them I need another litter box?!" Like I could understand her because I'd brought the toy, so clearly I was a cat person. She was a bossy girl, and we had the privilege of being her devoted servants for around 13 years. Her kidneys started to fail around 14, but when she realized we were treating her special she decided she was going to take full advantage of that and despite being given 6 months to live she gave us another beautiful two years. She was my constant lap cat at the end, and we had to let her go when her kidney disease became so bad she could no longer control her functions. She was such a loving girl, and I'll never forget the way she looked at me while we cuddled, like I was the mom she'd always wanted. I was so lucky to love her.

Timmy. Timmy was my soul cat. I was there when he was born in my friends garage my senior year of high school. We sat a few feet away quietly whispering while Timmy's mother Princess gave birth to him and his siblings. When he was old enough to be handled, I was the very first one to hold him. I would come over everyday after school to see the kittens and by the time he was 8 weeks old Timmy would run towards me on his tiny paws as soon as he heard my voice. It took another 4 weeks to convince my mother to let me adopt him, and the only reason she finally agreed was that I'd had a falling out with pretty much all of my friends. She told me later she was afraid I was going to kill myself, and she thought having a cat would give me a reason not to. She was right. Timmy saved my life so many times. He got me through so many low points. He loved me completely, and I loved him, and we got to spend a beautiful 17 years together. We were never apart. I am so grateful for all the love he gave me. His fur absorbed countless tears, he nuzzled his nose against mine a million times, and I tried to give him a million kisses. Lung cancer came for him in his old age, and I was the last one to hold him when I had to let him go. He spent a lifetime in my arms and I will miss him for the rest of my life. He was the longest relationship I ever had, and I am so grateful for the unconditional love he gave me all those years. He saved me, as they say, in every way a person can be saved. And he took his role as alpha of the house very seriously, training up new kitties we adopted to his standards and never afraid to put someone in their place for misbehaving. God, I miss him.

Today, we said goodbye to our 15 year old tuxedo cat Rygel. He started life out as my roommates cat, and yes, he is named after the dirty old Muppet in Farscape. When he was about 3 years old, my roommate had to make some hard choices about her life, and what ended up coming out of that was my keeping Rygel when she moved out. He was the biggest goofball, an absolute unit of insanity. We often joked he had only one brain cell. He was the cat who climbed Christmas trees and knocked over TVs and sometimes he would yowl in the middle of the night like he was lost until one of us came and picked him up and brought him to bed. He had a huge personality, and he had such a big pur. He developed pretty severe allergies as an adult that cost an absolute fortune. Rygels lesson to me was patience. His allergies gave him GI issues and bladder infections, and he started having litter box problems around 9 years old that... Honestly? Made our lives kinda insane. I think most people would probably have thrown in the towel years ago, but we talked about it and decided we couldn't. We made a commitment to him, and we are long, long life journey people. He was our cross to bear, and we spent money and time making sure he was as comfortable and happy as he could be for the rest of his life. I know he knew how loved he was, because he showed me. He turned into a lap cat and a bed cat, enjoying nothing quite so much as a soft blanket and some good scritches. A week after we said goodbye to Timmy, Rygel was diagnosed with aggressive intestinal cancer. We did what we could for him, and he kept bringing us love and joy for another 6 months. This last week he let us know he was ready. He was tired. And so, with heavy hearts, we took the last of the old guard in for his soft goodbye, and held him tightly.

We have three wonderful younger cats who are comforting us in our loss, but these four were with us at the beginning and Rygels passing feels like a bookend no matter how I look at it. They filled our lives with so much love, and chaos, and joy. Despite how much losing them hurts, I would not change a thing about any of them. Except of course, if I could make it so they were still here.

If love could have saved them, they would have lived forever. I know that we will have many, many more cats and dogs that will have their own stories and we will love them with all we are, but they owe something to these four. They taught us love, devotion, bravery, kindness, patience, and a part of my heart will always be with them at the rainbow bridge. I don't know what I believe about death and what happens after, but I do believe in an afterlife for animals. They're so pure, so kind, and so full of love that I know that carries on somehow, because their love also lives within me.

Thank you for loving us, Rygel, Timmy, Shenanigans, Pudding. I will never forget you, and I will love you forever, even when I cease to be here on this earth, your love will always be part of me. I love you, my darlings. Rest well.

[ladyolivegardenia]

A Vampire Tailor? (a fashion designer writes a fluffy Tailor Astarion fic)

Rating: PG

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Tav

Word Count: 1170

Warnings/Tags: blood, a tiny little bit of blood play I guess? needles/pins (nothing graphic tho, just a prick)

Summary: Astarion loves to sew, but not for other people... until he met Tav. He remembers his mother's advice.

The picture is from the very talented Hamrikaa on instagram

Astarion hated sewing for other people. Absolutely loathed it. No one ever wanted to pay you adequately for what the work actually cost, that is unless you became so famous and reknowned as a tailor that you could afford to underpay someone else to do the work for you. There was also just something so personal about it for him- he remembered so little of his life before Cazador, but he remembered his mother's hands, showing him how to do a slip stitch or guiding his own hands to find the grainline of a fabric. For two hundred years Astarion had so little control over his life, but at least he had control over his clothes and could enjoy the small amount of power that came with being able to tailor his wardrobe to fit exactly how he preferred, and while Cazador forced him to do so many awful things, he couldn't force Astarion to sew for other people.

And then Tav crash landed into his life and for the first time... he wanted to stitch for someone else.

...it helped that Tav's clothing was a fucking mess. Sure, she had the power to cast a fireball that could take out six Sharran clerics at once, but heaven forbid she wear a dress that fit properly. In their rooms at the Elfsong Tavern, Astarion happened upon Tav trying on one of the robes their merry band of misfits looted liberated from Cazador's mansion, a sumptuous garment made from a shimmering silk crepe that flowed over Tav's curves like a lover's caress. He paused in the doorway, admiring her wearing far finer a garment than he had ever seen her don before, but frowned when he noticed how it gaped around her shoulders and winced at the delicate fabric puddled around her feet on the rough wooden floor.

"My darling, this will not do," he said, walking over to his pack to retrieve his sewing kit.

Tav turned around sharply, caught off guard. "I thought you were out hunting."

Astarion sighed, "Alas, my dear, the hunting was poor. I refuse to eat another rat, but that was just about all I could find that had four legs and wasn't some Balduran's beloved pet." He fetched a small stool from their main living quarters and set it down in front of Tav's mirror. "Up you go, love, let's do something about that dress."

"What's wrong with it?" said Tav, a smidge defensive.

"Nothing much," said Astarion, "but if you continue to drag that silk across the floor you're going to ruin it, and the fit of that bodice is a sin."

Tav snorted. "Against which god?" she asked as she acquiesced to his request and stepped onto the stool.

He crept up behind her and whispered "Me" into her ear, enjoying the shiver he felt along her back in response. He reached up and removed the belt Tav used to clumsily take in the robe at her waist, allowing the fabric to hang freely from her body. This style of garment could be adjusted in length by carefully folding it at the waist and belting it in place, but there was still too much fabric at the back of her neck. "I'm going to take this off of you," he told her, "and turn it inside out so I can fit it properly." He felt her shiver once more, but she nodded her consent and raised her arms to help Astarion get the dress off and over her shoulders.

Astarion placed a gentle kiss on her bare shoulder and enjoyed the flush he saw spread across her cheeks in the mirror. He deftly flipped the dress inside out and helped Tav back into, giving the garment a few strategic tugs to get it to hang evenly on her. He paced around her in a circle, looking the dress up and down and assessing the best way to alter it to show off his darling Tav.

"I feel a bit like a piece of meat," said Tav, "being circled by a hound."

Astarion raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you, though?" He smirked, showing just a hint of fang and she rolled her eyes at him. He stopped directly in front her and reached for the fabric at the front of the dress. He gently tugged it down, pleased to see it form a cowl neck that showed off a small tease of cleavage. "Don't move", he commanded as he circled to the back again.

Yes, the center seam up the back needed to be taken in with a dart to contour to Tav's shoulders, but that was the only alteration the dress really needed to be appropriately wearable. Astarion grabbed a few pins and pinched the center seam with his long, elegant fingers, pulling it straight out and began pinning as needed so he could see where he would need to sew the dart once Tav removed the dress.

"Please don't stab me," she said nervously.

"Oh don't tempt me," said Astarion, "it wouldn't be the first time I've made you bleed." Being careful not to actually scratch her, he playfully dragged the tip of one of his pins along Tav's neck, next to the scars of his teeth from their feedings along the road to Baldur's Gate. "Don't worry, love," he whispered into her ear. "I would hate to ruin this silk with your blood and waste your blood on this silk."

He paused as a long lost memory suddenly echoed across his mind. It was his mother, imparting to him her one of her many clever sewing tips. "I know this sounds gross, but remember Astarion, if you ever prick your finger and bleed on the fabric, a little bit of spit can remove it. Saliva contains an enzyme that breaks down blood."

Astarion recalled his younger self wrinkling his nose and asking incredulously, "who found that out???"

His mother had laughed and told him, "Perhaps a vampire tailor?"

In the present, he sighed. If only she could see him now.

But the memory did make him wonder...

"Darling," he said. "...may I try something? It may sting, but please, indulge me?"

Tav turned her head to look at him, ready to protest, but she met his gaze and something she saw there stopped her. "Ok? I guess?" she said tentatively, but she trusted Astarion and was curious about what he had in mind.

He gently pressed one of his pins into the soft skin of her shoulder, just enough to draw a speck of blood. He lightly dropped it onto the shoulder of her dress and watched the scarlet seep into the white fabric. Then he put his lips to the silk, his tongue moistening the spot with the blood stain and tasting just a hint of Tav. He pulled back and while the fabric was a little dark from the dampness of his mouth, the small dark spot of blood was no longer visible.

He chuckled softly. "Mum was right."

Perhaps vampires should be tailors.

~*~

Author's Note: The bit about saliva getting blood out of fabric is true (it's a great bridal sewing tip 😂), and I couldn't resist writing this drabble. Also reflects a lot of my own opinions about sewing for other people, but also feels very in character for Astarion. And idk there are scientists in Faerun, maybe they've discovered enzymes.

Lol I was going to write smut, but introspection happened instead. I haven't written fiction in... years tbh, but this game and this silly vampire have me in a chokehold, so why not, let's give this a go.

[piinktearxs]

my own team free will caregiver headcannons

okay so its like my first like fanfic ish thing on here, but we need, more agere spn fics cause, lets be honest, big ol comfort show

anywho the little in the dynamic is munchkin (yours truly) she's very fem-oriented, so I'm sorry if it doesn't suit you BUT I could consider becoming like a fanfic blog in the future (like taking requests and all)

quick warnings: the nicknames daddy, dada and dae are used cause Ik some ppl are uncomfy w that, small body image issues mention, small arfid mention

okay so I'm feeling a 'three men and a little lady' vibe here because that is exactly what it is like, you got these three big guns beer and like not soft-looking guys and then you have munchkin, this 5'3, pink dresses wearing little lady and she's just vibing with them

munchkin is not a 24/7 little, like she has her essence which is very child like but her little self just comes in waves, and like she comforts and cares for the boys when they need, they take care and comfort her when her emotions get too big and she goes small

munchkin takes turns to be the "official stuffie" for the boys (or that's what they tell her so she feels wanted and needed with her cuddles, and she is to be honest) one night she sleeps cuddled between dean and cas and the other one with sam

THEY HAVE A NIGHT ROUTINE; So she brushes her teeth and does skincare with Sam, then Dean sings her one of her special songs (Little willow, angeles, city grown willow, calico skies, forever, surfer girl, hey jude, blackbird, stairway to heaven, to be honest hearing her daddies's voices is the most calming thing for her) Cas and Sam take turns to read her a story (literally anything classic fairy tales or pink and ballet vibes, munchkin adores)

THEIR CLOSET DIFFERENCES PLS- like you would have the boys's flannel and jeans and basic t-shirts and right next to those these pink dresses and vintage clothes (also munchkin's big girl clothes but it's the same vibe, vintage girly)

When munchkin is small, she wears the boys's clothes cause they smell like them and they're huge on her so they make her feel small

munckin has a lot of sensory issues with food, especially when she's small, so she and Dean work out creative ways to get her veggies in but that she doesn't hate them

When she's scared she goes to her daddies, like literally with anything, they are her heroes and the people she trusts most

It always helps her to hold one her daddies's hand when she's doing something scary (like eating a new food, or talking about her feelings, or petting a big dog!)

She's their little buddy on everything they do, cause she's just so amazed by her daddies, Dean's fixing baby? Munchkin will be next to him, handing him tools and hanging out with him, Sam's reading? She's plopped next to him reading her own book, Cas is taking a walk through nature? Pink rainboots on and coat on (sammy said so) and she's on her merry way, also, they always stay out for hours just admiring nature

She adores cooking, she's always ready to be their little helper in the kitchen (but never near hot or sharp things!! She’s much too small!! She likes cracking eggs and being the taste tester anyways)

When they're on hunts she always comes with (and ofc helps out unless she is small) and after they all go to a county fair or a petting zoo

On the bunker she has her little trunk, obviously painted white with little pink roses and it contains her little stuff, paci, teether, sippy, some tutus, coloring books, tiaras, her tea set, and a doll that looks like her that she carries around everywhere

on the impala she has a little emergency box, with a lovey, some calico critters and a teether and snacks!

She always hosts tea parties with the boys (yes, they wear crowns and drink tea with her and her dolls) at first they were a bit weird about the whole tea party thing (Dean said he hated them and now he even does a british accent when they play tea party) but got around in the end

She is a polite little one, always using her manners, because princesses use their manners

Her drawings always go up in the fridge ofc

okay now onto individual headcanons

Dean aka Dada or Bean:

When he first met munchkin he was a little distant but then grew to love her

he gave her the nickname munchkin

their relationship is like uncle jesse and michelle in full house (fight me they’re literally the same person and my comfort characters)

He is always watching old kids shows with her (she loves vintage things and the're nostalgic to him) especially old scooby doo episodes

Pretends he is like in shock when she hugs him but honestly he feels as much comfort in her as she has in him

always gives her eskimo kisses

they once saw the scooby snacks at the store and got them and went nuts over them

she sometimes is too small to watch scooby doo so they put on bluey

dean actually quite enjoys bluey

Teaches her how to do stuff like fix things or play pool and they have a lil bonding moment

She's allowed in the dean-cave and she loves to color while watching cartoons on the big TV!

He gives her ALL the piggy back rides, and throws her in the air to catch her after

If he's drinking beer outside, alone, she always goes up to him and lays her head on his lap, and they just hang together in comfortable silence while he strokes her hair with his beer-free hand

He's super into the fighting scenes in her princess movies

They try a slice of pie of every diner they eat at, and rate it

They love cooking together

He’s honestly the more fun caregiver but also the most protective one

When she’s having a bad day he always takes her out for ice cream, if she really reallyyy wants to, he goes the extra mile to get her gelato

Munchkin sometimes has body image issues, when she does dean just picks her up and kisses her forehead

Dean teaches her all his cool rock songs!!

“You see sweetheart, bon jovi rocks, on occasion, but zeppelin? zeppelin always rocks” “what about taylor swift dada?” “she is the music industry so she always rocks too”

She is allowed to pick the music even when not driving (munchkin is a huge swiftie, and well we all know all too well dean is too)

Sam aka Daddy or Sammy

He is the king of rules and sticker charts, and they help keep munchkin on track a lot!!

After she eats a fear food sammy always has some candy for her in the pantry!!

he makes sure she gets her protein in, she can’t get low blood sugar!!

He gives her big big biiig bear hugs all the time

Given but, munchkin is totally allowed to do sammy’s hair!!! No scissors though!!

He loves having a little hair buddy, so when she’s really small he helps her wash her hair

He brushes her hair for her, it’s a little bonding moment between the two

Can we talk about how bath-time is a whole ritual for these two? They put on her littlespace playlist and dance around while brushing their teeth

If they’re away from home he reads her a bit of the game of thrones kindle he has in his phone until she falls asleep

KING of forehead kisses

Definitely gets into the life lesson aspect of EVERYTHING, she’s watching charlie and lola? lola hates tomatoes? (munchkin does too, they’re her mortal enemy) he pauses the show to tell her the importance of eating new foods. She’s watching moana and moana goes into the deep part of the sea alone? He reminds her that she needs to go with one of her daddies when she’s small

He always helps her with stuff she’s too short for

*munchkin climbing on the counter to reach her gummies* “No pumpkin, you can’t climb on the counter to reach the high cupboard, here, let me help you”

He carries her around A LOT

When she’s really small she likes to sit on his lap and fidget with his hair

If he’s late researching and not in bed for story time she always goes up to him and lays down near until he’s finished

When she’s big they go to the gym and lift weights and running, or go in nature walks, when she’s small they go play catch in the park together or go in the swings, as long as they’re both happy and healthy he’s okay with going out for a bit more

Definitely the type to give her a time out and then talk it out

cas aka dae or casseel

he was definitely very confused when he heard that she was a regressor, but not in a bad way, he’s just confused with most earth things!!

sammy knew about the topic (he researched a bit more because he suspected that munchkin was a regressor) and when he explained it to him, cas got it

he’s the one that’s away the most doing angel business, but he makes sure to check in on her at bedtime

when he is home, he’s her official nap buddy, she finds him so comforting and loves napping with him

they definitely go on tons of walks and, ANNNND they stop to analyze every new flower and mushroom!! (munchkin isn’t allowed to touch them though)

munchkin finds dean and cas’s relationship the most adorable thing ever, she’s a huge romantic because cmon, you are if you watch cinderella every other week, so when they kiss she’s always like “a true love’s kiss!!!”

he heals ALL the ouchies, but she still gets a fun bandaid

she asks cas if he has magic rapunzel hair when he heals her or the boys

she sometimes wears his trench coat and plays pretend in it

or when it’s cold and she wants to sleep in the impala, he lets her use it as a blanket

he’s always down to watch disney movies, since they’re new to him!!

“but little one, why must cinderella go home at 12? why are the mice horses? why a pumpkin and not an apple or a zucchini??” “dunno, magic stuff dae, but ‘ook there!!! her dress pretty!!!!!”

tells her stories from the whole existence of the world

she gives him butterfly kisses on the nose (the ones where you bat your eyelashes on the other person’s skin)

he helps her tie the ribbons on her dresses

so that is it for my personal supernatural headcanons, i quite enjoyed writing these so i’m definitely making this for my mcu au!! i know there’s not much spn agere fics (cmon we ALL go and search spn agere and check for new fics) so if you liked this feel free to send me an ask whether that be from this au or reader insert one shots typa things :D

[that-random-outsider]

OMG SO MANY THOUGHTS SO MANY FEELINGS

FIRST OF ALL WE GOT TO SEE THE SHORT KING HIMSELF AND I LOVE HIM!!! He is trying so hard to get Charlie to like him. Omg how do I describe him he's just so done with everything. He's like everything Charlie could become but refuses to. He's given up on his people, broken all of his dreams, and retreated into his solitude scared to call everyone who loves him.

Omg and Alistor is so.. interesting!! The way we got to experience him through his relationship with mimzy and Charlie we get this whole new side of him. It's clear that he was over emphasizing him and Charlie's relationship to piss off Lucifer but you could tell he at least partially cared. And the way husk described his relationship with mimzie he loves his friends so much. He's willing to fight anyone who picks a fight with those he cares about and that same sentiment applies to Charlie and everyone else now too, even if he doesn't want to admit it.

The Hazbin Hotel doesn't make sinners better people because of lesson plans or exercises, everyone makes each other better by providing them with some place they can just be free. Somewhere where they don't have to worry about being murdered, eaten, or robbed, they just get to be their authentic self and they get a chance to realize that there's more to life. (Or death)

As for episode six shit Don’t get me started bro. A HELL IS FOREVER REPRISE!??? LIKE ARE THEY KIDDING ME??? THAT SHIT WAS INCREDIBLE!!! NOT ALL OF HEVEN IS A PEACE OF SHIT??? I LOVE THAT ANGLE!!! I was so sure that all of heaven was just going to be like pompous ass holes but like they didn't even know!!

I'm not surprised Vaggie was an angel I always thought those theories were pretty justified but I have so many questions like how gid Vaggie really get her name? Adam said he chose it but that would imply he was in a position to do so which would make no sense in the context that she had a life on earth unless it was forced upon her.

The only alternative would be that she spawned in heaven as an exorcist but we also know she is in fact dead as of 2014 so that would imply that when she let that demon go she didn't just become a fallen angel she was actually killed which would also mean that heaven born Intatiees do still have souls and can in fact become sinner demons which means there's a chance we'll get to meet that decapitate angel after all.

Anyway uhm idk why but I kind of like Cherrie and sir pensious it's actually too hilarious to not at least cravk a smile be for real. Also MY BOY ANGEL IS ALL GROWN UP 🥺 SAYING NO TO DRUGS AND EVERYTHING I'M SO PROUD OF HIM!!!!!

I'm sorry but Am the Seraphim has my heart and she and Charlie should just hang out together and pet koalas all day pleaseeee!! Omg These Last two episodes were incredible and I can’t wait for next week. I wonder how Charlie will react to Vaggies secret. I'm not too worried about them Breaking up but that is definitely a conversation they're going to have to have. Hazbin Hotel had not disappointed yet and now I have 4 new songs to add on my playlist.

[i-write-and-therefore-i-am]

One Monstrous Miracle (Part Seven)

Hi. I know it's been quite a long time since I last updated this story, I'm sorry guys! If there's anyone still interested, here's a new chapter, just for you! This is partially motivated by Season 2 dropping, and partially by intense nostalgia from rereading what I had already written. I have an outline for the last chapters, but I'm still trying to decide how to split them up. I can't promise how soon I'll be posting more after this, but I can guarantee it will be sooner than last time! Thank you all for your continued support, and I hope you love this chapter as much as I do <3 (Pst! Here’s the AO3 version!)

First-Previous-Next

Pairing: Aziraphale/Human!Reader

Summary: A group of kids stop Armageddon (offscreen). A deadbeat dad shows his face. Aziraphale almost has a panic attack.

Warnings: Unsure, please let me know if any pop out at you! I wrote the first part of this chapter 3 years ago, and finished it tonight, so please forgive me if you spot any yucky parts. 

Word Count: 4,714

Tadfield Airbase, some weeks later…

Crowley was well aware that things were far from being over. He knew exactly how much Hell had been itching for a do-over, that they were still licking their wounds from the Great War. Adam and his friends had stopped Armageddon, something that would not go unpunished by both sides. If Heaven and Hell wanted a war, they would get one. It was only a matter of time.

They were all standing around in the lull between banishing the Four Horsemen and the next Big Thing, doing the dreaded, but inevitable small talk thing with each other. Crowley ignored most of it, staying on high alert. He was soon rewarded for his diligence in the form of an enormous bolt of purple lightning striking the ground not ten feet away from where the group was standing. Simultaneously, the ground began to break apart and crumble in a small patch beside the spot where the lightning had touched down, seemingly being forced up by something moving from below the pavement. They all gasped, stepping away from the new developments. Everyone except for Adam and Anathema. Newt was trying to pull his new girlfriend back, but she stayed, feet planted firmly where they were. Adam just looked.

Adam watched as a tall, dark shape began to form in the lightning, and something broke through the ground next to it and continued to rise. The rising form turned out to be Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies. Adam did not know how he knew this, but he did. The other form was not just one person, but two. An Angel, Gabriel, Adam thought, and a woman. Adam frowned. Gabriel seemed to be holding the woman up by her hair! That didn’t look very nice. The Demon and the Angel glared at each other before marching forwards, Gabriel dragging the groaning woman behind him.

Aziraphale couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him when he saw the state you were in. Once Gabriel had gotten close enough, he threw your limp body to the ground, shaking out his hands as though he had been touching something quite foul. Aziraphale was already halfway to you, shrugging off his coat to cover your ripped and dirty clothes. He gathered you into his arms, mindlessly healing all your scrapes and cuts, taking your bloody wrists in his to press cooling miracles into the wounds there. The look he gave Gabriel could have sent him straight to Damnation, if Aziraphale had been concerned with anything other than your wellbeing. You whimpered and fell fully into Aziraphale’s embrace.

“What did you do to her?” Aziraphale demanded of the Archangel, feeling his blood boil in rage. “Her clothes are soaking wet!”

Gabriel grinned shrugging as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, and he could feel Crowley bristling at his side.

“Oh, I haven’t done anything to your precious little pet. You know me, Azi, I don’t like getting my hands bloody. You know, unless there’s a war on. A divine, righteous war that you…people had no right getting in the way of!”

If Aziraphale hadn’t been holding you, he would’ve lunged at him. As it was, he could feel your shivering getting worse, so he wrapped his coat tighter around you and brought you closer to his chest, burying his face into your messy hair. He was thankful you were alive, anyway. Seeing how the angels had treated you doubled the guilt he felt for not dropping everything to scour creation looking for you. Although he knew it was the right choice, later, he would look at every single cut, scrape, and abrasion on your body, thinking that if he had gotten to you, if he hadn’t gone to Tadfield instead, that you would be whole. You would be healthy and happy, far away from all of this mess. As it was, you were right smack in the middle of Armageddon, completely and utterly clueless about what was happening.

Meanwhile, you had gradually been coming back to consciousness, the jolt from being thrown onto the concrete doing most of the heavy work for you. The first thing you noticed was the smell—like wool and tea and old books. A familiar smell that you couldn’t quite place, so you opened your eyes to find your vision blocked by a wall of light tan. Your pain-addled brain was slow to recognize what had happened, but once it did, you couldn’t help yourself from bursting into tears.

“Aziraphale! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…they just took me! I sw-swear I didn’t tell them anything, honest—”

“Hush, now! Don’t be silly!” Aziraphale was aghast. Here you were, after Heaven only knows what you had gone through, and you were apologizing! To him! He began rubbing soothing circles onto your back, cooing softly, and quieting your crying. As if he needed more proof that he did not deserve someone like you.

“Oi! Do you think you could get her to stop bawling?” Aziraphale lifted his head to see Lord Beelzebub snarling at the pair of you. Aziraphale couldn’t stop himself from staring as a fly landed right on her eyeball and crawled back into the socket. Shuddering, Aziraphale forced his gaze away from the disgusting sight.

“Surely you can understand, Your Highness, with her having just been tortured and all.” Crowley answered, speaking over whatever was about to come out of Aziraphale’s mouth. He knew his friend, and he recognized the same ancient anger that he had felt from Aziraphale the night they had gone to your empty flat. If Aziraphale had had the wherewithal to keep him from burning half of Heaven to find their girl, then Crowley could, at least try and do the same. For now. Beelzebub sneered at him but turned back to the conversation.  

“Now. Adam. Listen to me.” The Prince of Hell was bending over in front of the Son of Satan, looking him straight in his eyes. Adam had to stop himself from scrunching his nose at the rank smell that was rolling off her in waves. He stared at her, waiting for her to speak. “When this is over, you’re going to get to rule the world! Don’t you want to rule the world, boy?”

This was a question that every child has thought of at least once. The ultimate, most interesting question one could ask themselves. Adam, being who he was, hadn’t thought about it at all until the past few months, as things in the world had gotten stranger and stranger. After reading the Antiquarian magazines, after finally learning about all the stuff that was really happening, everything that was wrong with the world, Adam knew that he wanted to fix it. Get rid of the nuclear plants! Welcome the aliens to Earth! Adam would fix everything. Hearing Lord Beelzebub say that he really could rule the world and all he would have to do would be to listen to the voices in his mind that he had been resisting all this time was tempting, to say the absolute least.

But then Adam looked around him at the strange group of people that had gathered together to stop that very thing from happening. The two Angels and the two Demons, the witch and the witchfinders, the fortune teller…and his friends. He knew for a fact that he had scared them witless with how he had behaved towards them. Despite how horribly he had treated them, they were here with him—they had his back. He grinned at them, and they grinned back. He turned to the Prince.

“It’s hard enough to have to think of things for Pepper and Wensley and Brian to do all the time so we don’t get bored. I’ve got all the world I want, right here.” His friends cheered, while Gabriel and Beelzebub looked positively murderous. Gabriel huffed and waving his hands around angrily.

“Well, you can’t just refuse to be who you are,” he informed Adam. “Your birth, your destiny, they’re part of the Great Plan—”

Aziraphale stopped fretting over you when he heard those damnable words. The Great Plan. Poppycock. How many times has that phrase been used over the millennia to excuse all sorts of shit? As he listened to Gabriel and Beelzebub squabbling over not getting their war, he was hit with a sudden realization. It was something that had crossed his mind from time to time, but he had always dismissed it outright because…because of what, exactly? Righteousness? Fear? Was he afraid to acknowledge something so huge that it would shake the very foundations of his faith? He turned and gestured to Madame Tracy, who had been watching the proceedings with varying degrees of horror and fascination. Her heels clicked on the pavement as she hurried over, and it occurred to Aziraphale that he had inhabited that body not one hour ago. What a strange thought.

“What is it, my dear?” Tracy asked kindly. Aziraphale waved her closer to where he was sitting with you half across his lap.

“Tracy, would you mind terribly if I asked you to watch Y/N for a moment?” Tracy immediately got down on the ground beside him, reaching for your still weak body and pulling you gently towards her. She could see Mr. Shadwell inching closer out of the corner of her eye, but she focused on you.

“Oooh, you poor dear. We’ll have you right as rain as soon as all of this nonsense is over with!” She assured you, squeezing your hand. You sneezed and groaned.

Aziraphale rose to his feet, brushing the dirt and grit off of his trousers, and strode over to the rest of the group. He cleared his throat to get their attention.

“Ahem. Um, excuse me, you…keep talking about the Great Plan,” he began. Gabriel did not look at him when he replied,

“Aziraphale, maybe you should just keep your mouth shut.” Aziraphale had no intention of doing anything of the sort.

“One thing I’m not sure I’m clear on just yet. Is that the Ineffable Plan?” Gabriel and Beelzebub shared a confused and irritated look with each other.

“The Great Plan!” Beelzebub insisted, her voice going sort of staticky in her frustration. “It is written! There shall be a world, and it shall last for 6,000 yearzzz and end in fire and flame!”

“Yes, yes that sounds like the Great Plan.” He paused, smiling warmly at the two entities. “Just wondering, is that the Ineffable Plan as well?”

There was a short silence.

“Well, they’re the same thing!” Gabriel sounded a lot less confident than he had before. Crowley couldn’t believe it. All of this fighting. All of this uncertainty, and running around England searching for the bleeding Antichrist, trying to stop the unstoppable war and the two people in charge of the whole affair didn’t even know if God wanted it in the first place. You couldn’t make this drivel up, you really couldn’t.

“You don’t know,” Crowley was incredulous. He looked at Aziraphale and he knew that they were on the exact same page. He smirked. “Uh, well, it’d be a real pity if you’d thought you were doing what you thought the Great Plan said, but you were actually going against God’s Ineffable Plan. I mean, everyone knows the Great Plan, yeah? But the Ineffable Plan…” He licked his lips with his forked tongue. “Well, it’s ineffable, isn’t it? By definition we can’t know it.” Gabriel and Beelzebub looked stricken.

“But…it izzz written?” Beelzebub buzzed, disheartened. Crowley nearly felt sorry for the poor things, all the work they had put in, all for naught. Then he thought about all the work he had put in and found he didn’t care about their feelings anymore.

“God does not play games with the Universe.” Gabriel tried in a tone that sounded resolutely final, but with an expression that looked like someone had just broken his favorite toy. Crowley couldn’t help himself from laughing out loud at that one.

“Where have you been?” he asked in between chortles. The two of them stepped away from the group to have their own little conversation. Crowley watched as Aziraphale returned to his post at your side, nodding his thanks to the strange red-headed woman he had been when Crowley had first reunited with him. Gabriel and Beelzebub couldn’t resist one last threat directed towards Adam before they both blinked out of the world. That was that over, then, onto the next one.

You had been watching all this taking place from your spot on the cold, wet ground. Aziraphale’s coat and arms had been warm enough, but you couldn’t even focus on your own body with everything that was going on. You had never felt more confused in your life, surrounded by complete strangers, except for Aziraphale and Crowley. Aziraphale. The people who had taken you, they’d called themselves Angels, had known who he was, and had known about Crowley too. They had called Aziraphale an Angel, too, and Crowley a demon. They had demanded any and all information that you had concerning either one of them, but you had no idea what they were talking about. At first, you assumed that Aziraphale was secretly in some deep trouble with some strange crime syndicate, like a Godfather sort of thing. But the longer you stayed on that chair, the more you had begun to realize that these angels were…well, they were Angels. And that meant that Aziraphale was an Angel too.

________________________________________________________________

Of all the things you’d expected to happen to you, meeting actual Satan was not high on that list. After the shock of Aziraphale, Crowley, and …Adam(?) blinking in and out of existence, you were greeted by the deep rumbles and sharp smell of burnt earth announcing the arrival of the Great Adversary. Here. In the flesh. About a million feet taller than you, with only his top half poking out of the actual ground, Satan cast an extremely intimidating figure. Your heart stopped when Adam, a boy that couldn’t even be in his teens yet, stepped up to the Ruler of Hell and gave him a piece of his mind. Apparently, Adam was Satan’s son, and had never even seen his own father for the entirety of his life. Typical. Adam sent his father straight back to where he had come from. Once the pavement had patched itself up, a small, red car came tearing through the lingering smoke. The door opened, and out stepped a very cross, middle-aged man.

“Can anyone tell me, what exactly is going on?” He demanded. It turned out that this man was also Adam’s father, which was very confusing. The children all migrated over to him, and the rest of them stayed back, assessing the damage, and waiting to see if it all really was over. You watched as the young couple embraced almost forcefully; the man’s glasses being pushed askew with how…passionate his partner was being with her kisses. The red head and the old man with the Dr. Seuss-ian gun-thing were standing awkwardly next to each other, but you could see their hands brushing each other ever so slightly. Your boys had examined each other, and were now making their way over to you, Aziraphale not even bothering to hide his worry while Crowley sauntered along behind him.

“You alright, Y/N?” Crowley nearly could’ve convinced you that he wasn’t concerned about you, if it wasn’t for the serious expression on his face that completely belied the casual way he had spoken. Aziraphale stayed quiet, seemingly unable to meet your gaze. You looked back at Crowley.

“I’ve been better.” You paused. Aziraphale and Crowley had hidden this part of themselves from you, their true selves, one could say. Now that Crowley wasn’t wearing his glasses, you could see that he had sickly yellow eyes with slits for pupils. Aziraphale didn’t seem any different, but after what the Angels had told you, and what you had seen in the nightmares they had given you, he was hiding some very impressive wings under that trench coat. What were you supposed to do with this information now? The two people you had grown to love more than anyone else weren’t even human, apparently, and they had kept that from you the whole time you had known them. What else could they be lying about?

Immediately, you felt awful for even entertaining such a terrible thought. You knew it wasn’t like that. You could tell just by the look of pure remorse on Aziraphale’s face. Crowley was too much of a sweetheart at his core to hurt you needlessly. You wouldn’t treat them any different at all. You would accept them for who they were, just as they had accepted you with all your faults. You lifted a shaky arm towards the pair, pulling yourself back into the moment.

“Help me up?” They didn’t hesitate to come forwards, Crowley going to one side and Aziraphale going to the other to lift you as gently as they could off the ground. You groaned quietly as your aching body was made to move, but your boys held onto you, letting you lean on them for support. The moment he was sure that you wouldn’t collapse on them, Crowley dropped his hands and stepped back to where he had been before. Aziraphale did not. His fingers dug into the fabric around your waist almost as if he were afraid to let you go. You remembered the last time you had seen him, when he told you that he loved you and how reluctant he had been to let you leave even then. You turned around so that he was now holding you properly in his arms and placed your hands on his chest.

“Are you alright?” Aziraphale startled and looked straight at you for the first time, completely bewildered. His grip on you lessened quite a bit, but he still did not let go.

“Y-you’re asking me if I’m alright? Have you seen yourself?”

“No, actually, but I’d imagine I’m not looking too hot at the moment.” Aziraphale appeared to have lost the power of speech. He sputtered, opening and closing his mouth like a fish while trying to find the words, any words, to say.

“Not too hot?! I can’t believe you, I really can’t. After everything—”

“You know, I’d really prefer it if you didn’t mention it, if you don’t mind.” You interrupted. “I promise I will let you therapize and rehabilitate me to your heart’s content later, but right now, I just want to make sure that you’re alright.”

The process of Aziraphale understanding what you had said was clear in the expressions on his face. At first, he was still baffled at your seemingly blasé attitude towards your kidnapping and torture. Then, you could see the change in him as he slowly realized what you had said. You knew it had clicked when Aziraphale’s mouth dropped open, and you had to hide your amusement when his eyes widened in genuine surprise. You evidently hadn’t been fast enough because Aziraphale quickly attempted to reel himself in, blinking and clearing his throat. He swallowed audibly.

“So…you…what I mean to say is—” He cut himself off. He bit the inside of his cheek, but you could tell that he was trying to hide the way his lips had begun to tremble ever so slightly. “After everything, you aren’t…you…you want to see me again?” Your heart broke at how shyly hopeful he sounded. You grinned, lifting your hands to frame his beautiful face. One of his hands flew to cover yours, his thumb stroking your knuckles absentmindedly.

“Of course, you silly man. Though I suppose I should call you Angel, now, huh?”

“I will never be able to tell you how sorry I am about that, Y/N. I wanted to tell you, truly I did. I even planned to more than once, but I could never summon the courage. I will never forgive myself for what they did to you, those horrible, vile—” He broke off when you lifted onto your tip toes to press your lips to his cheek. He stared down at you in shock.

“We don’t have to talk about any of that right now, Azi. Really, we don’t have to talk about it at all, although I know you’ll need to get it off your chest eventually. I’m just glad that I have my boys back. All the rest, we can deal with later.”

Aziraphale couldn’t stop himself. He had waited all these months pinning for you, never once thinking that you could possibly feel the same. And then, on the night he had tried to force you to leave him by saying all those wicked things, you’d told him that you loved him too. After weeks of not knowing where you were, but not being able to look for you, after seeing what the angels had done to you, after feeling you here, alive and in his arms and looking at him like that, he couldn’t stop himself from tilting his head and leaning down to (finally) plant a kiss on your lips.

Your reaction was instant. Your hands dropped from his face to go around his neck, pulling him farther down so that you could feel his lips more fully against your own. He pulled you in closer, feeling the desperate urge to never let you out of his sight again. You sighed into the kiss, prompting Aziraphale to put a slow and reluctant end to it. You were still in public, after all, with an audience. The both of you pulled apart, unwilling to end the moment. 

Aziraphale opened his eyes before you did and took great joy in being able to watch your serene face for the few moments your eyes stayed shut. He felt a sharp pang in his heart as your eyelids fluttered open, almost as though you had just awoken from a very pleasant dream. Your smile could have lit up a room, and it was all for him. He almost couldn’t take it. He could feel Crowley’s excitement radiating off of him, but he ignored his friend. You were the only thing that mattered. He raised a hand to tuck a bit of your hair behind your ear, smiling serenely down at you.

“So…what does this mean, then?” You asked, hating that you had to interrupt the moment that you were having, but needing to know the answer. After everything, you needed Aziraphale in your life more than ever, and if he didn’t feel the same, now was the time to break it off. You couldn’t wait around for him to stop being afraid to love you, you needed it to happen now.

Aziraphale wanted to say many things, but something was holding him back. He frowned inwardly, confused. What was making him hesitate? Every inch of his body wanted to fly to you, to stay wrapped protectively around you until the Universe finally burned into nothing. But there was some small, wriggling thing trying to grasp his attention, fluttering around on the wind—

That damned prophecy! “When alle is fayed and all is done, ye must choose your faces wisely, for soon enouff ye will be playing with fyre”. Fire…Aziraphale had to talk to Crowley about it. He couldn’t quite parse it on his own, although the “faces” part was fairly straightforward. He refocused his attention on you, and felt his heart twinge at the mix of emotions on your face.

“My deepest apologies, dearest, I was lost in thought. What this means—” he took your face in both of his hands, holding you as the precious gift you were, “Is that Crowley and I unfortunately have one very small thing that we must take care of to ensure that any loose ends get tied up. After we have finished with that…”

Aziraphale trailed off. All of his insecurities, all of his doubts that he wasn’t good enough for you, that you would turn him away, especially after what his kind had done to you, raced to the forefront of his mind and stopped his mouth. You frowned a little, but slowly, realization dawned on you and your expression turned sad. You lifted your hands to cover his.

“Aziraphale, listen to me. I love you. I will continue to love you for the foreseeable future. I want to be with you. I just…I need to know if that’s what you want, too. If it’s not, I will understand, but I can’t keep waiting, Azi. I need you to tell me what—”

You were interrupted by Aziraphale’s lips crashing into yours once again, this time with much more urgency, like he was trying to answer you with the kiss. Before you could sink into the kiss, he pulled away, his eyes wide.

“Of course that’s what I want, my darling. I will stay by your side for as long as you will have me. I love you too, and I am so very sorry for everything—” You stopped him with a finger to his lips.

“Shh. I said I don’t want to talk about that right now.” You dropped your hands and grinned. “Well, I suppose you’ll be stuck with me forever then.”

The smile that Aziraphale gave you was so utterly pure that it almost broke your heat.

“Then I suppose I am fortunate that there’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with, aren’t I?”

________________________________________________________________

The swap had gone perfectly. Each side was completely bamboozled by their trick, and equally terrified of the possibilities it implied. Crowley had been absolutely chuffed at how well his plan had gone off. Aziraphale was equally pleased to be done with the whole situation—that is, at least until the next Big Thing showed itself. But for now, everything was put to rights.

Nearly everything, that is.

Crowley hadn’t even needed to ask before dropping Aziraphale off at your apartment, where they had left you. Even after your conversation on the airfield, Aziraphale could feel his nerves skyrocket as Crowley pulled into park in front of the building. He tried to even his breathing, but it didn’t seem to be working.

“Angel, you’re going to hyperventilate” said Crowley, unhelpfully. Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I know that, thank you.” Aziraphale loved Crowley, he really did, but sometimes the Demon’s lack of a bedside manner really irritated—oh. Aziraphale looked down to wear Crowley had put his hand on top of Aziraphale’s trembling one. He looked over at his friend, whose head was turned away from Aziraphale, towards the driver side window.

“Listen, Angel. You’ve made a lot of mistakes. I’m frankly surprised that she still wants you after everything—” Aziraphale yanked his hand out from under his friend’s and moved to get out of the car.

“Really, Crowley, you’re not helping.”

“No, Aziraphale, listen to me.” Crowley sounded annoyed now, and when Aziraphale looked back at him, the Demon was staring back at him. 

“She loves you. Despite everything that has happened, she wants to stay with you. That means a lot, Angel. You’ve got something real special with her, you know. Almost as special as us. I know you’ll want to have a therapy sesh with her, but promise me you’ll hold off on that until you’ve had a proper reunion alright? She just needs you to be with her right now. She doesn’t need Aziraphale the Angel, she needs her Azi. Make sense?”

Aziraphale didn’t notice until Crowley stopped talking, but he had apparently started crying during Crowley’s speech, and now he reached up to wipe his tears away. On pure impulse, he reached out to pull his oldest friend into a tight hug, putting all of his love and gratitude into the embrace. After a few moments, he felt Crowley awkwardly tap his shoulder and Aziraphale pulled back, knowing how important personal space was to the other being.

“Thank you, dear boy.” With that, he got out of the car and headed to the apartment, pausing to wave goodbye to Crowley. Aziraphale took a deep breath and rung the bell to your flat.

Tag List:

@chelsfic @lordbeezyprinceofhell @bi-andreadyto-cry @petalduck @dreamerkim @stripedbugs @caligirl1992 @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen @laszlossssss @fayeriee @okay-j-hannah​ @plantsbringhappiness​

PLEASE tell my if you want to be added/taken off/have asked before but I’m stupid so you don’t see your name here!!!!

[poke-entomology]

A Tentacool Story

Chap 10, yeah! Who'd have thought? This whole project started as a joke and now it has a small following! Nice! Let's see if this link thing works... ah yeah, there it goes.

Chapter 10: Cool beach episode

'The group wastes no time exploring the ocean. Well, the bay anyway. Most of us injured ones stick close to the shore and build up our strength. It's amazing how many fish there are, even this close to land! Amazing what a little conservation and NOT having trainers dump their pets in a random lake with no care in the world does for the ecological health of our wetlands and estuaries!'

'…ahem.'

'The locals are surprised to see so many pokemon swimming down from the river, especially when it's nowhere near hatching season. Even more so when they're led by a Tentacool! A few of us regale the audience of seabirds and seadogs and sea… rocks? Corsola's typing never really made sense to me. But they sure do look entertained! It's kinda nice being looked at with admiration like this, I could get used to this feeling.'

'There's no random, convenient Chansey around here to heal our wounds, but the locals are nice enough to share some berries with us. Where do water dwelling pokemon get access to tree growing berries, you ask? Hydroponics! I mean, if they can grow in potted plants, on bushes that die immediately after harvesting, on trees that grow exactly one and only one berry per day, and on tropical trees alongside other berries that ought to have no reason or rhyme to what type of species of berry they drop other than slight statistical variation based on location but are wholly considered to be the same tree species, then by all means they can grow underwater!'

'Sorry about the mini-rant, theoretical diary, I didn't do well in science at trainer school. Apparently there's some big reason as to why this all works, but I just never got it.'

'But hey, everyone is coming together again!'

"Hey all, enjoy your swim?"

-"Karp!"

-"Gol!"

"Haha, yeah it's been wild here to. Lots of new pokemon I've never seen in person before! And none of which have tried to eat us! So polite. A real nice change of pace, yeah?"

Everyone seems glad, not just for the lack of annoying crabs snipping at their fins, but for all the space. The wide open waters full of food and places to hide. Tall sea grasses and dense coral reefs. A new life.

"Well don't let me hold you back. I'm feeling up for a little exploration myself now that I'm rested, so go on. Make some friends! Pick out a little slice of heaven for yourselves. Eat a- what's that thing called? Not a grass, but that other thing? With the fluff?"

-"Goldeen?"

"Algae! Yes, that. Gosh, so embarrassing!" 'They seem to get a laugh out of that. It feels… it feels like a real adventure with friends. I hope I get to have lots of memories just like this now. Strange, I've never felt so- so free! This whole place, the sights, the sounds, the food! I've never seen such a beautiful-'

Tentacool is unceremoniously ripped into the air and held aloft on the end of a string.

"…"

-"…"

"Hello sir, my name is-"

-"Too small."

"Hey, fuck you t-" splash "RUDE!"

Jessie swims a bit farther down the shoreline, nursing a sore mouth.

'The nerve of some people. I mean, I got a free meal out of it, but still! Ooow!' "Hey guy, is it always like this?"

A chubby looking Remoraid bobs in the current. -"Rem… raid."

"I mean, I guess. But if it hurts in the first place, why would they use hooks shaped like that?"

-"Raid?"

"Like a cute chibi version of themselves or something! I don't know!"

-"Rem?"

"Oh, it means small and exaggerated proportions to elicit a feeling of wanting to adore or cherish."

-"Rem… raid."

"Yeah, it's pretty cute. Nothing like those metal hooks. Anyways, good talk. Not everyone would take the time to chat with the new guy in the pond, ya know? It's really making me feel more at home."

slow, precious smile

'Yep, unless I'm starving or feel like battling against trainers, it's probably better for me to stick my jelly butt FAR away from any fishermen. If that dumb crab tried to make a meal out of me, I don't wanna know what a dumb human would wanna do with me!'

'But it's about time I met back up with the gang. Don't wanna keep them too long. No telling what trouble that lot would get into without their wise leader there to guide-' yank

"NOT AGAIN!!!"

[ngc-5194]

Lemon my lovebird!!! Hiiiiii hope you're having a beautiful day 💛💛💛 for the hc asks, how about 💤👗😺 for Joshua Kiryu, pretty please?

happi!!!! hi!!!! 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗!!!!!!!

and ooooh mister yoshiya himself huh

💤 A headcanon about their sleep

Technically does he need to sleep, no. But... that doesn't ban him from sleeping. Plus consistantly downscaling his Vibe - or even just holding it at a lower level - to hang out with his friends has to be at least somewhat taxing. Yeah I know he's an Angel shush he clearly still gets tired. But, the thing about him, is that he's himself. He refuses to make anything simple. So. The times he sleeps most frequently is quick naps, never long enough to count as a full night's rest. And. He will only sleep around other people if he Trusts them. Which means... mostly Neku. So, congrats Mr. Emo, you get one asshole God friend who will only really willingly display Human Things like sleeping when around you. And may or may not time his naps just to piss you off.

👗 A headcanon about their clothes

I'm just going to say it, as tmasc swag as his fit may be, he needs better every day clothes. No, I don't care that his 'real form' is swirly light without need for clothes, he is the Blandest-looking homosexual to walk the streets of Shibuya and one of his friends is a fashion designer. This crime can not be allowed to continue. He likes gothic lolita stuff let him wear a cute frilly dress with his parasol all the time cowards.

But, speaking of his neutral-coloured button-up shirts and jeans wearing boring ass. That... is probably approximately what he died in. Obviously not exactly the same as he has a different outfit in NEO but... I mean you don't wear exactly the same outfit for [an unknown amount of] years, especially not one that Boring, unless it has some sort of significance. So I can only assume he was wearing something akin when he. crossed over to where he decided he belonged.

😺 An animal-related headcanon

Listen I get that he's got all of his bird symbolism around him what with the wings and the feathers and the literally everything, and I get that it also meshes with Neku's cat symbolism but. I can not help but feel that Josh hates birds. He's enough of a petty bitch for it okay. Like. Artistically speaking he sees the appeal of them. And then he's forced to actually walk around his city or heaven's forbid (they probably do actually) the rest of the world and. He'd pick a fight with a bird. And either crush it with a vending machine or lose horribly.

Fish though, fish he likes. For eating, for looking at, for keeping as pets. Fish he can do. Cats he... clearly enjoys. Dogs he probably doesn't mind. It's just birds.

[protokirby-sims4cc]

Hi, yalls. It's @protokirby. Got me a simsfileshare account so I'm gonna start publicly sharing my sims cc. All my successes were graciously given to me by the Lord God of heaven, who gives me strength. I thank Him for the motivation and stuff I have to do all this

Sims file share being weird so. Check this out. AmplyChaotic | Patreon In my posts I'll have the link embedded. I don't like the way patreon links look. But in case tumblr decides to kill an embed, the un-embedded patreon link will also be under a "read more" line.

I mostly do model conversions and recolors of existing sim outfits. Rarely do I have the motivation to construct something. I plan to take requests. Feel free to request stuff. If you want a model from a game converted and if I can find the model somewhere/if you provide a model, I might try to turn it into sims cc for ya. My mental disorders/life stuff may heavily delay things but I do like to do things for folks if I can.

Plenty of my cc stuff has an additional color swatch with inverted colors because I wanted those. Sometimes there are more additional color swatches than that for various reasons.

If any of my cc is weird/broken in the game, let me know. I'm kinda dumb so I won't always know how to fix things, but I can try!

Terms of use:

Don't claim as your own. Don't try and sell any of it anywhere. And absolutely don't do anything related to ai stuff. That's the trashiest of trash. (I heard sims cc can be messed with in ai things. Dunno if that's true or not but just in case. DO NOT.)

Aside from the rules listed above, there are no other rules unless specified in a post. Have fun. You can even recolor stuff and post those recolors somewhere if you want (not on paysites) but please link to me if you do :D

List of tags and tag descriptions under the keep reading that will organize things and help people find things:

proto's build mode cc build mode stuff like wall tiles/floor tiles/doors

proto's object cc objects to put in the sims house

proto's miscellaneous cc This is going to be for things such as smaller franchises or other stuff that doesn't do much. For anything not in a bigger tag. Also my custom eyes cc is on this one

proto's alternate universe cc cc related to au stuff

proto's anime cc for cc of anime or manga characters. I will probably forget this one exists very frequently in favor of the miscellaneous cc tag

proto's pokemon cc self explanatory

proto's megaman cc self explanatory

proto's digimon cc self explanatory

proto's pet cc stuff related to pets such as costumes. anything with this tag will of course require either the cats and dogs expansion or the horse ranch expansion, that will be specified in the post

proto's joke cc you can expect dumb stuff here

proto's merfolk cc Merfolk tails. Those will need the island living expansion

[artemistheauthor]

Hello hello! First off; yes! Making characters can and will be hard, especially if you're worried about accidentally making them Just Be X With A New Name. You're completely valid, and good luck with your magic systems!

Now! OCs are actually rather easy for me, so I'm going to break them down for you!

Tldr; Use the traits of those around you; your likes and dislikes are great; character sheets are NOT one size fits all; drawing helps; don't worry too much about the quantity of characters; TALK TO PEOPLE; make a name bank; for heaven's sake please open a story bible with a character's chapter; running gags; what if questions are genuinely your best friend; make characters you'd read about.

Cool now bear with me this is a little disorganized but I think I hit all the important bits:

When I was a baby writer, just seven and incapable of shame, I had two character types: I like this name, and This Is A Person I Know. This week, I dove into my 12-14 yo writing and got to sit and stare at these characters I barely remember; this is important. Even though I barely remember the CHARACTERS, I remember the friends I based them off of, what those people mean to me, and I can and will mirror those impressions as I finally write that novel.

Thus, strategy 1; pick your favorite (or least favorite!) things about 1-3 people and apply them to a character!

I have another OC who's purpose is to be The Dad Character so he's based off of my two favorite uncles. (The traits in question are Stay at home dad, anxiety, good hugs, works in a corner of the government that only makes sense to him, and his haircut. If those seem contradictory, that's because there are 2 uncles and 2 dad characters. They mix and match).

FlipTip 1; Don't just make characters!

You're looking at me weird, I'm sure; "but wait, I want to make characters!' And you will. But there's a reason that the Dream Team Formula ranges from 2-5, sometimes 6, in writing. If you bog yourself down with too many characters, you'll be too busy with them to write.

When I say don't just make characters, I mean don't make them just to make them (unless you're into that, in which case do, I have some that don't have a novel they're just fun to draw); I have a cast of 15 in a novel and while most of them have reasons now, at the time I just wanted to give one to each of my friend group. The amount of characters who's plots were decided when I was drafting the end of the storyline was A Lot. Some of them won't get enough screen time.

When you imagine the story, and the scenes, how many people are talking? How many points of view do you need?

This approach... doesn't work for everyone, I'll be honest, it's very technical, but the tip still applies. Don't make more characters than you need.

Strategy 2; Just make characters!

...But didn't I just say not to do this? Yes, yes I did. So here's the thing; making characters is like making art. Sometimes it just has to happen. Specifically, this could be called the drawing and/or picrew approach.

You pick up a piece of paper. You open a picrew. You draw something interesting. You lay out a super aesthetic character. Now. You have a character. Throw yourself at a name generator (I'm particularly partial to This One), find something fun. Congratualtions! This is an OC!

Now you're looking at me and saying no, this is a picture. Well, a picture is worth a thousand words, isn't it? Look at the features on this character. What are they wearing? Are they bloody? Are they smiling? Hiding a laugh? Sneering? Are they upside down on a couch like a sneaky little gremlin? Pretend you're seeing them on the street. What would you assume about them? What were you thinking when you gave them that trait? Are they hugging someone? Petting a cat? Holding a fan?

Cool! Now let's see where we can go with that. Are they allergic to cats but have the lactose intolerant attitude, which is to say; yes they make me miserable but life without them isn't worth living? Are they a history geek who thinks fan language is cool af? Are they NOT a history geek but Fan Language is cool enough that they don't care it makes them learn about victorian culture? Do they get into fights a lot? Do they rarely get into fights but when they do they're feral? Are they humorously clumsy? Do they have a mental illness? Did someone in their family just die? Is that hair clip an heirloom from seven generations back and part of a set but there are six kids in this family after generations of only children so the jewelry set got split up?

Flip Tip 2: Don't give them too many traits.

But humans have loads of traits, don't they? Yes, yes they do. The point isn't to make your characters 1 or 2 dimensional, but to give them room to grow! If your character has too many traits hammered out before they touch the page, you'll likely run into one of these; it'll be just as OP I realized I've been using the general you wanted, and easy to drop a premade person into a new story, OR (and this is the dangerous part) they don't have time or room to grow and sometimes they don't fit nicely into the story.

Personally, I don't think OP will have too many issues with this bc starting from fanfic makes you pretty dang good at that, but it's worth mentioning. Approach your OCs like your blorbo side character; you have their 1-4 canon traits and the rest is Free Real Estate, baby.

I understand this approach isn't that much different anyway, but I also know full well that sometimes framing is all it takes to get past a mental block.

Strategy 3: Make them as you go.

You don't have to have everyone set up before you start writing the adventure! If someone new needs to come in, pick a name, maybe what they look like, and just let them walk in. Especially if the MC is meeting the character at the same time as the reader, it doesn't matter if you know everything from the get go. Sometimes, it's fun to learn about people as your reader does!

However, if you're using this approach, for the love of all things vanilla extract make yourself a Story Bible I am begging you. Every time you introduce someone, write down their name and a short sentence about them; especially side characters. I promise you, you're going to forget someone's name. Now, you could either make it a running gag in the storyline that no one can remember their name or they have a host of nicknames, or you could go back meticulously over the last scene they were in and get yanked out of your writing flow.

Actually, do this with ANY APPROACH. I don't care how you make your characters, make yourself a database too. If this is a list of names, good, if this is a slideshow, good, if it's a sketchbook page, good, if it's a document full of character aesthetics, good, if it's a pinned post on your blog, good, if it's a discord braindump, good, if it's a 500p document of full blown dnd or Brandon Sanderson (?) character sheets, good. There are so many ways to do it. Just have a database please.

Flip Tip 3: [ ]

No flip tip because I have YET to find a drawback to keeping a story bible/database. Ig you could use it to procrastinate actually writing but especially since this is fighting issues with OC development, that's not actually a bad thing.

Strategy 4: Use your own interests!

Writing, at it's heart, is a voyeuristic or escapist hobby. Yeah, yeah, come at me. Anyway; people have interests! People have hyperfixations! There are so many jokes about writers looking up the oddest things that never even end up in the book! Give that to your characters! I went ice skating and decided that it would awesome to have a figure skating character! You know what that decision gave me? An excuse to watch figure skaters, a love for costuming, a topic for filler conversations, and a bonding activity between her and other characters! It's lovely! Is there something you love to watch or hear about? Give that interest to one of your characters! It helps so much, and if it's something that brings you joy, it adds more joy to the act of working on that story or with that character; I promise you, we all have blorbos for a reason.

Flip Tip 4: Use things you don't like!

...look there's probably something fun or clever to say about this, but all I have is that not all people share the same opinions and sometimes giving a character opinions that directly oppose your and the rest of the casts' gives the cast as a whole a more genuine vibe.

Strategy 5: NAME BANK / JK ROWLING IT

There are two ways to spin this. One follows strategy 3; make a list of names you like, or, if worldbuilding applies, culture-specific names for you to draw from, especially if you need a random bartender or teacher or whatever. Sometimes it takes too long to come up with or hunt down a name. Personally, I use my character Databank more than a random list of names, bc I have name generators ready to go, and they're already there in the background (this also helps me flesh them out, as sometimes you have a vibe without anything to match it to!) but it really does/can depend on what the oc is needed for. Now, JKRing it means to take name meanings.

Again, two ways to do this. 1) you have the vibe for the character, so you look into the interwebs and ask for names to do with their vibe. 2) you have a name, so you look up what it means. Especially with flower names (aka one of my favorites), or gemstones, there's A WHOLE LOT of symbolism you can take and reuse for this. Or mythology names! There's a reason Janus is a common fanon middle name for Danny Fenton and I promise it has everything to do with his mythos as a doorway spirit.

Names are just SO COOL.

Strategy 2. 5 / 5.5: COLOR SCHEME THEM! We've all seen Scooby-Doo, or Powerpuff Girls, or Winx, or Power Rangers, or Danny Phantom, etc, etc, etc. Give your characters a motif color! Give them an outright motif!

Flip Tip: Don't take symbolism too seriously.

Look, when I say use symbolism, I mean as symbolism. If that's their only character trait or dimension, they're not gonna be very cool. Use it as a FACET, not their whole thing. If you use a bunch of them, they'll blend and you'll end up with something really cool!

Do this with archetypes too; there's nothing wrong with archetypes, but often if your only trait for the character is they fit X archetype, they're going to be one of those ones that people call shallow behind your back.

(Or maybe this only happens with MLB, idk; point is, you wanted tips on genuine characters, here are mine <3)

Strategy 6: Don't use a character sheet!

Yeah someone is going to hate me for this. The REASON, though, is that I often find myself going into character sheets and it's all this jargon about likes, and dislikes, and angel traits, and bad habits, and favorite color and backstory, and... I guess they bog me down? I did it, I really did and have tried, I've even gotten the super fancy 7 page ones! They just don't work for me. I keep lists of names, appearances, powers, and the character's elevator pitch/my favorite things about them/if I had to hand them off to another writer here are the Most Important Things. (Including That One Article Of Clothing They Definitely Have, You Know The One)

Flip tip 6: Obviously this is to use one.

I said it, character sheets and I Do Not Work, but I'm sure they do for some people, and sometimes those 7-page-behemoths-that-just-steal-my-time-on-earth have good questions! Try a simple one, try a complex one, and if they don't work then put them to the side. Maybe you'll find one that works super well! Maybe you'll try seventeen and have to make your own.

Strategy 7: Don't get attached to their appearance and motifs!

Idk if the motif part is important here, but humans are creatures of change, and your characters should reflect that! I really enjoy using physical/visible markers of character growth - ie, the 11yo who was attacked by a serial killer keeps her hair long but pinned up so no one else can yank her around by it; symbolizing trust issues outside of Her People. The 17yo who feels comfortable in her skin, scars and all, gets a bob cut and keeps it short. In between those two are ponytails and braids and letting new friends brush her hair because it's something that, to her, equals trust and intimacy. and her brother murdering the serial killer

Maybe you're drawing your character and this detail just works differently, keep the new one! Maybe your character dies their hair a host of colors throughout the book as they discover themselves! Maybe they change their style to reflect something from a loved one; maybe it's a loved one they hated once! Maybe it's a new scar, or no longer hiding an old one!

I remember someone else on character design once said to draw them a lot of times with only the vaguest links, because picking all the details on the first go can bog them down. (Think beta designs and concept art)

Change in character design can be symbolic, or it can just be because you decided this makes more sense FOR the character, or the story.

Don't make your characters so static it hurts them, you, or the story.

Flip Tip 7: ...? unless they're a shapeshifter don't spend so much time on design that you don't do anything else? Idk man leave room for your characters to grow.

Strategy 8: Talk to people! Journal about yourself!

Experience is the best teacher, and especially when hunting down quirks for your characters, real life is a great place to hunt them down! We were all weird kids once, and getting those stories are a great resource for character development. There's ALSO sleepover games and get to know you games, which can be used as things to ask your characters, or used on real people! Some cool things just click, and deserve to be made immortal in writing!

Flip tip 8: If you're heavily basing something off of someone's personal experience, especially if it's not a funny experience but an extremely personal one, please either change it enough to not ping on their radar or get permission. Maybe both. ESPECIALLY if it was said in confidence.

Strategy 9: FANFICS

"but we're making OCs!" Yes I know. Hear me out anyway.

Fanfics are easy because we already have half or most of the supplies. Once you have your characters started and going, put them in different situations, outside of the main storyline, to help you get a feel for them. I'm really not sure how to explain it better than that, but once you're able to get into a character's headspace you're in their headspace and it just works.

Flip tip 9: Watch your worldbuilding

blah blah, something something, plagiarism, phrasing, make sure any character decisions made in another universe can carry over to your main one, sometimes this takes changing things, I could probably make more sense but I'm slightly falling asleep atm; If you toss characters into BNHA or ATLA and have them play with and learn their powers, AWESOME! Now apply that information to your own world with your own worldbuilding terms. Sometimes the transition is funky. Sometimes it's not. Good luck, I believe in you.

People who do aus do this all the time, I'm sure it's possible, I'm only passably good at it.

Strategy 10: Running gags!

Or recurring items, etc. I have a character with an inexplicable love of potatoes; the figure skater; multiple restless dead; etc, etc. If you give a character a trait, bring it back, and sometimes those traits will be baffling! Maybe the running gag is that they have 7 of the same jacket in multiple colors, maybe they can't pronounce cinnamon, maybe they always carry sticky notes in their purse, maybe they're the conspiracy character who's always right but is either never believed or figures it out too late. Danger prone Daphne did it again, Potter luck, whatever it's called when people repeatedly reference an event or location but never actually SAY what happened there, maybe someone has a love for sock puppets that comes up now and again, maybe there's an item that always end in disaster.

Cartoons know what they're doing.

Strategy 11: Just think on them.

I do a lot of my OC building in my head when I'm out and about, or when I'm drawing them and my mind is quiet, or when I'm thinking about how to layer foreshadowing.

Don't be afraid to go back and change things; your OCs don't need to be one and done.

Flip Tip: Please please please WRITE IT DOWN

I once came up with the perfect nickname for a character, went to write it down, got distracted, 20m later I couldn't remember it and I've never come up with a replacement that vibed so wonderfully.

Strategy 12: PERSONAL SYMBOLISM

Nnngggg the top of my head rec for this is Heir To The House Of Prince on ao3 and it is, specifically, the thing where you bring back something that has happened or is said to your characters in a meaningful way between them. In HTTHOP it's something about keeping each other's secrets, and I know there are other examples I am just really tired and my brain is shutting down but it's things like two characters who willingly initiated a soulbond referring to each other as soulmates, it's the dorky little comments about roommates or best friends coparenting a pet, it's the personal shows of affection between people who've grown up together, it's the things that make no sense or mean nothing to those outside of Them; those are meaningful and add depth to any sort of relationship. Love you to the moon and back, except maybe it's one of Jupiter's moons because one of them is an astronomy nerd; "Don't get murdered!" "I haven't yet!" between the mc and the villian's kid; maybe it's the three squeezes for I love you, or chamomile tea with mint leaves, or sharing coffee, maybe it's "Always," or "I never stopped" or "I'd kill them for you".

Give your characters, give your relationships, something that is meaningful to them. Give them inside jokes, give them throwbacks, give them jewelry they wear when they need to feel like someone is supporting them, give them something to pretend is their support's hand, give them the blanket/jacket/shawl they can throw over their shoulders when they need a hug that's not available, then show me them taking that off or throwing it over BOTH of them when they finally see their loved one again.

I know this was a behemoth of a post, but I hope it helps! I've been doing this for years, and the most important thing I've found is to keep trying things! No two of my characters were developed in exactly the same way, and I'm constantly trying new things because there's SO MANY options and opportunities!

I think what helps me the most is finding as much joy in life as possible? That's so corny but the thing is; I build my best characters when they becomes beans and blorbos and children I love. Sometimes that means ripping them to pieces and making them put them back together. Sometimes it means a happy ending.

And this does apply for angst! Goodness gracious the amount of murder in my stories because I find it enjoyable to read and write about would NOT be acceptable in polite society but it is in my novels because I'm writing them and the character needs that and I need that.

Really hope this helps!

Hello, fellow fanfic writers (and everyone else who decides to take a look at this post) of Tumblr! I just have a random question to ask. Have any of you tried to write original fiction only to find yourself struggling with some aspect of it, be it creating your own characters, building your own world, designing your own magic system, etc? Cuz I have, and I've decided my personal biggest problem is probably creating an entire cast of brand new characters and making them feel like real people, not caricatures. I've figured out work arounds for building of my own worlds, and have actually started dabbling in magic system creation for fun as practice, but for some reason, I just can't make up my own cast of OCs without feeling like they're all fake, pale imitations of the real thing. I'm thinking of getting someone else to create my characters for me so it feels more like I'm taking characters from somewhere else and just plopping them into my own world, fanfiction style, cuz I KNOW how to do THAT. I dunno, guess I'm looking for validation or something? Maybe to give others in my situation a bit of camaraderie? Lol if anyone has any other ideas for how to get better at creating and fleshing out a full cast of OCs after having only created the occasional OC for background supporting character purposes for the past seven, eight years, feel free to share 😅

[aquarii-writes]

When they think of you(Multiple)

This is kind of a collective for the phrase I think the boys would use for you. As always reader is gender neutral as well no Ranboo cause 1- child and 2- it also makes me uncomfy to see that type of stuff as a minor as well

WC: a lot(1,497 words)

Genre: Fluff maybe angst?

WARNINGS/Notes: General talks of what happened through out the smp(not many specifics cause I'm lazy). As well it's kind of hinted that reader is AFAB but they/them is used; I switch between feminine/masculine pet names and references so deal with that as you wish

DREAM

I think Dream would always kinda hold you in high regard

Like no matter his mental state in the timeline he kinda always holds you on a pedistal of 'they are my safe space. I'm okay with them'

Especially after he looses everyone when he's in Pandora's Vault

So he always equates you to being his everything

"I'm not into the idea of living without you"

"We were under the same sky atleast" for when he's more desperate

GEORGENOTFOUND

George is a sleepy bastard and he dreams about you a lot

Like an unsettling amount

When he isn't awake 9 times out of 10 he's probably dreaming of/about you

They get pretty detailed at times

But he will always say "My love and I could dance in a burning room and I would only see them"

SAPNAP

Wholesome cowboy

Literally like a puppy at your feet. He follows you everywhere when he's not busy

He'll do anything for you because you complete him

He brings out a louder part of your personality while you calm him down. He isn't always rushing around when wrapped in your arms

He always says "For you, I'll risk it all" primarily because he will risk everything to be sure you're okay

He also watched Bbh's relationship flourish on those same words

AWESAMDUDE

Depends on which persona he's looking at you with tbh

As the Warden he always sees you as kinda helpless(no matter how capable you are)

He also kinda sees you as a dream. Like he can't believe that you exists type beat

Not in a bad way just 'omg I love you so much how could someone like this be real?'

So he calls you a fairytale. "My favorite fairytale to never finish."

But as normal Sam he just loves you so much

Constantly telling you that he believes that you're his safe person

"Sometimes I think you're heaven and I just haven't realized"

When he says this you'll probably be sleeping

BBH

His persona also heavily effects how he sees you

Normally Bad is just head over heels for you anyways and unintentionally infantilizes you a lot

Not because he sees you as a helpless baby/child but purely because you're so much smaller than him

He's been alive for a hot minute and even by demon standards he fucking tall

Foolish and Ranboo are the only people he's seen get close to his height/be taller than him

"For you, I'll risk it all" he's always tell you once he knew you were asleep

But when he's infected by the egg he more intentionally treats you like you're stupid

Not child like per say just dumb

But he thinks you're too pretty to try and use threats to make you turn to the egg

Always telling you "I could've easily killed you and made you join the egg, but your pretty eyes stop me every time. You make me feel so dizzy sweetheart"

FUNDY

We love daddy AND mommy issues don't we chat?

But lowkey me too

I can see Fundy simultaneously being very clingy but very distant. Like physically the man will never let you go unless he has to but he refuses to admit his feelings exist.

So he loves you with everything he has but plays it off as jokes and pranks

So he likes to think to himself "I am comforted by thinking that maybe one day we'll look back and realize we have the most amazing love story" despite the fact he refuses to talk about his feelings

I can see this man being a helpless romantic not just me projecting

PUNZ

You're his support

Emotionally anyways

And since he's an assassin he knows that someone could kill him or you at anytime so he'll say "Our lives will end someday so kiss me anytime now"

Tbh in the right moments it can be very romantic

As well he loves to just keep you around so he can touch you. If he wasn't always alert he'd probably trip on you

"Let's keep the night alive pretty doll" he'd tell you if the two of you are running around on a date

Tbh he'd probably kiss you after either of these

WILBUR SOOT

Hahaha multiple quotess

But he rarely says them to you directly

Normal Wilbur pre/during L'Manburg

Mans is high on life and very proud of himself and so very very in love with you

Like I can't describe how stupidly in love with you this lanky stick is

Always describes you as other worldly and vaguely threatening

"They're a mess of other worldly chaos, can't you see it in their eyes?"

He can always see you as something beautiful and chaotic; you kinda have to be a little chaotic to love this man

During Pogtopia he becomes more reclusive and obsessive with getting L'manburg back and in turn he closes himself off to you

Slowly but surely you two lose connection and well he just doesn't see how hurt you are by it

He never talks to you anymore but you're still his primary support system.

Telling himself that you'll come back one day when in reality you've left Pogtopia to save yourself. He was too far gone to save now

"Loving them is the most beautifully self destructive thing I've ever done" he would say to himself as he blew up L'Manburg

As Ghostbur he only remembers the good times though he vaguely remembers you leaving him for some reason

He goes back to calling you other worldly and chaotic

Even though he's together with Friend the idea of you plagues his every thought

Once he's revived Wilbur tells you "We're not corpses yet love, why not spend this last time together again?"

You'll have to see just how promising the 3rd time is

JSCHLATT

Bastard man

But seriously while President so much shit happens it's surprising to me that he could possibly be a good lover

Doesn't matter how long the two of you were together before hand Schlatt progressively becomes more distant and rude to you through his presidency

You long to hear the complements from him again. Slightly mean but you knew that he meant it in a teasing way

Now they were just abusive

"Pretty (e/c) eyes so full of thought. Whatcha thinkin bout doll?" is what he'd say before delving into your head before

Now he's just a dick

As Glatt he's kinder but not by much

He always calls your eyes pretty and it's the first thing he thinks of when you come to mind

ERET

You can throw me good sir

They love you so much

He would give you the world and then some

She's so elegant too

Intimidatingly so and thus you don't talk to her much

He'd always write "Their heart is so afraid to pursue love but stays hidden in the moonless night. Always to be searching for eternity"

She writes poems to you before the two of you get together

QUACKITY

So lets begin you start out as this mans best friend and he tells you everything

From the hurt of his past relationships to the stupid ideas he has to further his jokes

But once Las Nevadas is around he's closed himself off to everyone but you

To himself he'll say that you will always be enough for him "(y/n) you are enough, a thousand times you are enough for me"

He's a sweetheart, but it's hard to get to with all the trauma and hurt he holds

KARL JACOBS

Darling sweet boy <3

Celestial bodies are the only consistent things in time

So to him you are his moon

"My moon and stars they are always with me. With out them I am nothing" is what he will write in his books

As his memory degrades and fades he will always call you his moon

Gentle pulling of the tides you pull him in

Karl may not always remember your name but he does remember why you're so interesting to him as well as why you're his moon

TECHNOBLADE

To him you're a god

Any god you choose he will find one you remind him off

"My worship of the gods extends to you darling"

For as closed off as Techno is he sees you as a comfort

You're there when he comes home at night and in his bed in the morning

You're his deity and he worships you like one

FOOLISH GAMERS

Himbo

Powerful but I find it funny how a lot of people characterize Foolish as a himbo

As someone so grand why waste words? Everything has been used to describe him and in turn yourself

If you're in a relationship with Foolish you're probably also a god/demi-god. If not that you're something similar to Philza

So Foolish always calls you beautiful. No matter how you present yourself you are always called beautiful

"My beautiful, beautiful partner"

[euphoriyoongi]

♥︎ Seven Deadly Sins ♥︎ ot7

♥︎ One ♥︎

*********************************************************

Summary: The seven princes of hell, who are the embodiment of the seven deadly sins, are sent on a mission to find the human with the purest soul. The prince who successfully retrieves the pure soul will become the next king..but what happens when all 7 of the princes fall in love with the beautiful soul?

♥︎ Pairings: ot7 x OC (original character)

♥︎ Genre: fantasy; fluff, smut, angst

♥︎Word Count: 4.0k

♥︎ Warnings: smut/sexual scenes and situations, heavy language, polyamory

♥︎Rating: Mature (18+)

prev. //next.

*********************************************************

The world is a hellish place, that's for sure.

Everywhere you look, you see some form of evil. Whether it be someone spending too much on a purse, or someone looking at themselves in the mirror thinking that they are the best thing since sliced bread.

The thing is, most of these humans don't realize what they're doing. They show little-to-no respect or gratefulness for the things they have. Most of them believe that they need more. That one dollar isn't enough. So then if they had a million...would that not be enough either?

It's all a race. For example, two brothers racing to have a better life when in reality they're just wasting it away to receive superficial things that will just be gone when they leave this world. It's idiotic, and self-centered. If people actually thought about how well they have it, they wouldn't sin. And well, every single human being sins on this planet. It's what makes it go around.

The person sitting next to you at a restaurant just ate his girlfriend's food of her plate. The waiter is stealing another waiters tip money. The owner of the restaurant is sleeping with someone else's wife. The customer threw his drink at the waitress because his food was too cold. The group of teenagers won't get up to leave to make room for the next group. Sin. It's all around. And there's no escaping it.

Well, unless you're the Pure Soul.

Choi Nari. Her name means Lily in English. And the name lily means "purity."

She's known for her ethereal looks, and cascading long black hair that flows so softly. She's sent from heaven, but has no idea of her origins. She only believes she's a human just like everyone else. And lives a life filled with peace and love.

She never harmed a single soul in all of her lifetimes. Once every hundred years, she is reborn, and every one of those years, she's avoided the devil, whom wants her all to himself. The reason? Well, you always want what you can't have, right? The devil is all sins, himself.

This reincarnation, however, will be a bit different. There's something different about her, and the only way she'll be able to avoid the devil is if she avoids sin.

The devil has his own plans, though. Hell stop at nothing to have her. He will send all of his seven sons to earth, for they need to bring her back alive so he could deal with her. And the son that successfully brings her back, will become the next king of hell.

His sons were the embodiment of the seven deadly sins. And his goal was to make the Pure Soul suffer all seven of them, and make her sin to have her all for himself.

If this plan works, he'd successfully take away all the food in the world. So, he hopes all seven of his boys will not falter at her beauty.

__

"You what us to do what?" Yoongi huffed at his father, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hell no, I'm not fucking leaving my soft bed for that."

Yoongi is the prince of laziness, and definitely lived up to his title. He dreamed of living as a rock in his next life, but sadly, his next life was never going to occur. He was immortal. There was ways he could die, though. But for now, the best he could do was imagine he was a rock while he slept.

The devil growled. "Sloth, you dare to deny me?"

All seven of the boys were gathered in the throne room, where the devil sat on a large chair that floated on flames. The room was all black, with a bit of red detailing.

The devil was very old. He wanted to retire the throne to one of his sons, but he didn't know which one he should give it to. They were all so untrustworthy and well, the only one who he probably could trust was the one who envisions himself as a rock. That's just sad.

When Yoongi didn't answer him, The devil's voice boomed across the high-ceilings. "God damnit sloth! You're so slow sometimes."

Smiling, Yoongi winked at his father. "It's what I do best, dad."

Still fuming, the devil looked towards his oldest son, who was currently eating a bowl of noodles. "I-how did you even get those?" He smacked a hand to his head, sighing. This was ridiculous.

Jin didn't even answer. He just kept slurping his noodles until his father got mad enough to move on with what he was saying.

"Listen, my sons. I need you to retrieve the Pure Soul."

"The pure soul?" Jimin smirked. "That hot ass chick from heaven?"

The devil smiled viciously. "Yes, that's right." Rubbing his hands together, he raised an eyebrow. "And son, I give you full permission to seduce her in any way." He laughed, knowing she wouldn't be able to cave in from his charm.

"So, she's hot? Does she need money?" Taehyung smirked as well, crossing his arms. "I could give her anything in the world."

This was getting out of hand. All he needed was for his boys to bring her back here. "Okay. Anyway, you have 100 days to bring this beast back here, got it? And none of you dare to get attached to her, or you'll be dead meat." He huffed, praying they wouldn't turn against him. Heh, praying. He hasn't done that in a while.

"She couldn't be any near attractive as me, father." Namjoon smiled. "You have nothing to worry about."

The devil hoped that were true, but he knew how beautiful this woman was, and also knew that his sons have never seen anyone like her. Even Lust, who's slept with countless demons and everything in between. He's never seen a pure soul. And even the devil himself wouldn't be able to resist.

“So, what do we get if we bring her back?” Taehyung smirked, looking at his brothers. They all looked as if they didn’t care. Well, except Jimin. He just wanted something to fuck. But Taehyung knew what he wanted. And what he wanted was to take his father’s place. His greed was strong for it, and wouldn’t stop for anything or anyone.

The devil smiled. Finally. He should’ve known it was going to be greed. He couldn’t turn down anything especially if he’ll get something out of it. “Well, the throne, of course.” He shrugged his arms upward, a sneer on his lips. “That is, if you earn it.”

“Oh, believe me, father. I will.” He laughed, looking towards his younger brother, Jungkook.

Jungkook was starting to get mad. He absolutely hated it when Taehyung would get whatever he wanted. It just wasn’t fair. As his eyes began to fade from a dark brown to a vibrant red, the prince of envy patted his shoulder. “Down, boy.”

His eyes faded back to their usual color. Envy was nice, when he wasn’t jealous. He was a sweetheart, and always seemed to be able to calm him down. He goes by Hobi, but his name is Hoseok.

“Alright. Now. Are you guys ready.” The devil growled impatiently. “Do you have everything you need?”

Every one of his sons nodded, except Yoongi. He was now sleeping while standing up. Was that even possible?

“Sloth!” The devil sneered, just waking him enough to blink. “Dammit I don’t even—Do you have everything you need?”

Yawning, he opened his mouth to mumble “have everything for what?”

Silence broke out among them. “You…you know what..just fucking go.” With the flick of his hand, the boys were now transported through time to the planet earth, where they now need to search for the Pure Soul. But wait..how will they find her?

__

South Korea

Spring time, 2021

The trees were blossoming. The beautiful colors of whites and pinks danced as the petals fell to the ground. Nari was enchanted with them. Their beauty was astounding. She wished she was like them, to be so graceful, even while they fell.

Her favorite season was spring. She lived a full twenty five years of life constantly waiting for spring to come back around every year. She loved to see the flowers bloom, and all the aromas of different plants. She wished she was one. They never had to worry about anything. They just looked pretty.

She never had any friends to share her happiness with. She always wished for some, praying to god that she won't be alone anymore. Was there a reason why she was? Was it because she always agreed with everyone? Was it because she was too nice?

Well, she was too nice, but she had no control over that. It's just how she was made. She didn't know she was from heaven. She only knew that her family died when she was small, and doesn't remember them. So she was alone in this world, lost and left to find her way through life. She only wished she had someone to love unconditionally, just like the couples she'd see as she'll walk down the streets.

Nari made her way back to her small apartment. It was perfect for her though. Just enough space for her to cohabitate with her cat, Mochi. There was one bedroom, and a living space that combined with the kitchen. A tiny bathroom was across from her room, but it was big enough to have a full-sized tub in it. She did like baths more than showers, anyway.

As she walked into her bedroom, her cat was sprawled out on its back on the bed, purring as it slept. Mochi was a happy cat, and loved belly rubs and being held. She’s never had a cat that loved as much attention as mochi did, and he was the type of cat that never wanted to leave her side.

“Hello, mochi mochi.” She smiled, giving him a little pet. “How’s my cutie?” The cat let out a large yawn, then started to stretch out his paws. “Ah. Big stretch.” She chuckled, letting the cat continue to sleep and walked over to her desk in front of the window.

All over it was scattered drawings and short poems she’d write when she was bored. There was something off with her, though, and she knew it. She always wondered why she flowed with everything that went on around her. No matter what it was, she’d agree with it. That includes relationships.

Nari has never been in one. Despite how stunningly beautiful she was, no one would give her the time of day. She also didn’t know her own beauty, which might be part of the reason. But was she meant to live alone in this world? Was that her purpose?

Feeling upset with herself, she walked over to her full-body mirror. There she stood, her long white dress flowed down past her knees, and her long black hair fell down towards her backside. She curled the ends of it today, feeling happy with the way it looked. Her eyes were a hazel type color, but closer to green that black. Her lips were a soft pink, that plumped and were Un-chapped. 

She was beautiful. No one would be able resist her. And now, the reason she’s never had a significant other was because she never let herself notice that someone was trying. That could be because god hated the idea of it. Her soul purpose was to keep sin away from taking over the world. He never expected her to start thinking for herself. She’s been reincarnated since the beginning of time. So why is she starting to think for herself?

 She spent 25 years of life without any sexual activity. Without anything special in her life. She never had a family, and works as an ice cream shop cashier. There’s nothing to her life. No purpose. She wanted to change that. But as soon as that thought went through her head, it left like a flicker of light.

__

“Dude, this is absolutely ridiculous.” Yoongi huffed once again, just wanting to rest. “How are we supposed to find her.”

“Yeah.” Taehyung sighed, holding pink petals in his hands that were falling down from the branches above. “Anyway, what are these things?”

“I wonder if they taste good.” Jin giggled as he stuffed a few in his mouth. Spitting them out after a few chews, he shook his head. “Nope. Not good.”

Namjoon was sitting down on the ground with his legs crossed. There were lots of people walking by, and he noticed a man fixing his hair in the camera of his phone. Smirking, he closed his eyes and made the man see himself in a new light. Too bad that new light was for him to think too highly of himself. The man then tossed his phone onto the ground and walked away, thinking he was too good to have one.

“Damn, Joon. We just got here.” Hoseok muttered. “Let’s just stick to our task.”

Nodding, Jungkook spoke up. “Yeah, let’s find this girl so we don’t combust.”

Jin side-eyes him. “What do you mean, combust?”

“Well, you were too busy eating to even pay attention to father.” Jk rolled his eyes at his hyung. Leaning up against one of the trees, he smirked. “Father said he’ll kill us if we don’t find the girl.”

Jin bursts out in laughter. “Yeah, right. As if he—wait you’re serious?” His face turned from playful to worried. “I—oh, you are serious.”

“We need a plan.” Taehyung dropped the flower petals off his palm and dusted them off. “I say we split up.”

“It’ll be an uneven number then.” Jimin pointed out, who seemed to be in and out of the conversation. There were plenty of pretty girls walking around, and he was turning himself on. “Anyway, I just want something to fuck. I’ve never fucked a human before..”

Ignoring Jimin, Namjoon agreed with Tae. “Yeah, Tae, I think we should do that too.” He pointed to Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung. “You guys go one way, we’ll go the other.”

Yoongi was surprisingly awake, and agreed also. “Alright. That’s good with me. As long as I don’t gotta do any work.”

As the boys set on to where they needed to be, little did they know that Nari passed them out as she was walking to work.

They kept walking, and Taehyung noticed a brand new car roll up to the curb. Smirking, he left the group to go check it out.

He walked around it with his arms behind his back, looking it over. He must’ve looked off because the owner of the car came out and asked what he needed.

Wrong question.

“What do I need, you ask?” Tae smiled down at the man. “What I need..is this car.” He smirked, his eyes turning into an icy blue. He wanted it, and he’ll get it. The man proceeded to give him the keys and stood stationary, and Taehyung called over Jimin and Jungkook.

“Let’s go boys!” He yelled, and hopped into the drivers seat. He didn’t even know how to drive, but he’ll make himself.

“That was fucking sick, hyung!” Jimin high-fived hun as Jungkook sat in the back with a frown on his face.

Jimin noticed. “What’s wrong, Jk?” He asked him, turning back towards him in the leather seat.

“I wanted that fucking seat.” He hissed at him, sending daggers through his eyes. This made Jimin nervously laugh, and he turned back around.

“Anyway!” Jimin changed the subject. “Where should we look for her? What does she even look like, anyway?”

As Tae drove, he described her. “Well, she has long black hair and a bright soul. We should be able to see who she is the minute our eyes land on her.”

“Ah.” Jimin nodded. “Well, the minute my eyes land on her is the minute I’ll fuck her.”

“Jesus, Jimin. Lay off the sex for once. Some of us need it too.” Jungkook growled from the back seat.

This made Jimin laugh. “Yeah, as if anyone would be attracted to your wrath ass.”

“Don’t piss him off, Jimin. I really want a peaceful ride.” Tae huffed, stepping on the gas. “I say we look around a shopping mall. Girls like shopping here too, right?”

“I like shopping.” Jk muttered under his breath.

“I say we should go to a park or something.” Jimin chimed in.

Taehyung scrunched his nose. “The fuck is a park?”

Letting it pass, they decided to drive to the nearest mall, while the older brothers were currently walking by foot to find her.

“Do you think she’ll like me? I think she’ll love me. I mean, who wouldn’t? Look at me!” Joon laughed, talking himself up as they walked amongst the humans. “I’m getting all the stares!”

“Um, no. I think it’s actually Yoongi. He looks like he’s dead.” Hoseok chimed, holding in his laughter.

Yoongi was sleepwalking. He couldn’t keep his head up, and was nearly walking like a zombie. He was catching all the eyes around him and Namjoon thought it was all for him. Well, he was most certainly attractive. But he wasn’t the reason for the stares.

Pouting, Namjoon rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I’m the reason for some of them at least.”

“Oh my god! Look! It’s a noodle restaurant!” Jin excitedly chanted, jumping up and down. He was a grown man, and looked like he was a kid at a candy store. “Let’s go!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea—hey!” Hoseok got cut off as Jin grabbed ahold of his shirt.

All four of them sat down at a table, their legs too long for the chairs. All seven of the boys were above six feet tall. That was because Satan was nearly seven feet.

“Do you think that the other boys found the girl yet?” Namjoon said as he chomped on the noodles. The noodles that they weren’t going to be able to pay for.

“Nah.” Yoongi said, shaking his head. “But if they did, good for them I guess.”

Jin was already on his fifth bowl. “I don’t really want to be king anyway. I just came here for the food.”

“Jesus fuck.” Hobi grunted. The soup part was too hot for him. “This is fucking spicy. Why is it spicy?”

“Maybe because you got the chili powder.” Jin chuckled, grabbing Hoseok’s bowl. “Here, I’ll eat it.”

Hoseok glared at him with a frown. “I don’t know how you’re so skinny.”

“Alright guys.” Joon clapped. “We should get a move on with finding her.”

When no one responded to him, he sighed, shaking his head. “Maybe I should’ve picked a better group.”

As Joon was thinking this, Taehyung was thinking the same thing.

“Alright, where is Jimin at now?” Tae sighed, putting a hand up to his head as they stood in the middle of the mall. They looked like giants amongst all of the people there, making them stand out even more. Jungkook stood next to Tae, also wondering where Jimin went.

“All I know is that he said something about going to flirt with the cute girls.” Kook stated, shaking his head. “I don’t know which cute girls he was talking about, though.”

“Oh my god. It’s never ending with him. We can’t bring him anywhere.”

It was silent for a moment, until Jungkook spoke up again. “Do you ever get so mad that you just want to kill them?”

Taehyung looked at him, blinking. “I can’t take you anywhere, either.”

While Taehyung was having an existential crisis, Nari was three stores down from him in her cute ice cream shop.

A few cute boys walked in, and ordered some ice cream. As she gathered their order, one of them kept asking for her number. “My number? Like a phone number?” She mumbled, scrunching her eyebrows.

“Yes.” The cute boy nodded, a smile on his face when he thinks he’s getting it.

“Ah, that. Well, I don’t have a phone.” She smiled at him, and continued to scoop his ice cream. The bus’s friends all laughed at this, making the one who asked get upset.

“Listen here you little bitch.” The boy reached over to grab her by the neck, making her confused as to why he freaked out. She just said she didn’t have a phone. As he pulled her against the glass of the ice cream stand, someone’s voice boomed through the shop.

“Hey hey, that’s no way to treat a lady.” The boy said playfully, making the boy who was holding Nari falter. “Well, only when you’re in bed, I guess.”

His hair was a dark blue, almost black. His eyes nearly looked as if they were a pink of some sort, but maybe he was wearing contacts.

After that comment, the blue haired man stood face-to-face with the asshole who held Nari. Letting her go, he turned toward him. “Who the fuck are you?” He said, his two friends standing behind him with crossed arms.

The mysterious man didn’t even look over at Nari. He just glared at the boy. In came two more boys, who immediately walked over to the mysterious guy. One of them had longer hair than the other, but both of them had black hair. All three of them were unusually tall, and looks as if they had no fear. The longer haired guy spoke up. “I’ll beat your ass so hard you won’t be able to walk.”

The three other boys seemed to get a bit scared, knowing they had no chance against these guys. Nari stood there, in awe of their beauty. She never had thoughts of anyone like this. They were all so beautiful, she just wanted to know more. She wanted to know why they were standing up for her.

As the three childish boys ran out of the store, Nari caught eyes with the blue haired boy, who immediately dropped his jaw.

Jimin couldn’t believe his eyes. There she stood, the most beautiful soul of the human race. Her long locks were held back by a scrunchie, and her eyes were lined with black eyeliner. She was so beautiful, he couldn’t help but stare. He wanted her.

Taehyung felt the same way as well. How in the world could a creature like this exist in the world. Is this way his father wanted her? He began to experience dirty thoughts, some of them pertaining to keeping her all to himself. That could be because of who he was—Greed. He wanted her. He wanted her bad.

Jungkook was quietly staring, his eyes open wide. He’s never experienced this feeling before, but to be fair, he’s never seen someone so beautiful in all his years of life. He wished to have something so passionately, and that something was her. He didn’t care that his brothers were also infatuated with her, he wanted her all to himself, too.

Nari didn’t even know what she had done to the boys. She had no idea that she was made just to compel the sins themselves.

What was she supposed to do now? Was she supposed to thank them? She really had no idea. But before she had the opportunity to say anything, one of the boys said something first.

“Well, we finally meet.” Taehyung smirked. “Choi Nari. The Pure Soul.”

“The..the what?”

*********************************************************

prev. // next.

[heresathreebee]

Garrote part 3

[Starz Power Diego Jimenez X Jazmine Mann (Black!OC)]

Word Count: 2,700 words

Warning(s): Rated Mature, language, partying, mentions of sex and drugs. Previous Masterlist Next

AN: I am constantly mere clicks away from releasing everything I have at once but I know if I do I will lose momentum for the plot. 

Edit: I. Forgot. The tags again.

@nicke0115 @1zashreena1 @mental-bycatch

The week that followed was heaven and hell. Diego went back to throwing parties nightly, fucking girls coked out of his mind, and in general trying to forgot all about Healy and his pretty bait, but Tommy Eagan was threatening war over a dead partner unless Alicia met his ridiculous demands. Thanks to Tommy's new right hand man, there was an opportunity to gain instead of lose now. All they had to do was wait and see if Dre could pull through. 

There were two new numbers in Diego's phone. One unsaved that sent cryptic messages about their deal, and the other marked as an emoji rather than a name. Jazmine's texts seemed forced– like she was reaching out on behalf of Healy's instructions. So of course Diego elected to simply ignore them both. They were buzzkills anyways. 

Diego was showing something important on his phone to his sister when Jazmine sent another text. 

Remember when you scared off Haagen? I miss that every time I see him. 

On the other end of the line, Jazmine felt pathetic sending the text. Healy hadn't even asked her to write this time, she was just so… bored. She hadn't been sleeping well, pulling double shifts involuntarily since her boss found out she closed the store when her coworker didn't show up. She carried her stress in her shoulders– the tightness in her neck caused her daily migraines and there was a new pinching sensation between her shoulder blades to accompany the rest of her pain. In the shower, she massaged whatever she could reach and thought of Diego's big hands doing it for her. 

She literally shook herself to clear the thought and pelted the shower curtain with water in the process. Diego Jimenez wasn't some faux bad boy with a secret soft side– he was the leader of a cartel. If he hadn't killed people himself, he definitely had people killed for him. He was beyond dangerous to even fantasize about. 

DING-DING. 

Her phone called out to her from the bathroom counter and she realized it was past time to get out. Her fingers were pruned to the point of over-sensitivity and there was a rapidly closing window to apply the leave-in conditioner to the best of its use. Still, she wiped her hands on the towel to read the text. 

Come out and party. Wear something nice. 

Alicia boxed his ear over the last sentence but he brushed her off. Jazmine declined anyways claiming exhaustion and went to bed. There were people to socialize with already– what was the absence of one little minimum wage laborer going to do?  Apparently she was important enough to occupy a corner of Diego's head. He was still bent about the way she had reacted to his identity. Who the hell did she think she was? As they discovered in the ungodly hour after the party ended, she was also important enough to drag Healy out of whatever hole he hid in. 

"Diego, we need to talk." 

Alicia had gone home– Diego expected she would likely never attend another one of her brother's parties as it wasn't her brand of debauchery– and she'd cleared the place out in her disgust, so his penthouse was empty for once. 

"What's the matter," Diego poured himself yet another drink, "am I not being a good boyfriend?" 

"We don't care what you do when you're not operating," Healy reprimanded. "But we need you to cooperate. Be a presence in Jazmine's fake life. You've been established as a rival for her affections, and you need to become an obstacle standing between the bait and the target. Jazmine walks home from work every single morning by herself. I don't know if you noticed it's been pouring buckets for three days straight." 

Healy almost sounded like he was shaming Diego. It wasn't his fault she was poor. She wasn't his real girlfriend and therefore not his real problem. "Please don't make me regret making this deal, Diego. We will never get an opportunity to dismantle Haagen like this again. Need I remind you that you've got a missing child on your hands?" 

Diego glared fiercely over the rim of his cup. Healy smoothed his hands down the front of his shirt and returned to his neutral position as righteous commander. 

"Schedule more time to spend with Jazmine, especially in public spaces. We have it on good authority that Haagen is going to put a detail out to give him updates on Jazmine in the near future, and he needs to see you in these updates." Healy turned on his heel and reached the elevators, stopping them from closing dramatically and fixing Diego with a stare. "And no more ignoring us." 

Jazmine woke up the next morning to one new notification. 

I'm coming over. 

"Oh shit." The woman threw herself out of bed and looked around. This wasn't fair. Cleaning day was a bi monthly ritual where she took a day off to deep clean the entire apartment, blasting music and stepping around her dog to get things done. Hercules wandered into her bedroom looking chipper as ever. "I guess we better get started then, huh?" 

The fucker showed up on her doorstep not ten minutes after she got out of bed– she wasn't even dressed for the day. Her hands nervously tried to cover the broth stain on her jeans as she cleared a space for him to sit and wait while she finished her morning routine. She worried while brushing her teeth that Diego might be a psycho like her last boyfriend. Psycho enough to kick her overly friendly pet, but no sound of yelps filtered through the paper thin walls and when she finally emerged, the pit-bull was settled with her head on his lap. 

Diego turned his head at the sound of a huge sigh. Jazmine was gazing at him but quickly turned when she realized she'd been caught. She began to flit about the room, picking up lost things and piling them up until she could figure out what items went where. He watched, making absolutely no move to help other than keeping the dog out of the way. Hercules– as the tag on her collar read– laid as much in his lap as he would allow. 

"Buena perro," he muttered, and if she still had a tail, she would have wagged it. Growing bored, Diego rose and stalked over to the fridge. "Do you have anything to eat?" 

The white void in the fridge answered for her, but she still called out, "no, it's empty." 

"I'm ordering pizza." 

"What about Chinese?" 

Diego looked at the lonely, days-old Chinese boxes in the fridge and shivered. "I'm getting pizza." She didn't complain. He returned to the couch to do just that. Distractedly, he admired the curve of her spine as she bent over. She wore jeans again and another band shirt, this time it was a baggy Chicago thing. He licked his lips thinking about taking them off her. 

Healy’s meddling had repercussions– mainly that it would made taking girls home harder, or at least less frequent. Diego still felt great suspicion towards this Jazmine, but it didn’t stop his body from wanting her under him. Or over him, on him, riding him… he tried to blink the images out of his head. 

“What kind of dirt does Healy have on you?,” he found himself asking. “My sister and I have been dying to know.” 

Jazmine shrugged, keeping her back to him. “No dirt.” 

“So you’re just helping out of the goodness of your heart?” Pizza arrived in time for her not to answer, and they returned to their positions for further interrogation. “Anything to get that creep Haagen away from you for good? Or are you an agent as well?” 

“No,” she said. She slipped rubber gloves on to begin maintenance on the tower of dishes piled on the side of the sink. She seemed to live alone– there was no reason to have so many dishes. Maybe he had been wrong in his assessment from earlier? Or maybe she was just a hoarder. “To tell you the truth, I’m about as fond of Healy as I am Haagen. I take that back– Healy’s a step up but not by much.” 

“Because you don’t trust him?” 

“I don’t know…” That mountain of plates and glasses seemed to disappear quicker than he expected and she began to scrub out the sink and the cleared counters, grunting with effort as she did so. “I trust I know the kind of man Haagen is, more so than I do with Healy. Partnerships like the one I have with Healy– they’re subject to change, and not always for the better. He’ll always do what’s in his best interest. What’s good for him is good for me.” 

For Now. The implication that she may harbor the same feelings towards Diego was not lost on him. In fact, he stood up from the couch and approached the windows with their blinds down to peek out at the street. There was nothing quite so conspicuous as a black SUV with a mean mugging thug staring back at him. Even his own protection didn’t roll that sloppily. 

Jazmine objected to the windows being opened but Diego insisted. “Need our relationship on display, right? Haagen’s got to know I’m here.” 

She relented quickly and threw her gloves aside, plopping her butt on the couch to rest a moment. The leftovers in the box were room temperature but she hardly seemed to mind. God, he wanted to run his hand up her shirt just to see if she was wearing a bra. They twitched in his lap and he realized there was no way she missed the hunger in his gaze as he did. 

“Did you bring those beers,” she laughed as she noticed the case on the coffee table for the first time. “Can I have one?” 

The beer seemed to quell the tiny tremor in her fingers. She kicked her feet up on the coffee table permitting Diego to do the same. "What the hell are we even doing? Hanging out? What exactly is this accomplishing?" 

Jazmine gave it some thought as she took a pull from her drink. "Putting on a show. We need Haagen to think I'm in love with you, like you're no good but I'm not ready to let you go for something 'better.'" 

"And Haagen is something," Diego put his fingers up like claws, "better." 

"He certainly needs to think he is." She noticed Hercules whining and let her out the door unaccompanied. "We've got his 'gentleman' ego to work with." 

Diego followed her to the window and grasped her hips from behind. She half turned, gazing up at him with a question in her eyes. He leaned into her space to whisper into her ear. 

"Those eyes Healy thinks Haagen sent to watch you? Well they're watching right now, and they're not being subtle about it." 

She doesn't try to look like he expected her to. Instead, she stepped away from him and pointedly crossed her arms. "You don't look very comfortable if you're still wearing that." 

She nodded her head at his coat. 

"So take it off me." 

That startled her. Jazmine's eyebrows lifted, and her feet shuffled when he gave her nothing but a smirk in return. Finally, she did as he suggested. She did not miss the way his hands seemed to brush lightly over her rib cage. These small, fleeting touches that left her breath audible and her stomach warm. He didn't even give her a chance to put the coat on the hangar when he dragged her back against him. 

"What are you doing?" She didn't mean to sound breathless, turning her head to the side and exposing more of her neck at the behest of his pushy nose and allowing him to trail kisses on her skin. 

"Putting on a show," he said against the shell of her ear. 

He felt her stiffen a little against him. The tent on his pants was preventing a lot of important blood from entering his brain, but he was conscience enough to feel how conflicted she was. Diego slipped his hand up her shirt like he wanted, cupping her bare breast and sucking a mark into her neck. She allowed it, but it felt more like compliance than enjoyment. All at once and against the protest of his body, he let her go. He watched her shoulders relax and her hands find a home beneath her armpits. 

Jazmine nodded in answer to a question left unasked. She did grab his hand and pull him away from the window, backwards into the tiny hall separating the front room from the bedroom and bathroom. She dropped his hand as soon as they were out of sight of the window. 

"I appreciate the enthusiasm," she said. "Just hang out for twenty more minutes and you can leave. I'll text you tomorrow and we can makes plans for another 'show.' You can stay in my room while I clean the bathroom." 

Diego sat heavily on her bed. Just as he was about to get comfortable, someone knocked at the front door. Jazmine brushed invisible dirt from her knees as she got up to see who it was. He followed from a distance. The peep hole was almost out of her reach, but she stood on her toes to see outside. Suddenly, the woman looked back at him with wide eyes. It's Haagen, she mouthed. As soon as her head was turned to the task of confronting him, she missed the part where Diego began to undress. 

"Hey!" She flung the door open and yelped when Hercules barreled through her legs to get inside. "You... found my dog!" 

"Indeed," Haagen said, folding his hands over his heart. "I saw this poor creature wandering and I returned him using the address on its collar. I am astounded to learn that he belongs to you." Nice cover story. The man continued, "since you have the day off, I was wondering–" 

Haagen's wondering was cut off by the appearance of a half naked boyfriend. Diego wound his arm around Jazmine and leaned down so he could engulf her clothed nipple with his hot mouth. She gasped, pushing his head away on instinct and he pressed her into his side like a vice. 

"Come back to bed, baby," he purred, then pretended to take notice of Haagen watching in the doorway. "Oh, you're that guy, right? James, Jeff, Jebediah or whatever." 

"Jeremy," the man hissed through his teeth. "Hello Di-e-go." 

"Right right right." An embarrassed Jazmine buried her face into Diego's nude shoulder, acting unconsciously but playing into her role perfectly. "Kinda crazy how I start hearing about you and then all of a sudden you're showing up on my girl's doorstep, isn't it?" 

Haagen made a move to defend himself but Jazmine was quicker. "He found the dog, honey! Jeremy was just bringing her home, he didn't know I lived here." 

"Right," Haagen cleared this throat. 

Diego's smile bordered on a threatening mania-- there were far too many teeth displayed to suggest any sort of friendliness. "Life is so full of strange coincidences…" 

No one missed the way he squeezed Jazmine harder. It sent a message to be sure. Vague enough for Haagen to infer whatever he deemed necessary to the story in his head. It was quite brilliant actually. 

"Well I ought to," Haagen swallowed, "leave you to it then. I'll see you around the shop, then?" 

"Bye–" she barely managed to say before Diego dragged her into the apartment and slammed the door shut. He kept dragging her all the way back to her bedroom, and all the while she protested being treated like a misbehaving child. It wasn't until he'd slammed the door and collected his shirt from the floor that she realized what exactly had transpired. 

"Oh." She brushed the frizzing curls invading her eyes, "oh that was perfect. Healy was right to pick you." 

Diego rolled his shoulders once his shirt was tucked back into place. "Come over tonight. I'll text you my address and we can capitalize on this. Wear something nice." 

She was about to protest his leaving but realized it wouldn't matter. If Haagen expected a fight from the noises he'd heard, he would probably just assume it had ended quickly if he saw Diego storm out alone. He crafted his own version of events. She let the pieces fall where they lie and made arrangements to meet Diego tonight. 

[theangrypokemaniac]

Ma and Pa James's Second Biggest Fan (we plough a lonely furrow) continues to find Ma Jess's appeal mystifying, since everything about her is negative:

1. Signing up for Team Rocket suggests someone of a morally dubious character to start with, but the truth lies in the clothing, and she's in black!

Black!

It's code for her personality:

• Jessie wears white:

Pure, beautiful, innocent, sweet-natured, not really bad, dealt a severe hand in life but a fighter.

• Cassidy wears black:

EVIL!!! EVIL, EVIL, EEEEEEVUL!!! FOUL SIRENIC TEMPTRESS!!! EVIL HEARTLESS BITCH STEALING JAMES'S NEVER-BEFORE-SEEN WEEPINBELL!!!

Speaking of which:

2. She was Madame Boss's best agent.

You don't get there being kind.

To reach that standing requires hundreds of successful heists, and we aren't talking nicking gold bars. It's living things.

How many Pokémon do you imagine she stole with merciless efficiency?

How many children did she set upon, pinching every animal they had?

How many innocent lives did she ruin by depriving kids of the pets they loved, never to see them again, eaten away with the not-knowing and the false hope?

The glory of her reign ran on the fuel of blood and tears.

What fate do you envision awaited those Pokémon? It's not exchanging one master for another, it's entering slavery.

Jessie and James aren't the epitome of Team Rocket. They are minnows on the outskirts, despised and mocked by most of their fellow members. The actual group isn't particularly famous for prioritizing Pokémon welfare.

The preferable outcome is being handed out to agents to help catch other victims. Otherwise it's transformation into a war machine, forced to fight on and on to the point of exhaustion and death, no doubt tortured and tested on to boot.

What happens if they don't come up to scratch or are pushed for years until too aged and broken to be of any use? Are Team Rocket ready to pension them off to animal sanctuary?

As if. It's euthanasia or on to the streets to waste away, if not fed to the strongest first.

Ma Jess knew this and worse occurred thanks to her, yet paid it no mind, and felt not a single twinge of guilt in that time of service, then met her end trying to draw another Pokémon into imprisonment.

Some might say it was a case of what goes around, comes around. As her behaviour led to God knows how many Pokémon dying alone, leaving their loved ones to wonder and grieve, so in turn did she die alone in the snow, and Jessie had to carry on without her.

I'm not against Ma Jess, I neither feel like or dislike, but I don't understand how so many fans can happily overlook her murky past of inflicting pain, instead elevating her to a semi-divine tragic heroine, yet apparently Ma and Pa's heinous offences of not stealing and treating Pokémon well are beyond forgiveness.

3. It's the Red Ribbon Army! Save yourselves!

Jessie joined Team Rocket to follow in Ma's footsteps. James went with her. Both moved (upwardly in scale, downwardly in morals) from Sunny Town's gang of petty thief kids to a complex Mafia organisation stretching its wriggling tentacles around the world to crush the air from its lungs.

Why? Ma Jess's baleful influence led the two down that path.

Of course Jessie wants to copy Ma, how and where else can she feel close to her?

There's not even a grave to visit!

Rising in the ranks and Giovanni's favour is both to strike it rich and take her place, becoming Ma in essence. That would make her proud, which is all Jessie ever wanted.

What alternative is there? Stay with Chopper and Tyra forever, ekeing an existence pickpocketing and shoplifting, until mortality comes calling sooner than is welcome, or get loaded quickly and retire early?

James theoretically could've gone home at this point, but when it came to which angry redhead he preferred to beat him up, he chose Jessie.

He was henceforth obliged to go whenever she led, even if it meant following the ghost of her mother into the jaws of evil.

They have an excuse, but what was Ma's for getting involved?

However much they boast and revel in their wickedness, the motto proves the couple still believe themselves on a noble quest, despite everything to the contrary, and why?

Jessie isn't about to accept that Ma Jess, whom she's probably idolized as one of few people to love her and a role model of how a woman should be, was nasty or unpleasant. If she was in Team Rocket, it must be good, whatever the outer appearance.

Except Jessie and James are bad at being bad. They are not master criminals. All their plans fail, rendering them poor and starving in consequence. The inner circle of Team Rocket will always be barred to them because they lack the inner darkness it requires.

The joke is they flourish in any other occupation, whether that be Salon Rocquet, reporters, or flogging merchandise and food at the League. If employed elsewhere they'd be better off, but they have to stay because Jessie can't let go, or bear the thought she might be a disappointment to her mother's name. A different career looks unworthy by comparison.

What, so Ma and Pa have got no son because of Ma Jess? They just wanted him to be a gentleman!

If she hadn't set such a terrible example to her daughter she might have an increased quality of life, but then had she done so Ma wouldn't be dead in the first place.

4. Can't pick 'em can she?

What was it that first attracted Ma to Windy Miller? Does she go for the rustic charm, or the promise of a lifetime's supply of bread to feed the abundance of babies planned?

Don't do it, Ma! He's an alky!

Some birds are like that you see. It's the maternal instinct gone haywire. They find a local reprobate and somehow decide he's really a damaged soul crying out for love, the scapegoat of a cruel society.

He's not evil, he's just misunderstood!

This is why you get nutters wanting to marry the Yorkshire Ripper: they put his 'mischief' down to bad women mistreating his gentle heart, but they of course are devoted to his happiness. They can change him.

You don't know him like I do!

In their fantasy, under the influence of a 'proper' woman he'll transform in to a flower-picking hippie, but not too much, they still like him to be dangerously 'manly' (keeps 'em on their toes), then they can feel smugly superior and more truly female than the 'lesser' breed who failed to tame his sexy pashuns.

And if there's one thing Windy has in abundance, it's raw animal magnetism.

Stop it, Ma! You can't help those who don't want helping!

She put up with the boozing, the flour dust and his somewhat limited communication skills, but what really let him down was the company he kept.

Ever after she would insist Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble and Grub led him astray. That's firemen for yer.

Cuthbert? That name's died out.

Sure enough, some point after Ma Jess was stuffed up the spout, old Windy legged it back to Camberwick Green, like the rascal he is, and not a sweet penny piece did she receive in maintenance, the bastard.

At least Ma James got pregnant by a man who stood by her.

She wasn't married to Windy Miller!

Oh, you mean they were living over the brush? I see.

It's all in your head!

Do it my way, and we have Pa Jess. Do it yours, and we're back to a cavernous emptiness. Unless you can supply a picture of the 'real' (pffft) Pa Jess, this is the best available.

Anyway, 'Jessie Miller' just sounds right.

Coincidence? I think not.

5. She went to look for Mew dressed like this.

I could forgive it had she gone in her normal uniform, that's just whimsy, but to have made some effort emphasises that it's not enough!

Some part of her understood a mountain might be a bit parky out, but this was deemed sufficient coverage!

What happened?

She bloody died didn't she?!

6. Ma Boss points the way to doom.

Ma Jess was at least loyal to the mistress she served, but it was a wasted dedication. She squandered her life obeying a heartless virago who could cast aside apparently valued staff without a qualm, whatever thanks she owed them.

The millions Ma Jess accumulated for Madame are probably uncountable, yet she was so worthless that, when dispatched to the mountain, on her own, expected to catch a Legendary Pokémon, by herself, which many doubted even existed, and wasn't likely to come quietly, or put up with orders, but then didn't come back, Madame Boss allowed her only child to sink into poverty and the infamous 'care' of the State.

Everyone knows what goes on there. Entering a home has replaced the workhouse as the place of dread.

Jessie might have been killed or attacked and it didn't remotely concern Madame Boss, unwilling to spare a meagre fraction of her massive fortune to give the girl she made an orphan any comfort or security.

What did she matter? Her mother failed. Why reward that?

In her turn, Jessie became just as obsequious to an undeserving master, who went further than his mama and actively tried to murder her, and still she suffers to please him.

Team Rocket devoured her mother, and now it's swallowed her.

Oh, and Madame Boss got her way upon discovering Mew's fossil, so Ma Jess died for nothing.

7. This.

I'm not surprised Mew wouldn't go with Ma. She probably sensed the vivisection awaiting, and didn't give a toss about the avalanche in revenge.

Mew hasn't got where she is today falling for any old shallow promises from a stranger, thank you.

Suppose the mission had worked, with Mew caught and gift wrapped for Madame's delectation: what then?

Perhaps Mew's power, proving so impressive, would've pushed any cloning scheme aside, leaving Mewtwo unborn and Mew as the mightiest weapon. Or in greed Madame Boss demands more, and in arrogance the scientists promise the earth, the seas and the heavens.

Mew I could see subjected to some non-lethal form of dissection, just to understand how she ticked, that is if they could build the cage to hold her.

As they couldn't, and catching Mew was never a possibility, then Ma Jess's sacrificed herself on a fool's errand, which was obviously one from the outset. If Mew was easy to handle she'd have been captured long before now.

Either Ma dies, Mew's safe, but Madame Boss starts the cloning scheme anyway, or Ma's victorious, Mew is a tool of Team Rocket and the scientists have more sample to experiment upon. Mewtwo is still made, alongside short-lived creations and dozens of unseen freakish abominations preceding.

Now Mewtwo isn't what you call at peace with himself, nor has he received a particularly wholesome experience. One could think Ma indirectly caused that. Her branch of the project may have fizzled to cinders but she still played her role.

What would her legacy have been but to help bring forth the being that wiped out mankind? Where's the future for Jessie when there isn't one?

It's not her fault, but she died in the name of cloning a biological disaster, the creation of synthetic life leading to the destruction of it all.

8. Let's have a gander at Ma in the anime:

• Can afford rent.

• Can afford a tray.

• Can afford crockery.

• Can afford condiments to add flavour to food.

• Can't afford any actual food.

Something's wrong there.

I intended to include affording clothes too, but now I'm not so sure.

I never took Ma to be a brown-all-over kind of woman. At least she gave the fancy stuff to Jessie.

For years I've assumed she wore a brightly coloured jacket, but now I suspect it's a red one heavily patched up, because buying a replacement isn't an option.

Really old clothes are being mended with whatever can be salvaged from even more worn-out clobber.

Best agent Madame Boss has and she's practically living in her own filth.

Team Rocket takes care of its own, eh?

Oh no, let's not get a proper job, one that allows me to provide for my daughter and doesn't ask for my life. Let's stay in this one!

9. Look at Jessie's face!

By her own admission, being tricked into eating snow is the best thing that ever happened to her during an 'otherwise wretched childhood', to the extent she doesn't know it was wrong!

I don't hear Ma and Pa doing that. The only ice James got was an ice-cream sandwich.

What kind of infancy did Ma Jess give the girl for her to be nostalgic about almost dying of malnutrition?

If we say that's a foster mother as in the sub, it means Jessie's fondest memory is after Ma died, which is too brutal for me.

Yeah, thank goodness she's snuffed it.

You think Ma might have taught her not to eat snow! She left her so ill-prepared!

Consequently the sub version makes Ma Jess an awful creature, although I don't see why that Jessie would so desire to mimic a mom she apparently doesn't care about.

10. She's not even bloody here!

I have no picture to signify absence, therefore I must show whom she left behind.

Ma Jess is Pokémon's answer to Bobba Fett: background figure, barely involved, no information, dies early, yet became a fan favourite nevertheless.

If nothing really exists, what is there to like? Why are you contented weaving smoke?

When Rocketshippers put forward the manga as proof, the Anti-Ships used to insist that it 'didn't count' for being set in a 'separate universe'.

If that still goes, and only the contents of the anime apply to the anime, well then it's bye-bye to Ma Jess and Madame Boss, because they aren't real either.

I sometimes think that's true. However traumatic, would Jessie not have acknowledged her mother by now otherwise?

We grasp the characters all had two parents in a nebulous fashion, although not being real people means they don't 'technically' need them, but Ma Jess is the only one who vanished to be granted a face. Why is she then ignored?

She's briefly glimpsed in a passing scene of a single episode of the first series and is never seen or referenced again. The sub doesn't even have that. Where was the use in creating her if only to leave that thread of the tale billowing in the breeze?

We may decide her actions affect Jessie's but we're only imprinting assumptions. She might as well have remained unwritten for all that's made of her.

What we can glean doesn't bode well, irrespective of things left unmentioned.

Her one redeeming deed was dying, thus at least she didn't choose to abandon Jessie. We may presume she'd have stayed with her girl given the chance.

By my reckoning that puts her as Fifth-Best Mother Of Pokémon, behind Ma Brock, Ma James, Dame Ketchum and Ma Boss, in that order.

Then they're those who claim she never died, so she just pissed off like everyone else, rendering her devoid of a single positive quality.

This is the woman you sigh and agonise over for decades.

Ma and Pa are right there, man! Show 'em some love!

[elusive---ivory]

Little Clown pt 3

MERRY CHRISTMAS YOU FILTHY ANIMALS!!! It Christmas Eve, and here's my present to you guys 💕💕💕💕 You all are amazing and spectacular. This is a long one boys so hold on tight.

PAIRING: Arthur Fleck/Joker x Oc

WARNING: Smut (in the first half), Sub!Joker, and choking.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Taglist:

@princessgeekface @gloomyladyy @memory-mortis @mijachula

Sandy woke up to the soft sound of water running. She got up noticing her lack of clothing. Last night, Arthur and Sandy had a lot of 'catching up to do'. She smirked, walking into the bathroom, seeing Arthur already in the shower. Arthur's dyed green hair was dripping down his back.

"Hey, your hair is melting." Sandy joked, as she stepped in the shower with him.

Arthur chuckled, turning around, kissing Sandy's cheek.

"Everyone's looking for you. You know that right?" Sandy spoke softly, as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"I know. I'm famous. More so than that Bruce Wayne kid." Arthur bragged.

Sandy laughed. "Joker has really made a name for himself."

"You know it. I'm the king of Gotham." Arthur pulled Sandy close to him. "And you're my queen."

Sandy smiled, but her smile shifted into worry.

"What's wrong?" Arthur smirked, with brief concern in his eyes.

"It's nothing, dear." Sandy threw her hands around Arthur's neck, pulling him into a his.

Arthur kissed down her jaw to her neck.

"Arth-" Sandy's moan was cut off with a hush.

"Joker." Arthur whispered, nuzzled into her neck. Arthur bit her neck hard, drawing blood.

Sandy pushed Arthur away. "Fuck, Arthur. That hurt." She yelled.

Arthur laughed. "I'm sorry. It wasn't meant to hurt you."

Sandy smirked. "Looks like I gotta hurt you now."

Arthur's interest was peaked. He turned off the shower nozzle.

"I'm gonna hurt you so bad." Sandy drew out the word 'bad'.

"Oh? How are you going to hurt me, Sandy?" Arthur teased.

"You'll see." Sandy leaned over biting Arthur's ear.

Arthur moaned, laughing. "That didn't hurt."

Sandy pulled back, placing her hands on his jugular. She tightly squeezed it.

Arthur gasped. His eyes widened as Sandy smiled sweetly, squeezing harder.

"Sandy. S-sandy." Arthur choked out.

Sandy chuckled. "Oh, baby. Doesn't it feel good."

Arthur nodded. He felt her long nails scratch down his neck, leaving marks.

Sandy took her hands off Arthur's throat. "Lay down." She demanded.

Arthur obeyed, feeling his blood pressure rise. He felt mesmerized by Sandy. He had never seen her so dominant before. It was almost if she made a transformation herself. In this moment, he didn't feel like he was inside Sandy, but inside someone controlling her.

Sandy got on top of him, putting her hands back on his throat.

Arthur grabbed onto her hips as Sandy grinded onto him, rocked back and forth on him. He felt himself be in and out of her without lifting a finger. He felt the pressure rise inside of him.

"Tell me, Joker. Could Harley ever ride you like this? Could she make you her bitch? I didn't think so. You know damn well that I can fuck you better than that ditzy blonde. You're already yearning for me, boy. You just try to cover it up with your tough guy person. I know that's all a facade. Doesn't it feel good, Artie. Doesn't just feel like heaven?"

Sandy smirked, keeping a tight grip on his neck, but leaving it a little loose. Red marks appeared all around Arthur's neck as Sandy dug her nails deeper.

Arthur went wild. He had the biggest grin planted on his face. The feeling was too much. He gasped tiny moans as felt himself release. He tilted his head back, breathing heavily.

Sandy let out an breathy moan, leaving her hands to go limp, and fall onto Arthur's chest.

Arthur looked at Sandy with half-lidded eyes. His hand crept up to her cheek, rubbing it softly.

"I love you, Sand-" Sandy cut Arthur off with her lips.

"Dolly." She whispered.

Arthur smirked. "Dolly." He repeated.

Ruth woke up early. Usually, she would wake up after her mother made her breakfast, but today seemed different. Ruth noticed clothes sprawled all over the living room.

To her notice, she also saw the ashtray filled all the way up with cigarettes. Sandy never smoked that much unless she was really stressed out.

Ruth saw him in the kitchen. His green locks shined in the light of the morning sun, smoking a cigarette. Ruth hid behind the kitchen wall. Another thing she noticed was he was wearing her mother's robe. Ruth looked up at him, cautiously.

Arthur saw Ruth's copper hair again the kitchen hallway. He defused his cigarette and walked towards her.

Ruth froze as her eyes met with his.

"Hey, honey. What are you doing up?" Arthur asked, looking down at the frightened girl.

Ruth stuttered. "I was, uh, just getting some, uh, milk."

Arthur smiled. "Oh. Is that right? Ruth, is it?" He asked, trying to remember his own daughter's name.

Ruth nodded hesitantly.

"Your mother picked a beautiful name." Arthur sighed, disassociating.

Ruth looked at Arthur strangely. "Why are you still here, Mr. Joker?" She asked, still very frightened by him.

Arthur didn't understand why Ruth was so afraid of him. He didn't have his clown makeup on. "What's wrong with me staying here?" Arthur asked, kneeling down to Ruth's level.

"My mommy will be upset." Ruth said, obviously making up an excuse. Truth be told, Ruth didn't trust Joker, then again, she didn't trust really anyone. Ruth was told that people in Gotham were cruel and mean. It was up to her to fix it, and make Gotham a better place. Of course, many people would disagree with her.

Arthur chuckled. "Well, your mother would've already kicked me out if she didn't want me here."

Ruth froze. "Um, well, I don't want you here." She stuttered.

Arthur feigned sadness. "Oh, looks like I'm gonna sleep out on the streets." He mocked, fake crying.

Ruth felt bad. "I'm sorry. You can stay, but my room is off limits."

Arthur smiled again, pulling Ruth into a hug. "Thanks, Ruthie. It means a lot to me."

Sandy stood in the hallway, fully dressed. "Ruth, come over here." She called, from the living room.

Sandy sat Ruth down, gently. "I'm sure you've gotten well acquainted with Joker, here."

Ruth nodded. "Why is he here?" Ruth whispered, hushed.

"It's complicated, my dear. You see, Joker is, well, your father." Sandy uttered those words hesitantly, expecting Ruth's reaction.

Ruth's eyes widened. "This isn't true, is it? Mommy?" A tear fell down Ruth's face.

Sandy's face soften as she wiped the tear of her daughter's face. "It is."

Ruth looked over at Joker, then looked back at her mother. She furrowed her eyebrows for a sec, then all emotion wiped off her face.

"I'll be in my room, Mommy." Ruth spoke, monotonously. She pushed past Sandy, and slammed her bedroom door.

Sandy sighed, frustrated. She felt immense guilt about lying to her daughter. Keeping the charade up for this long wore on Sandy.

Arthur lingered in the doorway, smirking. "She'll learn to like me. I may not have fantastic looks, but at least I have a charming personality." He mocked, flopped onto the couch next to Sandy.

"You have good looks too. You're easy to fall for." Sandy smirked, nuzzling up to Arthur.

"Awww, shucks, Dolly. You're too kind." Arthur smiled.

Sandy smiled. "You got me falling for you even more."

Arthur smirked, kissing Sandy softly on her lips. "And, I've gotten very attached to you. I thought about you a lot. I couldn't keep my mind on anything else in Arkham. The first time you didn't show up to our visits I was worried. It was so lonely in the hospital. I just wanted you in my arms. When I was let out to the common area, I spoke to no one. I isolated myself, until Miss Quinn said I was spending too much time lingering on the past. I would roll my eyes. I didn't care much about what she was saying, but she promised me freedom. I like to think about that morning me and you met. How elegant you looked. You remember, don't you? In that very elevator, you actually talked to me, and looked at me in a way no one had before."

Arthur held Sandy close to him, softly petting her hair. "I never want to be apart from you, again, Sandy."

Sandy's head rested on Arthur's chest, hearing his rapid heartbeat from his ribcage.

"Who was Harley Quinn in Arkham, anyway?" Sandy asked.

Arthur let out a frustrated sigh. "She was psychiatrist that lost her mind in Arkham. I don't remember how, because I didn't really listen to her. I do remember meeting her in the common room."

Arthur scoffed. "She said she couldn't stand to see me in Arkham, seeing as miserable as I was. I told her that I needed someone to watch after you, so she did. Harley told me she wanted to escape this hellish life in Arkham and wanted to run away with me. I don't remember the answer, but it wasn't no. I was upset and heartbroken, because I was convinced that you left me. What changed my mind about Harley was because she threatened to hurt a kid."

Arthur paused for a second, feeling the rage build up in his chest. "Before, I even knew that she was my kid." Arthur trailed off.

A loud scream came from Ruth's bedroom. Sandy and Arthur both got up and headed for the door.

"RUTH!" Sandy yelled, kicking down the door.

The window was broken, along with vines crawling up the window.

Sandy dropped to the ground sobbing.

[glitchcrows]

Through the Heavens' Grand Plan [A GO Fic]

Okay. This fic I'm finally going to publish here? It.... it's been sitting inside a Google Doc for the better part of a month. I've fought with myself over the endless what-if's but now, I suppose it's time to let it be seen, to be read by any who want.

That said, I want to give thanks to a few people who gave me hope and the encouragement in the process: @single-man-tear, you get top billing for providing, nudging the ideas while I was on an exhausting road trip. @softangelofsoho, you beautiful, wonderful PDX Dandy, thank you for your support and dealing with me babbling. For to my @codename-nightmare-pet , you really have lit up my world when it's been so hard at times lately. I love you and am so grateful for you. Lastly and certainly NOT least, thank you to @drawlight .... Your support amidst me reading, devouring your own work really got me thinking that hey, maybe I can do this.

Thank you to each of you and thanks to the ineffable boys and their creators themselves for this.

-----

Through the Heavens' Grand Plan

The gramophone was old, almost a hundred, if not a bit more than that. It stayed hidden from the public view and more in the quiet confines of what would be considered to be the living quarters within the angel's business. Crowley enjoyed switching up the record choices or changed the album to fit his needs. One did not anticipate to hear Mama Cass singing "Don't Stop Me Now," but surprises often found themselves in the bookshop when Crowley wanted to be mischievous. 

Aziraphale tolerated it at best, but Crowley also knew there were records that he wasn't allowed to mess up. One in particular the demon knew fully well he wasn't EVER to temper with at any given time. Beethoven's 9th Symphony, 1947, Bruno Walter as the conductor. Beethoven was someone that Aziraphale had admired for ever so long, had possibly tried to even be a guardian angel towards.

Aziraphale pulled the record from its sleeve once afternoon when taking his extended lunch break and started the gramophone, moving the record to the fourth movement as he took a seat next to the device, sandwich in hand, tea in tow.

The strings came to life, the familiar musical strains plucking at his own heartstrings, the faint hiss of the old record there. Aziraphale began to eat his lunch, foot tapping in time with the masterpiece....

---

"Was die Mode streng geteilt;

Alle Menschen werden Brüder!"

(What convention strictly divided;

All people become brothers!)

-Winter 1822-

"Please, Crowley. This isn't me asking you to make Goethe popular. This is me, your...." A hesitation to say 'friend' there, considering their discussions with one another could continue to have raised eyebrows from both Heaven and Hell. Crowley gave an unamused look towards the hesitancy. "Say it, angel. Friends, unless you feel acquaintances wouldn't go amiss. My side wants him, you realise. He's the perfect one for the pits. He and Wolfgang would get along swimmingly." Aziraphale felt disgust by the insinuation, the idea of it all. Ludwig von Beethoven, in Hell. 

A small whimper.

"Please, Crowley. I.... I...." the angel stammered, Crowley's lips curling into a smirk. "Say it, angel. Say it." Aziraphale felt himself hesitating more but knew how much this was to him. Hell didn't deserve him, God knew that. "I'm begging you. Please. Please let me have him. You can have Brahms, Schubert, Schumann. Let me have Beethoven. Please..."

Crowley's smirk never left his face.

Anything for his angel.

---

"und der Cherub steht vor Gott..."

(And the cherub stands before God.)

---

-Spring 1823-

"Let me help him, your Majesty. Let me work with him. One last piece. One magnum opus. Let me be his guiding force. If....if you'll let me. I won't let you down."

The archangels watched Aziraphale standing in the heavenly courts. Uriel and Gabriel eyed him suspiciously about the idea of interference while Michael sat there, looking as though the idea wasn't completely a stupid waste. God contemplated long enough before giving a blessing, warning Aziraphale to keep a low profile, to do right.

"Thank you, Lord. I promise I won't let you down."

---

Ludwig was difficult, he soon learned. Old age and bitterness did not make for good work between the pair when he was annoyed, angry. That said, the pair were able to bond over fond thoughts of delicious schnitzel, apfelstrudel, sacher torte, often indulging in the sweets when they had made some progress. 

People had wondered who the incomer was, often having Ludwig shout that it wasn't any of their damn business, to be frank.

Yes, he was aging and dying, but Aziraphale refused to let him go without finishing. He recalled how well that had gone for the other side and the Requiem Mass for Mozart. 

"Herr Fell?" Beethoven had said between bites of their strudel purchase on a particularly long day. "Why me? Why pick me?" Aziraphale's fork hesitated to place another piece into his mouth. Oh, there were so many reasons, the angel knew, but he supposed the composer deserved a chance to be remembered for all time wasn't all a bad idea either. Grabbing a piece and an ink quill, he scribbled his response:

"Everyone deserves a second chance. Including you, Herr Beethoven."

Beethoven's eyes misted with wet tears.

---

"Ahnest du den Schöpfer, Welt?"

(Do you sense the creator, world?)

-May 1824-

Aziraphale sat where Ludwig wouldn't see him, opting to be practically invisible until he felt a hand to his shoulder. A small yelp was followed by a pointed look when it became apparent the tapper was Crowley. "Easy, angel. Who'd you think I was? The guillotine squad?" Aziraphale squinted. "Clever remark, honestly. Did you think that up on the spot?" came his snippy reply as Crowley took a seat next to him. "Testy, testy! Take it easy...." Aziraphale seemed unconvinced. "Really now, angel. I'm here to see how good this magnum opus is. Word is that it's going to blow minds."

Aziraphale gave a sigh.

"Uh... that it's going to be his crowning achievement," Crowley corrected. "Yes... I do believe you're right," he whispered as the lights dimmed and the symphony began. 

An angel and demon both found tears that night by the end of it all.

---

"Such' ihn über'm Sternenzelt!

Über Sternen muß er wohnen."

(Seek him above the starry canopy!

Above stars must He dwell.)

"Aziraphale? ..... Aziraphale!"

He was being shaken and soon was snapping back to the present by Crowley. The record scratched at the edge, giving indication that the number was over. "You've been crying. Is everything all right, angel?" he asked in genuine concern for his angel, friend. Az moved a hand and felt the wetness to his eyes. 

"Aziraphale? What in the bonny, bloody blue blazes- -" Crowley began to growl before taking note of what the record was. The demon blinked, realising that perhaps, in this moment, tenderness was warranted. "Oh, Aziraphale." The angel gently began nodding his head. "I....couldn't help myself. Would....would you like to hear it? With me?" 

Crowley gave a wistful smile, sitting on the empty space on the loveseat as Aziraphale started the section all over again, settling in the hold of his demon.

And again, many, many years later, an angel and his demon bonded over their love for Beethoven.

[caranfindel]

Recap/review 14.19: “Jack in the Box”

THEN: Eh, you know all this. Oh, wait, here's something interesting - a reminder that Naomi was overcome by the Empty slime. Which reminds me of my theory that Naomi and/or Duma might actually be the Empty Entity. Hmmm. Oh, and also, all the Jack stuff.

NOW: There's a bunch of hunters in the bunker, drining beer and looking at pictures of Mary and her stuff on the map table. Including the picture Sam burned. Well, I'm glad it wasn't the only copy. And whatever these rings and calipers are that are always on the map table, apparently they're permanent, because they weren't removed for this little memorial display. Also, John's journal is part of the display, and I know they gave it to Mary to read, but still, it's John's. This bothers me.

So, are these surviving AU hunters? If not, that means the Winchesters have opened the bunker up to every hunter they know (and revealed its location to everyone they know), which is... not what I would have done. TFW makes an entrance (why were they not in there with their guests) and Dean thanks them for coming and makes a little speech but I'm finding it real hard to concentrate on Dean right now because LOOK AT SAM'S SHIRT. LOOK AT IT. It's CLOSE-FITTING and it's NOT PLAID and whatever awful things this episode does (and my completely unspoiled prediction is that IT WILL DO AWFUL THINGS), we at least got this.

I strongly suspect this is actually Jared's shirt.

Dean informs the gathered that they missed the pyre, sorry. And he mentions that some of them fought Michael with her in the other world so they ARE AU hunters! Or at least some of them! Well, that's good to know. Sam doesn't have to feel personally responsible for killing everyone who came over, just a handful. Including the only one who had a name, and probably that guy who called him Chief (sob), but some of them remain. Anyway. Dean gives his eulogy (and Sam's not the only worth a second look in this scene, because Dean looks pretty amazing as well) and they drink beer and then an AXE FLIES IN OUT OF NOWHERE, SLOWLY AND AWKWARDLY SPIRALING INTO A HUNTER'S HEAD. People seem surprised, but it's the mild kind of surprise you'd get if he threw his beer at somebody, not if an axe suddenly appeared embedded in his head. The thrower of the axe walks in - it's New Bobby. WELL.

Title card! Bobby informs me that it was a hatchet, not an axe, and he wants it back. (Sidebar: It literally never occurred to me to think about the difference between a hatchet and an axe until earlier this week when I was listening to a murder podcast that specified someone was killed with one, not the other.) He also tell us that the "hunter" was actually a wraith "from a nest your mom and I busted up" and SEE, GUYS? This is why you don't invite people to the bunker. Now a bunch of wraiths probably know where it is. And we know the warding is a joke. Cas thinks Mary would have appreciated a monster at her memorial. I don't think Cas knows Mary very well but whatever.

Bobby asks Sam how he and "the other one" are doing, and we watch Dean pack up Mary's belongings (including John's journal? that's going away?) and Sam says he "seems to be doing okay" which is, of course, how they operate. No one asks how Bobby's doing, even though he had a relationship with Mary too (and over the course of her life probably spent as much time with her as Sam did, when you come right down to it), but Bobby says he's not into public displays of grief anyway, and Dean is probably the same (which is true, except for when it's very very not true).

Sam suggests they drink the scotch Ketch left (and I wonder if this means Ketch came for the memorial, and left some scotch, or if he's referring to a bottle from a previous season that somehow remained through all those events that really would have called for some serious scotch-drinking) and talk about Mom. Dean points out that they have been talking about Mom and stalks out and leaves Sam sad.

Sam and Bobby and Cas settle for beer instead, and Dean walks in just as Bobby asks "what exactly happened to her, cause I'm hearing, the kid." Oh, that's interesting that they wouldn't have given him the whole story. Or maybe it's not. Maybe it makes sense that they'd keep things vague, tell everyone she "died on a hunt." Dean needs a drink, but not in the bunker. Sam tells him they need to talk about Jack, and he says "we will" and quickly makes his escape. Bobby and Cas have this funny exchange.

I liked the kid. We fought together. But there's only way this ends.

Bobby's right. We have to find Jack and help him.

What?

Hee! Cas feels Jack might not realize what he did was wrong, and Bobby astutely points out that if he didn't realize it was wrong, that's kind of a big problem, because if Kelly's influence has been burned away, that means Lucifer is all that's left. Bobby means to hunt him down. "An unstoppable monster who don't know right from wrong gets put down." Um, Bobby, let's consider the unstoppable part of that declaration. (Also, should someone point out to Bobby that Jack accidentally killed someone even back when he did have a soul? Probably not.)

Cut to Jack, who is still? again? at an abandoned warehouse or factory or something. He's remembering what he did, and wishing his mother was there to tell him what to do. Oh, she's not here, but Hallucidad is. He tells Jack that the Winchesters don't care about him, he was just a pet and a weapon, and again, it hurts knowing that this is Jack's subconscious saying these things. Jack thinks he can explain and apologize, and if that's so, Jack, then why didn't you do that when they caught you raising Mary's not-corpse? No, says Hallucifer, they hate you.

Cut to Dean, sitting outside somewhere in the dark, crying.

This is not okay. I mean, it is, but it's not.

Heaven. (yawn.) Cas again tells Duma that he wants to see Naomi, and again she denies him. It turns out Naomi is in "a very small cell" because Heaven was invaded under her watch. I didn't think they had enough spare angels around to lock one up just because they don't think she's a good leader. She might be a great follower. (Yeah, probably not.) Cas tells her he needs help looking for Jack, who has burned through his soul and is no longer being protected by the Winchesters. Hmmm, she says, this is very useful information to have. Internally. Out loud, she tells Cas she'll see what she can do, which he of course takes as an offer to help. Oh, Cas.

Bunker. Sam's working at his computer when Dean comes back. Sam's wearing a different shirt. I don't know if that means it's the next day, or just that he changed out of his nice funeral shirt. He asks Dean how he's doing, but Dean ignores that and asks what Sam's doing.

Trying to find Jack. We've gotta find him before Bobby and his crew, because if they find him first -

He's gonna kill them all.

... I don't know.

Oh, Sam, you DO know. You are obviously concerned about Bobby et al killing Jack, not the other way around. And it breaks my heart. Sam also wants to talk about Mary and the fact that they don't have to rely on faith to know Mary's in Heaven, because they personally know Heaven and angels are real. Dicks, but real. He says Mary's in a great place, with John, because again we're forgetting or denying what we know about Heaven. Dean, the eternal ray of sunshine, points out that there wasn't enough of Mary left to bring back to life even if they wanted to.

Back to Jack, who has a surprise visitor. It's Duma! Oh, cool, she's helping Cas find him, just like she said she would! Ha ha ha nope. (Sidebar: How did Duma find him, and why doesn't Cas have the same ability? Discuss.) He remembers her from his trip to Heaven that one time he died. She tells him Mary's death wasn't his fault, and he deserves redemption after his mistake, because he has "a glorious destiny." She tells him Heaven has fallen apart since God left, and no one gives them the respect they deserve, but Jack, YOU can save Heaven and make the world better and wouldn't that make Sam and Dean happy? Their first stop on the Make The World Better Tour is to turn a famous God denier into a pillar of salt. Oh, irony. (Also, he's safe from ghosts now, so. Bonus?)

Bunker. Cas is telling the Winchesters that Heaven promised to "make every effort" to find Jack. Which 1) isn't exactly what we saw happening, unless you're naive enough to think "I'll see what I can do" means "I'll make every effort", and b) even if that is what Duma said, as Dean points out, "Oh, Heaven promised? Great, well we should take that to the bank." But Cas thinks Heaven has as much reason to want to find Jack as they do. Which is true. But doesn't mean they're going to turn him over to you, Cassie.

Coincidentally, Sam has just read about Professor Pillar of Salt. "Why does that sound familiar?" Dean asks. You know, I don't know the Bible very well. If a particular event didn't show up in "Jesus Christ Superstar" or "The Ten Commandments," I'm not likely to be familiar with it. And yet I know about Lot's wife turning into a pillar of salt. And I've never been to Heaven or met an angel. So.

Cas explains the story and says no ordinary angel could turn a human into salt. Sam reads another story about a dishonest televangelist (yeah, I know, that's redundant) who had a crevice open in the ground under her and swallow her up, and again Dean's not familiar with the story, but this time I'm not either. But Cas knows it's from the book of Numbers. Allegedly, only Jack or Chuck himself could perform these acts.

Heaven. Duma tells Jack he's doing excellent work, and he can help bring Heaven back to its previous glory.

Sam and Dean will like that?

Words can't begin to express how Sam and Dean will feel.

Hee!

So let's talk about what's going on here. I appreciate that they're framing this as Jack trying to get back into Sam and Dean's good graces. In fact, I'm a little hopeful at this point. If Jack-who-is-being-used-by-Heaven is the Big Bad, doesn't that mean stopping the Big Bad could just mean they rescue him from Duma's manipulation? Maybe? (Yeah, I know. But a girl can dream.)

Anyway. Duma's next task for Jack is to create more angels. She tells him he can't make them out of thin air, but if a human is "predisposed" to it, he might be able to forge them into an angel. Oooooh, this opens up some chilling possibilities about who could be turned into an angel. But it turns out he's not going after anybody named Winchester. He's just sitting on the throne "where your grandfather received prayers" (and where your father sat) and listening to prayers. (Sidebar: Why hasn't Sam tried to communicate with Jack by praying to him? Discuss.)

For whatever reason, he hones in on one particular group of worshippers who are about to discuss the book of Samuel (hee!) with Pastor Ames. Jack zaps into the room, asks if they meant it when they said they wanted to go to Heaven, and shows them his wings. Sold! Pastor Ames missing that demonstration, so when he comes in and calls Jack a liar, Jack hits him with another Biblical curse: "he was eaten by worms and breathed his last." Pastor Ames falls to the ground with worms popping out of him everywhere, and Jack and his future angels disappear.

Hospital. Guys, look at the suits! Have they ever worn such narrow pants? What is going on here? Someone new in the wardrobe department?

Mama like.

Agents Kilmister, Clark, and Taylor (hee) are visiting bandaged-up Pastor Ames, who identifies a photo of Jack. They leave, and Cas recites the relevant verse and Sam says, surprised, "so you think this is another Bible thing?" AS IF THAT WASN'T WHY THEY'RE HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE, and as they leave, we see that Pastor Ames is not over his worm infestation after all.

Back at the bunker, Dean tells Sam that he didn't want it to come to this, but they have no choice. Come to what? What's behind the door in room 5B? It's the thing we all knew was coming - the box! (And if you didn't see it coming, the title of this episode clearly gave it away, which is why I consider titles of unaired episodes to be spoilers.) Sam, who is clearly not behind this plan in any way shape or form, points out that they don't have the ability to force Jack into the box, and he won't go in there of his own free will.

But he might. He might if he only has to stay in there long enough for us to finish the spell to fix his soul.

Spell? What spell? There is no spell.

*We* know that.

Oh, no, this is not good, and Sam already hates it.

... So, you want to lie to him.

No, I mean, I *want* Zeppelin to get back together. But what I *need*, what *we* need, is to stop Jack. Big difference. But here's the deal; we both gotta sign off on it. This might be our only shot, and if he even catches a whiff that this is a scam, he's off into the wind.

Exactly. Now, how do you think he's not gonna know something's up?

Because you're gonna be so damn sincere -

Me? Why me?

Because you've always been in his corner. You're his go-to guy. Sam, if you reach out, he'll come. If I do it, after what happened to Mom, I could lose him. I *will* lose him.

Oh no, no, no, Sam is SO not on board with this plan. Because the worst thing that could happen is that it doesn't work, and the second worst thing is that it does work. Dean is so calmly insistent, and Sam is so unhappy, and his FACE when Dean tells him HE will be sincere is just killing me, and no matter what I think about this episode or or this entire story arc, I love what the guys are doing with this scene.

Maybe it's just me, but I'm finding a silver lining here.

Sam sits down at the library table and begins praying to Jack, which doesn't answer my question of why they haven't already tried communicating with him that way. In fact, it makes me ask it harder. He tells him that they're family, and bad things happen in families but they want to get through it, they want to be like they were before. Jack hears Sam's prayer as he assembles his future angels. Meanwhile, Cas has barged his way into Heaven to rescue Jack, having figured out that Heaven has no mercy and angels do bad things, and Cas? How is this POSSIBLY news to you? Duma threatens to end Mary and John's happy little afterlife together (Is this confirmation that they really are sharing a Heaven, even though his name isn't on the door? Maybe. Do I accept it? Not necessarily) so Cas stabs her. Well. We're down to, what, ten angels now? He calls for Jack, but Jack's already gone, having just appeared in the bunker.

Jack tells Sam and Dean he's been working with Heaven, and "if it helps, I regret it... the accident."

Again, the guys do a beautiful job with this scene. Even if it's an awful, awful scene, they're acting the hell out of it. Sam is as anxious as he was when he was trapped in a cell with Jack the day he was born, the way his hands twitch when he gets up from the table and circles behind Dean, and then carefully places himself between Dean and Jack, and how he physically reacts when Jack steps closer, and they're both keeping their distance and moving so carefully, and then there's the way Dean is practically unblinking and is very obviously working SO HARD not to spontaneously combust, staying practically motionless and keeping his voice even, although anyone could tell he's absolutely BOILING under the surface from the look on his face and his tone of voice every time he says the accident. All of this is amazing.

But yeah, it is also an awful scene. Because Jack isn't guilty or apologetic at all. He's actually kind of smug about working with Heaven and making angels, and very condescending about regretting "the accident," and I just don't think he would be there. I think he would tell them how sorry he was, and that he tried to fix it, and basically everything he said to Hallucifer. He wouldn't say "I knew you'd understand" when they tell him they forgive him. His blind self-assurance would make sense if it came at the end of a 2- or 3-episode arc, where Duma had spent more than a day telling him how awesome he was. So while I love Sam and Dean in this scene, love them to pieces, Jack is just... ugh. Beyond OOC. Moving on. Dean tells Jack they're working on a way to fix his soul, and they want to keep him safe (from having another ACCIDENT) in the meanwhile. Sam oh-so-tentatively puts a hand on Jack's shoulder and dear GOD he is so afraid and I LOVE IT.

Again, quite a silver lining to this dark little raincloud.

They take him to the room with the magic box, which Dean claims is "actually pretty comfortable." Dean stays still and Sam fidgets and Jack says "okay" and climbs into the box. "How long before I can come out?" he asks. Sam is more and more fidgety as he says "not too long," and Dean is like stretched rubber band about to snap as he holds himself back from slamming the lid down. "Jack, we got this," Sam lies. "Okay," Jack says again, and he lies down and they didn't even put a pillow in the damn box, why does he think this is okay, why does he think they're working in his best interest if they didn't even give him a damn pillow? Dean shuts the lid and rushes to close the locks and Sam hates this, hates it so much.

Shhh. Don't even listen. Just turn the sound down and enjoy the pretty, pretty angst.

Alone in the box, Jack calls to the Winchesters, but they're already shutting the door to room 5B. They move to the kitchen to finish off Ketch's scotch and talk about the future.

So what do we do now? Just go on, with Jack locked up in there forever?

We have to.

I don't know if I can do that.

Dean ignores Sam's shaky voice and decides to talk about the scotch and sure, we all recognize this is Dean's way of coping. Pretend it's not happening, pretend it doesn't bother him. Because I have to think that, no matter how much he wants revenge against Jack, he understands that being locked in that box forever is still a horrible fate. (A fate Dean was willing to accept, but still.) Sam, meanwhile, needs to talk, just like he needed to talk about Mary.

You know, I never thought it would end like this, with Jack.

Sammy, we knew from the beginning it was a long shot with him.

Yeah. Yeah. But, long shots are kind of our thing.

So let's talk about Sam's guilt. His beautiful, beautiful guilt. Not only over tricking someone he loves into being locked up in a box forever, but for bringing Jack into their lives in the first place. And yet. Jack has always been unstoppable, hasn't he? So if Sam hadn't opened his humongous heart and taken him in, he would have been out there alone. No one teaching him how to use and control his powers, no one keeping him away from Lucifer. He would have been an unstoppable enemy instead of an unpredictable ally. Sam did the right thing, even though it ended bad. Because it was always going to end bad.

Have I mentioned that I could watch an entire episode that was just Dean drinking?

Back in room 5B, Jack's starting to panic, and still calling for Sam and Dean. They don't show up, but Hallucifer does (oh god, I want to see Sam find out he basically locked Jack in that box with Lucifer) and informs Jack he's been played.

In the kitchen, Cas arrives with the news that Duma has been manipulating Jack, and they really need to find him. The guys are all, oh, whoops, forgot to call you, he's here, locked in the box.

Jack gets glowy eyes and tries to break out of the box, but nothing happens.

Cas is horrified that the guys still plan to keep Jack in the box, even knowing his latest acts were due to being manipulated. Sam says "That's the problem. If he's that easily manipulated, he's too dangerous to be out of the box." Oh, no he doesn't. Instead, Dean says "He agreed to it." Yes, in much the same way Sam agreed to be Gadreel's vessel. You keep telling yourself that, Dean. In fact, Dean is trying to claim that deep down, Jack knows it's best. Oh, no, no you don't. Cas points out that Dean manipulated Jack as much as Duma did.

(Sidebar: I'm convinced that Sam would be able to forgive Jack. Because of his endless capacity for forgiveness, and because he sees himself as being in Jack's shoes at a different point in his life. Dean, on the other hand, would not. Because Dean is a normal human being when it comes to forgiveness, and because Dean puts loyalty to family above everything else.)

Box. Jack tries harder. Lucifer laughs. The box glows.

Kitchen. The arguing is interrupted by an earth-shattering kaboom. Things fall off shelves. The red emergency lights and klaxon come on. TFW leaps up and runs to room 5B. The room is a smoke-filled wreck and a figure with glowing gold eyes is walking out of the red-tinged smoke. "Jack," Sam gasps.

Duh duh duuuuuhhhh! Next week, Cas makes Dean write I knew a nephilim was more powerful than its angel parent but I assumed the box would be stronger than Jack anyway 100 times on the blackboard.

Okay, the bad happened, as we all figured it would. But let's talk about the good. Jack's not locked in the box forever. That's a relief - it would have been a very unsatisfactory conclusion. And the guys looked extraordinary. And there was so much emotion, both the tightly-controlled type, and the worn-on-his-sleeve type, and I love them both. Honestly, considering what happened in this one, and who wrote it, it was a lot better than I expected. A lot better than it could have been. (Will I go read your reactions now and see that every single one of you disagrees with me? Quite possibly.)

Next week is the next-to-last "Carry On Wayward Son."

Please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!