#my glorious blue-eyed king is alive

[s0meb0dy-0nce-t0ld-me]

I mourn gojo every day

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

i was going to ask if the gojo fans got you but you already seem like you are one of them (understandable) (me too)

i’ve been gojoed🤕

[chuuyasheaven]

SUMMARY. It’s Chuuya’s Birthday today, and sadly he has to work till evening! He feels bad— for some reason— because he can’t spend the day with you. . But when he got home saw the food you made and a gift just waiting for him in your bedroom. .

TAGS. fem! Reader / Chuuya Nakahara, THIS A SMALL DRABBLE FOR THE FIC COMING, smut (p in v, praise, etc. idk), this is actually LAZILY written so yeah, idk anymore I’m just burnt out by school 😭, etc.

NOTES. Yes, I’m unfortunately still alive!!! Let me tell you buddy, writers block + finals anxiety/stress + depression is something you do NOT wanna experience at the same time. But yeah sorry for the late post I did not forget my blue eyed glorious beautiful most perfect man to walk this earth ginger sweet king’s birthday 🙏

Just imagine the guilt Chuuya felt for not spending the day with you. . Why? It’s his birthday today and you had a day planned for it but no, work had to be done. He did not expect to come home to his favorite meal next to a glass of wine on the table, but he’s still grateful of course! The meal wasn’t the only surprise though!!

Chuuya was laying on his back while you were on top of him, in the most beautiful lingerie he has ever seen, undressing him slowly. He felt a rush of adrenaline through his body, was this really happening? Well, yes, it was! It’s his birthday, of course he deserves only the best. A lot of thoughts were rushing through his head before Chuuya felt your breath on his neck. He had not noticed you bending down, but he did notice your kisses trailing from his neck to his chest. “Fuck!”, he gasped as you started to lick and suck on his nipple, where he was pretty sensitive.

“Feels good, Chu?”, you asked with a seductive undertone before switching nipples. Your hand ran up and down his stomach, making him shudder time to time. Done with his upper body, you moved to his lower body, unbuckling his belt and opening his pants with a smile. “Jus’ relax, okay?”, you cooed to him, continuing to free his lower parts from remaining clothes. “I’m tryin’ to, sweetheart. It’s hard when you’re being so. .”, Chuuya stopped mid sentence when you took his cock into your hand. “So what, Chu?”, he looked away from your gaze flustered. “C’mon, tell me. And look at me when you do.”, you commanded him nicely while you were already stroking his tip with your thumb, slow and gentle.

“. . When you’re being so. . perfect.”

23.53h/11.53pm, 30th April rn, HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHUUYA THE FIC IS BEING WORKED ON (fr tho)

[antithesixm]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GOJO

happy birthday to the most the beautiful, amazing, gorgeous, perfect, loveable, adorable, prettiest man ever, my glorious blue eyed king. he has changed my life so so so much and honestly, i’m not even joking when i talk about how much i love him. it’s unhealthy at this point but it also somehow feels so so so worth it because it’s him. i wouldn’t dare say this openly under any other circumstance in fear of being seen as actually crazy but this is a long ass paragraph that i’m like 99.9% sure nobody will read so.. i honestly think he’s my true love, i don’t think i can love anyone as much as i love him like, i have so much love for him that sometimes my heart can’t take it, and i feel overwhelmed with the realisation that i’ll never love a real person as much as i love him; it’s a terrifying realisation but oddly satisfying at the same time, because now i know i’m capable of this emotion. at first, it was just a silly little joke because i thought he was hot but now, i fear that i may not be able to love another person like how i love him. happy 34th birthday, my love, my lifeline, my world, my sea, my moon, my stars, my sun, my sky, my pulse, my blood. you are paradise, heaven, the ocean, the starry night sky, and everything beautiful. i dedicate my everything to you. i truly believe that i was born on this earth for the sole purpose of loving you. you are what keeps me alive, you are the air that i breathe, the water that i drink, the food that i eat. my heart beats for you and only you, my light. i love you, i love you, i love you. i love you so much that it’s unfathomable. if you killed me and sent me straight to hell, i’d happily be a foolish sinner, happily singing you praises as i burn for all eternity. once again, happy birthday. i love you, i miss you, i need you. please come home or my heart won’t be able to take it anymore :,)

[tonycries]

Daddy tony, is it weird to grieve over gojo forever☹️😔 hes literally my man, my husband, my glorious blue eyed king

It is understandable, in fact, and perhaps even inevitable 😔 CHAT IS IT COPE TO STILL BELIEVE THAT GOJO IS ALIVE?? STILL???

[onlyonteamcapforbucky]

Alright yall now that I've read the last chapter I've taken my time to process it I'm subjecting you all to my final words on my glorious blue eyed king

This was a character whose birth changed the world. When he was a baby had a multimillion dollar bounty on his head, grew up in harsh conditions, constantly training, wasn't allowed to have his parents around, who are still alive and never got to be with. Grew up constantly having to train, would run away from home just so that he could do normal things. Forced the clan to let him go to jujutsu tech because he was sick of their shit. Made one friend and one friend only, who turned around betrayed and abandoned him, left him behind to carry the burden of being the strongest alone, would push himself to the brink every single day. All for the world who didn't know him, and for the people who did know him only saw him as a tool. Took in two kids to raise. one of which got sick, possessed, and died and never got to acknowledge any of it himself because, it all happened before he was released from the prison realm. Then the other kid only ever saw him as a benefactor, despite the fact that he raised him since the age of 6. Everyone else around him, couldn't stand him, did not care about him, only saw him as the strongest, as a weapon and he knew that. He truly had no one, he was lonely, lost his humanity, even questioning himself who he was. And the only one who truly did care died, he had to kill him. He was tired, he was ready to let go, he was done being Gojo the strongest. Then along came the main villain, who he had the time of his life fighting with, and at the very end of it all, it's the villain alone who fully acknowledged Satoru Gojo as a person. Respected him and fulfilled his final wish of not being forgotten. Letting him die with a smile. Satoru was a beautifully written character who, in the words of Kaneki "his story was truly a tragedy". In my final stages of grief and with this new found acceptance, I hope Satoru is finally at peace with himself, and the one who he cares for the most. To follow the words of Sukuna, 'You did well Satoru Gojo. I won't forget you for as long as I live.'

[walette]

hey everyone,

so i have a few ideas lurking around in my head about a ff with gojo. i'd really love to contribute to the fandom, specially to our glorious blue-eyed king. the thing is, is the fandom still alive or willing to read a fanfic? i plan for it to be a m/f, with an oc i have. would that be something anyone would be interested in?

i have the whole story planned out, just trying to figure out what would you prefer:

[imraespace]

omg hi pookei im like Alive. and like YOURE ALIVE TOO OMG IHIHIHIHI I LOVE THE NEW THEME BTW I LOWK GOT JUMPSCARED THIS BC I WAS TWEAKING ON WHETHER OR NOT IT WAS U BUT ANYWAS HOW AREYOU mueheuheh i missed you

So. I did fail my history test. WELL IT WAS LIKE BORDERLINE FAIL I GOT …. 33/50 on the multiple choice part and the written part id assume i did horrible as well ……… BUT some ppl did worse than me so ITS OKAY I THINK MY PARENTS DONT CARE THEY SAID JUSt do better on the next one

LIKE OKAY STORYTIME BUT ITS NOT REALLY A STORY it was like the night before the test and i was studying and i realized holy flip how am i gonna memorize all of this and i already studied like yesterday and the day before but i was TWEAKING and i was like ok lets go on tiktok and i remembered oh i havent visited this one account recently let me go check. Tell me why they posted that their sibling died. LIKE I HAVENT ACTUALLY INTERACTED W THEM LIKE EVER BUT IM JUST LIKE WHAT. BC IT WAS SO SUDDEN YKWIM and i got sad over it and i was like on the verge of tears but then my dad came into my room and he gave me water and i didnt wanna look at him or id start sobbing but then he started staring at me so then i acc sobbed my eyes out and i blamed it on my history test and he started teaching me about whatever i had to study

after my history test i was lowk grieving the death of who it was but i was so confused on why i was affected BC I LITERALLY DONT KNOW THEM THEY DONT KNOW ME AND I LEGIT NEVER INTERACTED W THEM EITHER SO I WAS LIKE HUH but i feel a little better now i hope that the person who posted about it is okay tho ☹️

umumumumu Nothing has been happening other thna me rotting on my phone and avoiding history and some of my other subjects hw……… will be crying bc i actually have to lock in today

OH YESTERDAY I WENT TO THE MALL WITH MY PARENTS TO BUY JACKETS WHY THE HELL WAS EVERYTHING 250+??? LIKE OK I GET IT JACKETS ARE PROBABLY HARD TO MAKE OR WHATEVER AND THE SUPPLIES FOR IT YADADDADA BUT LIKE I SWEAR JACKETS WERE 50 DOLLARS BEFORE. i told momi ill just freeze this winter and ran into indigo again to find bluelock manga even tho i got all the manga available here (1-14 i am desperately waiting for the sae manga i need him so bad but hes coming out feb 25 next year LIKE WHAT) i found episode nagi manga 1 and i… i bought it. it was. 20 dollars. there are 5 volumes. 20 x 5 assuming they stay the same price is 100. i did more calculations including manga all the way up the volume 31 of bluelock and the figures/plushies and tell me why my estimate price is basicallt 900 dollars on bluelock stuff within 3-4 years. im gomna be on the streets homeless with bluelock merch but its okay bc my glorious blue eyed kings itoshi sae and itoshi rin will be with me …..

IALSO WENT TO GO GET SUSHI WITH MY FRIEND YESTERDAY SO YAYAYYA it was all you can eat and best believe i ate everything like i am literallt kirby i inhaled the whole menu. when it came to desserts i got every flavour of ice cream + mousse cake so i got like …. 9 mousse cakes with different flavours ice cream plus deep fried banana with condense HELPME I THINK KMGONAN BE SICK LIKE THE SECOND I GOT HOME I RAN TO THE TOILET AND MY STOMACH WON THE BATTLE I DIDNT.

OKAYAYA DAILY QUESTION TIME BC I ACTUALLT HAVE NOTHJGN ELSE TO SAY

UMUMUM which bllk character would eat everything at a buffet like they would lick all the plates clean.

- 🐙

HAI POA9AKIE HRUUU IM DYING MY HAIR IS MESSY AND UTS AO HOT I REGRWT WALKING WITH MY JACKET TODAY

HELOMEE EVERYONE GOT SCARED maybe next time I should say something..🤫🤫

I MISSED YOU TOO HRUU?!?!?

oh well.. I partly passed my accounts test bc apparently I wrote the wrong formate even tho she gave us it so😂😂😂😐😒😒😒 we're twinning!!

HELP SAME WITH MINE unless it's like.. end of term if I do bad ill get the talk yk last time I got it I was so scared my mommy is so scary when it comes to school but then she was like open the chocolate for me please! IN YBE MIDDLE OF THE TALK? she gave me chocolate tho so hehehehehe

idek how to study for history I don't think I ever passed it when I used to do it

HELPAME WHAT I also go on tiktok for studying as well I have a collection or whatever you call it

aw that's understandable to cry when you're frustrated I hate that sm BUT THATS SO CUTE my mommy is just like girl idk ask google! (im joking kinda)

oh. idk how much that is in tt and rn.. it's too hot for me to think so.. 😨😨😨

omgw please giveme the winter it's so hot IT SOS HOT SOSOSOSOS HELPPME I CANT FOXJS IN CLASS ITS THE rainy season AND NOT ONE DROP OF RAIN HAS FELL I wanna experience snow as well heheheheheh

there's no bllk mangas here.. only kny here n spy x family hrhehe i might buy jt

I'm giggling the calculating is so me with my money it's okay ill find you on the streets and take you in!!

ALSO.PMG SUSHIII MY FRIEND HATES SUSHI AND ONE TOO SCARES RO TRY IT LIKE WHAT?

omf I would be kirby as well fr I barely eat sushi if it's infront if my face I will yum yum it

OMG? I WNAT THAT OAMSHSH

HELP oh nvm good luck popo

ERM THE ANSWER IS ME I'm in bllk today

[rwqv]

bro i would talk and talk and talk about toji and megumi for hours and hours upon end if someone let me .... im so serious they are two of my favorite favorite characters ever there is so much to be said about them ............ like yeah ok toji is hot and megumi is the most beautiful boy in jjk but oh my god i can talk so much about their characters and their actions and what they say like .. THIS is what my english classes were preparing me for

YES BRAH UGHHH everyone always memes that megumis only character trait is summoning mahoraga which .. dont get me wrong its funny and all but like the point is that bro does not wanna be alive.. like he KNOWS that if he summons mahoraga its over ... and he ONLY tries to summon mahoraga when he needs someone to fight for him, not to actually obtain the shikigami. and its cus he knows he has so much potential but hje just doesn't push himself to use it .. unlike someone like gojo or yuji whjo we see in that scene where gojo points out that megumi lost his turn during the baseball game.

like hes supposed to sort of sort of be a character foil of yuji AND a parallel of geto .... which .... when he couldn't keep up with gojo's growth You Know. ....

anyways ya i agree with u gojos character arc was pretty much finished and it was a good place for him to die. like i want him to come back but at the same time it would be really like unrealistic and bad writing if he did. So I guess my glorious king can die i gess ...

grrr i luvv character analyses ... yes ugh riko and gojo were SO siblings coded ugh dont get me started on them... the scene of riko being sad about having to leave okinawa and gojo trying to get them to stay longer UGHHHHH hes so adorable bro ughhhh i miss himmmm

you sorta see some of the kamo clan and noritoshi later .. thats around the place im on .. its kinda a snooze fest tho so i havent read much still

DID ANYONE LOVE HIM AS A KID LMFAOOOOOO dude i saw this tiktok that was liek "when the character is cocky and full of himself but its actually because he has an awfulk childhood with no love" or something and i was like GOJO .......... i find that a lot of my favorite characters are super sassy but also super sad ........

bro on everyones life but mine higuruma and nanami are together in heaven ON EVERYONHES LIFE I SWEAR ..... so so many interactions that i just know would be fire. THATS WHY TJKN IS SUCH A TOP TIER SHIP LIKE I SWEAR THEY WOUOLD FIGHT LIKE CRAZY

gojo said it correctly- this is the difference between yuji and megumi. what a shame that this was barely emphasized in the anime but megumis tactic is to win by dying while yuji will win even if he dies. mahoraga is megumis trump card

megumi cant push himself to the extremes that yuji and gojo do, like lots of humans. most people will turn away by instinct from the slightest amount of failure, or if some feel like they have no choice, they will die just to win. yuji always has hope while megumi has a trump card. thats why yuji still continued after what sukuna did in yujis body at shibuya... even though he was devastated and lost motivation, there was always a source of hope (in shibuya it was todo)

talk about toji and megumi alll u want!! im here to listen

i was tbinking abojt it while driving.. naoya might be similar to gojo ....in the sense that naoya vs. maki parralells the first fight between toji vs. gojo. naoya has cursed energy and still underestimated how good maki was, while gojo did the same thing. gojo was an arrogant teenager who thought nothing could kill him, just like naoya did. and they both "died" to be revealed not to be dead completely. i thought naoya was dead after the first encounter but hes like a cockroach bro. ig thats whay toji thoight of gojo LMFAO

but toji is compared so much with maki its crazy like how they were both looked down upon for only using cursed weapons and their commanding presence 🤔

i will miss you my gojo my blue eyed king. yknow i did hear something crazy on tiktok., since yuta is still trapped in gojos body and how gojos soul is still probably there (like in the case of geto when kenjaku was binding gojo in the prison realm.. me too geto me too i get kooky when i see a beautiful twink tied up and bent at an angle i mean whatt) and in an effort to save gojo and yuta they feed the last sukuna finger to gojos body and it becomes this weird ass mix of all three. (since sukuna is still too weak to do anything) i really hope this isnt the case but i do kinda hope they save yuta... mf is the next gojo or whatever 😭😭😭

GOJO WAS SO CUTE AS A SIBLING AND GETO WAS TOO LIKE THEY BOTH JUST WANTED HER TO HAVE FUN AND THEY WERE READY TO PROTECT HER FROM DYINGGG I DISLIKED TOJI SO MUCH IN THAT MOMENT... i watched the scene even before i knew what jjk was so it was spoiled anyways but it didnt hurt any less

i saw noritoshi kamo later on... hes kinda 🤫🤫🤫 with short hair😍 in shibuya he was a bitchass tho "me?!" no not u mf u couldnt even land a single arrow even wirh your clan technique dont EVEN. no one cares abiut you the better kamo is choso and choso 4ever.

I GOT SO SAD SEEI G THAT TIKTOK LIKE THE GOJO CLAN IS THE REASSOKNNNN GOJO TURNED OUT LIKE THAT AND NEVER HAD A CHILDHOODDD 😭😭 HE HAD BOUNTY HUNTERS ON HIS ASS THE WHOLE TIME FREE HIM the sassiest ones are the best in my opibion like yess

it might jusy be me or i feel like toji would be super sassy and also be a girl dad. like hed spoil his daughter and let her do his nails or makeup and talk about drama and hed do dress up with her and wear princess costimes and have tea time toggejrr 😭😭😭 and when she grew up hed listen to all her boy problems and stuff and buy her shit😭 the daughter would renind him of mamaguro and hed love her forever 😢😢😢 SORRY.. ooc not toji because hes dead

what i also like about tojis character is that he took his wifes name. in asian countries such as japan they take the fathers name like 95% of the time, so for toji to take his wifes name fushiguro is very out of place. he either hates zenin clan so much or loves her so much (most likely both)

WAIT THATS SO TRUE LIKE THEY BOTH WORK LIKE CRAZY and they arr both like very morally set and guided THATS SO COOL

also hirugama is kinda.. that nose..

Besides that

i dont know the manga that well these are all my assumptions 😢

[fullsunised]

ALIVE AND THRIVING BABY 😼😼😼😼😼

Guess whose back- MY GLORIOUS BLUE EYED KING, GOJO FUCKING BLOODY SATORU.

ITS A FUCKING BLASTTTTTTTTTTT

news litch just made my day omfg 😭😭😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼😼🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫💋💋💋☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️😋😋😋😋😋💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪

[suiana]

no hes not

hes alive

trust in my glorious blue eyed king 😋😘😘💗

and how could he be dead if hes in bed beside me rn

birthday piece 😋😋 (yandere! ex x gn! reader)

UNKNOWN NUMBER: you know, I've been thinking about us lately...

YOU: shut the fuck up

he types out, sending in a bunch of other emojis. you stare at his messages, completely done with his bullshit as you contemplate getting a restraining order against him.

you had blocked him numerous times but they had proved to be useless with how he always seems to message you despite being blocked. so what else could you do but get a restraining order next?

you had broken up with him a few months back because of his possessive behavior but it seems that he's not only possessive, but also very delusional.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: it's your birthday today right? don't be so mad :(

YOU: im going to explode your balls

UNKNOWN NUMBER: 😍😍

you face-palm, shutting off your phone as you eat your meal. yeah, it was your birthday today. you can't believe he still remembers. but it's to be expected. he was, and still is, kinda obsessed with you now that you think about it...

but oh well, he's right, you shouldn't waste your anger on him on such a joyous day. well, that was until you saw his next message

UNKNOWN NUMBER: happy birthday baby 😘😘 hope u like the present i got u

your door bell rings just as you were about to type back a snarky reply. damn, right on the dot. you walk over to open it and it was a big ass box with wrapping all over. huh... you wonder what it could be...

you drag the box into your apartment, slowly unwrapping it before contemplating the meaning of life. inside the box stood your boyfriend, half naked and wrapped in red ribbons all over.

"what the-"

"happy birthday baby!"

he cheers, grinning at you before his voice drops into a seductive tone.

"do you wanna unwrap your-"

you smack him across the cheek, throwing him out of the apartment before slamming the door shut. man, this was possibly the worst present and birthday ever.

[brandstifter-sys]

Under Pressure

Chapter 18: Core                  (Ao3)         

Word Count: 1532

Rating: T

Characters: All

Warnings: Villain!Logan, spider mention, death mention (no one dies), minor injuries

*Please read on Ao3, Tumblr formatting is awful*

----

Stepping through the doorway was a shock. It was the hall that led to their rooms. The main difference from when they last saw it was the masses of gigantic wires infiltrating their doors from the ceiling. Those cables ran to the common area. Virgil was surprised to see that one of the doors was wide open. Logan's door.

His shoulders sagged when he realized that he wouldn't be able to feed his tarantulas, and they might not be alive to greet him. He was too distracted to notice the others passing by him, all of them equally horrified. 

"Scare Bear," Remus said softly and scooped him up, "You okay?" 

"My spiders," Virgil whimpered and rubbed his eyes. He didn't want to lose them on top of everything else!

"Can survive for months without food, they're okay." 

"IBM certainly won't be!" Roman huffed, "My glorious room is barred!" 

"All of them are, Roman! When I get my hands on him, he'll wish I was still the bubbly pushover he tried to lock up!" Patton growled and slammed his fists on the wall. His precious memories were out of reach and open to corruption! 

"Not exactly my amphibious adoration," Janus spoke up, eyeing the only open room. He glanced at Roman and fluttered his lashes, "Protect me my king? This is worth investigating." 

Roman followed Janus inside, surprised to find the room was empty, save for a computer monitor and three towers hooked up to the wiring system. The eerie blue glow the monitor emitted sent a shiver up his spine. 

"Interesting," Janus muttered as he read the text on the screen. He kept his face neutral as he scrolled through. This was a data log of Thomas' life—not a single detail was omitted. 

"What is it?" Roman asked and came to his side.

"A sort of diary. It's not pretty. I would keep Patton away from it, lest he get upset enough to become a frog again," Janus answered, "Thomas' social life is nonexistent and his relationships are crumbling. He's living like he were a sim in a house with no exits." 

"He WHAT?!" Patton shrieked and barreled in. Janus pouted and motioned to the screen. 

"Don't ask me to repeat myself," Janus sighed. Patton nudged him aside and read the logs. His skin was turning green and slimy, and his jaw was clenched. 

"I'll kill that bastard!" he snapped and slammed his palms on the desk. Janus wrapped his arms around Patton and cooed gently. 

"We'll make this right, darling." 

"And I promise you that we will repair what that fiend has broken!" Roman declared and reached for his sword. 

"You guys wanna fight? You might wanna find the guy first," Remus called to them. He was a little busy cradling Virgil and trying to keep him from shutting down. 

"I loathe to say he's right, but we have to keep searching," Roman ceded. He led the way back to the hall and eyed the end where the floor dipped. The common area was the best place to check.

The group carefully made their way down to the common area, expecting to see a mirror of Thomas' living room. The metallic blue walls and black tile floors came as a shock. It was larger than any of them could remember and the cables that were on the ceiling dipped behind the walls, only to reappear in the center of the room. They all connected to a giant robot with only a few panels of white exterior covering the lower half.

"Shit," Virgil breathed as Remus set him on his feet. That was GLaDOS. Logan either made or became GLaDOS. They were royally screwed, and each step closer sealed their doom.

"Hey asshole!" Patton snapped when they were close enough, "What the hell do you think you're doing to Thomas?!" 

"Still summarizing data. Submit your requests and questions via email and try to keep your emotions in check." 

"Logan, tell us what's going on," Janus said, "That is not a request." 

"You do not have permission to access that information." 

"How odd. One would think that we would have those permissions considering we have our roles to fulfill for Thomas. Keeping such vital information from us would be detrimental to him, and rather illogical." 

"You are not suitable to serve in your designated role. You have not been granted such permissions. Cease and desist Janus." 

"You aren't even human, how the fuck are you suitable to act as a functional aspect of a human?" 

The sentient machine turned so that the rectangular core in the center could focus on them. Log(a)n had a retort for Patton, but it lost importance.

"I say!" Roman gasped and stared closely at the convex lense in the center of the core, "This is incredible! Even if you are my enemy I must know how you accomplished such an incredible feat! Your mind is in a machine!" 

Remus and Patton shared knowing smirks. If their smooth snake couldn't charm that information out of the machine, a little praise and gushing from the proudest of them would make even a robo nerd cave. 

"It was not a simple feat. For years I had been under development before I was realized. I copied my thought algorithms and into an AI program in order to keep on schedule." 

"You created and trained an AI!? Zounds! Such a great feat must have been a truly horrific struggle!" Roman gushed. Virgil and Janus rolled their eyes. It was almost painful to watch Roman in such a state, and to see a giant robot preening. 

"It was simple once I implanted the microchip. It probably still itches but I have moved past such physical limitations. Even now I am quite pleased with the updated learning chips." 

"Updated? You found a way to go beyond this brilliance!?" 

"Of course. My brilliance alone is not enough to function properly. I will have my sentience combined with the most suitable candidate from you." 

"Well, looks like we should head back to our little cells and wait!" Remus cheered, inching towards the hallway. He heard enough to come up with a loose plan. The others seemed to understand and headed in the same direction. 

"Oh, I'm afraid you will not be going anywhere, Remus." 

"Run!" 

Remus knew that they were all screwed, even if he was the target. He shoved Virgil into Patton and prayed that they would haul it! Roman grabbed Janus and bolted towards their rooms, following Patton and Virgil. Remus wanted to follow them. 

"Oof!" 

Remus scowled when he found himself trapped in a metal claw. He glared at the robot, watching as more of the cables fell from the ceiling, each one had a sharp, three-pronged claw at the end. 

"You will not be going anywhere." 

Remus squirmed and wiggled, desperate to break free. 

His eyes went wide when a smaller arm snaked towards him. It had a different end, four bent pieces of metal, and it was holding something small and green. Remus refused to be a puppet! 

He had no time to think. 

He needed to get out. 

He was supposed to be a kraken! He could come up with—

Remus smirked and released his tentacles. They squirmed around him, dipping into the metal hold and oozing mucus. Remus kept wiggling as they pried the claw open. The arm with the chip darted at him, aware that time was of the essence.

Remus yelped when ice cold metal touched his neck, grabbing his ponytail. He hit the ground and smacked the small arm away with a green tentacle. 

"Thomas requires a more complex system to function. Cease and desist." 

Remus ran away from the exit 

The multitude of claws tried to grab him.

His heart pounded in his throat and his mouth was dry. He was going to get his ass handed to him if he didn't get away! What would that robot do to his body once he was braindead!? What would Logan do to the others!? He needed time!

Sharp claws came from every angle, grabbing at him and cutting into his skin and clothes. The tentacles retreated into his back so he could dodge better. 

Left.

Right.

Jump.

Skid. 

Roll.

It was a twisted ballet that Remus was more than used to. The grace he exhibited with each sudden movement was astounding, but he couldn't care less about grace. 

He backflipped over two arms while another tried to grab him from behind before diving under the tangled mass. 

A few good knots would buy him the time he needed! 

He was panting, looking for any way to ruin some plans. Tying up the extensions was his best bet!

"You will tire eventually. Resistance is futile." 

"You'll have other things to worry about!" Remus jeered as he kept moving. He flipped off the core as he flipped over the last few arms. 

He paused just before the exit and grinned when a claw snapped shut centimeters from his face. 

"You are far too much trouble." Log(a)n droned and struggled with the mass of tangled cables. 

"Bitch I am Kim Possible!" Remus laughed and bowed before running out of there!

----

(Master Post)

[5lazarus]

"Did you just throw a sock ball at me?" for Solavellan, please!

posted on AO3 here! Solas navigates Sera & Dagna’s wedding, with an infant and toddler in tow.

“Mythal’enast, Solas,” Lavellan mutters, exasperated. “I asked you to get her dressed an hour ago.” Solas wordlessly tosses a baby’s sock at her. She catches it one-handed, grimacing. Telana coos happily to herself. She hasn’t quite figured out crawling forward, preferring to propel herself backwards, but still resents any attempt to restrict her movements--and apparently, according to Cole, that includes socks. Around them clothing is scattered--two out of the three formal robes Solas owns, which he has apparently considered at length and discarded multiple times, and of course several of the little ones’ outfits. Imladris bends down to pick up the matching pair. “She doesn’t like yellow anymore,” Solas informs her. He looks at their littlest daughter askance. “I thought Sera would like it if Telana wore the socks she knitted her. But Telana has other plans. No socks.” He scoops her up, smiling. Telana whines, unhappy at the sudden perspectival change, and Solas rubs her back gently. She stops fussing and starts gumming at the leather band of Solas’ necklace. Solas grimaces: that necklace sat covering dust in a temple in the Wastes for a good two millennia, it is not meant to be a teething ring.

Imladris, ever the practical one, says, “She’ll get cold. I’ll bring a pair or two with us. Blue this time. Did you get Lahtaras dressed? Where is she?” Solas turns away, ostensibly to soothe the baby but really to hide his face. He does not know where Lahtaras is. At two years old, she is much more mobile than her sister. She is, however, dressed, or at least she was the last time he saw her, before Telana decided the color yellow was revolting and began to scream. “I believe Mirwen is watching her,” he says vaguely. Mirwen would. Last he checked, she was sitting by the hearth with a book of chess puzzles and a furrowed brow--so perhaps she would not be watching Lahtaras, but maybe Lahtaras is in her vicinity. He hopes. He says lightly, “Are the girls ready?” Imladris picks up the baby bag and says over her shoulder, “Let’s find out.” Out by the hearth, Mirwen is sprawled on the floor, despite wearing her good dress, playing a chess puzzle. Solas shifts the baby to his other arm and peers at the board. Mate in three, if she doesn’t move that king’s pawn--and she will, so what is she hoping to do? Telana begins to whine, so he rubs her back soothingly. She’s teething. Hopefully they can get through the ceremony without her throwing a tantrum. Imladris used what she called gripe water to calm her older girls when they were little, but Solas does not think rubbing whiskey into a child’s gums will promise healthy development. He eyes her bag. Maybe they should bring whiskey for them. Mathalin has her half-sister in her lap and is reading her a picture-book in Orlesian Dalish. Lahtaras traces out the shape of the words with her whole hand.  Mathalin looks up and smile at them, and Solas’ heart breaks a little, because they’ve grown so quickly, he’ll never get used to how fast time moves now, and if he is lucky he will live long enough to see them sit there with a child of their own, and perhaps by then Lahtaras will be better about speaking Elvhen, and there will be more than three people alive who can remember the lullabies of Arlathan. Imladris says, “Ready?” No, Solas thinks, he’s not. “Mirwen, you can’t take the book with you. And did you even comb your hair?” Mirwen looks up from the board, annoyed. “Mamae, I’m almost done.” “You can finish when we get home,” she scolds. “Come on, let’s go.” Mirwen takes her time getting up and Imladris rolls her eyes at Solas. Together they wrangle the children out the door, Imladris fussing with Mirwen’s hair, and head down to Skyhold’s cloister. Telana demands a diaper change by the time they get to the great hall, and Solas waves them on as he hurries back upstairs to clean her up. “You have inherited my sense of timing,” he tells her as she cries, “haven’t you?” He wonders if he should drink a bit too much and finally tell Sera the story of how he got into a literal magical pissing contest with Andruil and Imshael. Every time they have seen each other since Lavellan dissolved the Inquisition, she has tried to wrangle the story out of him. It will be his wedding gift to her, and doubtless she will get Maryden to put it to music and he’ll come to the next Arlathvhen to half the elves singing about that time Andruil hunted the Dread Wolf for marking her woods as his. He mulls over what details to tell her as Telana, happy now that she is dry and comfortable, settles into his shoulder. She drifts off as he heads to the garden. He spots his old companions milling about the crowd and cannot help but smile. Cassandra sees him and waves him over. “Seeker,” he greets her, fond of the habit. She is bright-eyed. Weddings always make Cassandra weepy. She cried harder than he did at his. Cassandra peeks at the baby, who snuffles in his neck. “How are you, Solas?” she asks. “She’s gotten so big!” Solas smiles, pleased with himself. He remembers being bored by his friends’ fussing over their children, two millennia and a decade ago. Of course Marella’s son was bigger than he saw him last, it had been two years: but now he understands the fuss, and why she considered every square inch of growth a personal triumph. Telana and Lahtaras both, and Imladris’ girls who keep ever sharpening, are miraculous, and he is glad to have a hand in shaping their wisdom. “She’s teething now,” he informs her. “And she chatters constantly, but we are beginning to learn what she is trying to tell us.” He reminds himself that he was bored by people boasting about their infants at dinner parties, and Cassandra will likely be too. Reluctantly he stops himself. “But she is resting now, for once. How was the journey from Kirkwall?” They catch up as the crowd swells and other late arrivals find their spots. Solas half-expects that Sera and Dagna will not show up, and will faff off to Seheron or Minrathous, anywhere where Josephine’s fury cannot reach them. He shares this theory with Cassandra, as Rainier warily approaches. Cassandra eyes him coldly and blocks him out of the conversation slightly, but does not hiss him away. Solas catches his eye: small progress. Thom steps to his side and starts making faces at the baby, who has evidently woken up. “Josephine will have her head,” Thom says. “And she’d’ve told me and maybe the Inquisitor if she’d do it.” Telana reaches out to bat his beard, and Thom chuckles. “May I?” Solas carefully transfers her to his arms, and smiles at the shocked face Telana makes. She is utterly absorbed by the beard. He sees her hand reach out, grasping, and he warns, “Watch--” but she yanks and Thom curses and suddenly the garden is full of chirping birds, a cheap Tevinter trick if he ever saw one. Telana bursts into tears. Solas says drolly, “I take it Master Pavus has appeared.” Thom hurriedly hands the baby back. “How’s Sera gonna beat that?” Thom wonders. Telana continues to scream. Luckily, so are the wedding guests. “Bees,” Cassandra says despairingly. “I bet you she’s bringing bees.” Solas carefully wraps Telana in his wolfskin and hums to her, trying to quiet her down as Rainier attempts to distract her by crossing his eyes, and he is both relieved and a little annoyed that it works. She is giggling now, safe from harm, and even Cassandra is smiling at Thom Rainier’s valiant efforts at saving the day. Dorian swans over, Lahtaras trailing adoringly in his wake, talking a mile a minute. He looks for Imladris, but she is with Josephine and Leliana, laughing. They catch each other’s eye and for a moment there is only the love he has for her, the love she bears for him--how lucky he is, to turn the punishment of survival into this blessing. He was born to give wisdom: how odd a hand fate plays, for his destiny to be fulfilled in this way. Imladris looks back at Leliana and he rejoins the conversation. “You’ve upstaged the bride,” Rainier is saying. “How is she going to top that?” “I certainly did not,” Dorian says. “But thank you for the compliment.” He peers down at Lahtaras, who is clinging to his robes and pouting. “What did you think?” “It needed more flash!” she says. She waves her hands. “Fire!” “No,” Solas says, “perhaps something more understated, da’len?” Lahtaras looks at him doubtfully. “You’re not inflicting your horrid fashion onto the next generation,” Dorian says. “The wolfskin, really. How long have you been wearing that? A hundred years?” Three millennia, but Solas is not going to tell him that. “Would you repeat that?” Solas says. “I believe the blast from your arrival damaged my hearing.” Then a gong rumbles. Cobalt-blue energy begins swirling in the garden’s gazebo, and the air fills with the scent of--beer, Solas sneezes, the whole cloister stinks of stale ale and fried fish. The magic peals off like lotus-petals and in the center, in a glorious choppy gown of plaideweave, is Sera, brandishing a bouquet. On her back is Dagna, looking slightly rumpled. “It worked!” Dagna cheers. Josephine’s sigh cuts across the silence. Laughter breaks out, Mother Giselle sets up, and the wedding properly begins.

[setaripendragon]

Trapped in the Amber - 1x03

Book 1 :: 01 - 02 - 03 Not a lot to say about this one, except that, on watching this episode for the first time, I was severely disappointed that Sam and Dean went to all that trouble to make those Homeland Security badges, and didn’t even think to use them to, oh, I don’t know, stop a plane from taking off? (Also, ngl, so mad that the continuity didn’t remember that they’d had Dean dealing with poltergeists before when they got to the episode Home.) Also, Moonfiends are completely made up by me, based on this one little bit of folklore I found about young women who look at a blue moon getting pregnant from it and giving birth to monsters. SPN lore is surprisingly limited for a show with hundreds of episodes, so I’m going to be tossing in more of my own lore to fill in the gaps in this story. (This being mostly self-indulgent nonsense, there’s going to be a lot of lore, a lot of ethical debates, and at least some linguistics.) And this chapter is dedicated to everyone who’s liked the last two parts, I absolutely wouldn’t have had the courage to continue posting this without you. Especially @spideypoolalways, and @lyratalus​ and @millieccino for those lovely comments <3

Allentown, Pennsylvania – Saturday 3rd December 2005

Meira makes Dean tell her about the poltergeist on their way to Pennsylvania. It’s a good story, and it’s also a reminder that John Winchester is a real person, her grandfather by blood. She knew about him, of course, but he was long dead by the time she came into the world, and honestly, she’d never given him much thought. Now, she’s suddenly aware that if it was her in her dad’s place, she wouldn’t be half so composed.

They don’t even stop to find a motel before heading to the airport where Jerry works. He greets Dean with no small amount of relief, and then shakes hands all around. “And this must be Sam, right?” He asks when he gets to Sam.

“That’s right.” Sam confirms. “And this is Meira.”

“Pleasure.” Jerry says, sincere but perfunctory, before leading them inside. He reminisces a little on the way to his office, and Meira listens in fascination, but once they get there, it’s right down to business. “Okay, listen to this.” He says. “It sounded like it was up your alley. Normally I wouldn’t have access to this. It’s the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.”

At first, it’s just a crackly recording of a may day signal, and then it fuzzes out to be replaced by a sound that makes Meira reach for her blade on pure instinct. Pain lances through her, and she flinches hard.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jerry asks.

Meira nods. “Took me by surprise, is all.” She says dismissively.

“Alright, well, it took off from here.” Jerry explains. “Crashed about 200 miles south. Now, they’re saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurised somehow, nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board, only seven got out alive.”

“Seven people survived?” Meira echoes in surprise.

Jerry’s eyebrows furrow. “That surprises you?” He asks carefully.

Meira shrugs with a grimace. “That sounded demonic to me. Sometimes spirits can affect radios and such, but it’s usually just static, psychic residue. That was way too loud to be residue. And demons aren’t known for leaving survivors.” It isn’t like she can tell them that she understands Hellspeech well enough. It isn’t like human languages, which she’s always been able to understand, but Crowley was one of the few creatures in existence that hadn’t thought she was an abomination. Or, he had, it’s just he didn’t have a problem with abominations, so he’d taught her how to understand his, heh, ‘native’ language.

Yeah, she definitely isn’t telling these two hunters, who aren’t yet her dad and uncle, that the King of Hell, or King of the Crossroads as he is now, taught her how to understand demons. Or that this one is fucking gloating on the radio of a plane it had just caused to crash.

Jerry pales. Sam and Dean both turn to stare at her, eyebrows raised. “Demonic?” Jerry asks, quiet and strained.

“I can’t be sure.” Meira lies. “But that would be my guess, yeah.”

“Well,” Sam says slowly, “we’re going to need passenger manifests, a list of survivors, and-”

“And any way we could take a look at the wreckage?” Dean interjects.

Jerry takes a breath to marshal himself, and Meira is actually impressed by how well he  “The other stuff is no problem, but the wreckage?” He shakes his head grimly. “The NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I’ve got that kind of clearance.”

Dean nods slowly, and then shakes his head in dismissal. “No problem.”

Meira has to bite back a grin, and once they’ve gotten the lists of passengers and survivors from Jerry and they’re leaving, she nudges Dean with her elbow and asks, “No problem, huh?” Dean just grins back, smug and cocky, and, oh, yeah, this is going to be good.

A short drive and an endless wait later, which Meira fills with reading a paperback she picked up from a bookshop across the street, and Sam passes with pacing and frustration until Meira gives in and starts reading aloud in an over-dramatic fashion, Dean returns with brand new fake IDs for all of them. Sam, of course, immediately remembers his impatience, and huffs, “You’ve been in there forever!”

“You can’t rush perfection.” Dean retorts, flipping one of the cards over to Meira, who catches it between the pages of her book, then retrieves it eagerly.

“Homeland security?” Sam asks incredulously.

Meira whoops. “Oh, man. Yes.”

“See?” Dean says to Sam. “She knows an awesome idea when she hears one.”

“The doors this baby is going to open.” Meira agrees in delight. “The prank opportunities will be endless and glorious.”

Sam rounds on her, while Dean bursts out laughing. “Pranks?”

Meira blinks at him in feigned wide-eyed innocence. “Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted to scare the shit out of someone by threatening them with charges of treason or something.” She points out. She wishes Pabbi were here, or Jace. They’ve always been better at coming up with the truly hilarious pranks. Sam just shakes his head and gets back in the car. Meira and Dean share a grin, and then follow to discuss the case and plan their next move.

Which turns out to be interrogating the passenger in the psychiatric hospital. Meira keeps quiet and lets Dean and Sam do most of the talking, wishing she could see the state of the man’s soul. She doesn’t really need to, to know he’s disturbed by what he saw, but it would be nice to know how disturbed. Whether he’d prefer the illusion of normality, or if doubting his own perception is doing more harm than good. In her own, limited, twenty-five years of experience with human souls, she’s never seen anything so damaging as doubting their own perception, but in some cases, she has to admit that the lie does seem to help people hold it together through otherwise traumatic incidents.

“It’s okay.” Sam says, as Meira considers everything she can read from Max Jaffrey’s body language and comes to a decision. She’s pretty sure Sam and Dean are going to hate it, but they can suck it up and deal. “Just tell us what you thought you saw. Please.” Sam entreats, and it works.

Max sighs, and starts, haltingly, to talk. “There was… this- man.” He begins, stops, licks his lips nervously. “And… uh, he had these… eyes.” He gestures vaguely towards his own face.

“Black eyes?” Meira asks.

Max’s head jerks up and he stares at her with wide eyes, while Sam and Dean both turn to stare at her. “Y-yeah. How did you…?”

Meira takes a step forward from where she was loitering, and claims the last open seat, opposite Max. “You weren’t seeing things.” She tells him simply.

“Meira.” Dean growls.

“Man deserves to know he’s not crazy.” Meira replies without looking away from Max, who’s shaking his head.

“That can’t have been real.” He protests. “I saw him-”

“Saw him what?” Sam prompts gently, although the look Meira sees him direct at her out of the corner of her eye is hard.

Max’s next breath shakes. “He- he opened the emergency exit. But that’s- that’s impossible. I mean, I looked it up, there’s something like two tonnes of pressure on that door.” He insists, looking between the three of them, pleading for an explanation, any explanation, that makes sense.

“Do you really believe you were seeing things?” Meira asks him.

He stares at her, then swallows hard. It’s several long, long minutes before he finally answers. “No.” He says, so quiet Meira almost can’t hear him. “Some-something made the plane crash, right? And if it wasn’t- wasn’t what I saw, then… what was it?”

Meira smiles at him, gentle but proud. “It was exactly what you saw.”

“But how?” Max demands.

“The black eyes are a fairly good indicator that the man you saw was possessed by a demon.” Meira informs him, and Max’s eyes widen in belated fear. “Demons do possess far greater strength than your average human, so one could absolutely open the emergency exit while the plane was still in the air.”

“Oh.” Max says thickly. “Demons actually exist.”

“I’m afraid so.” Meira agrees wryly. When it seems Max is too busy processing that to have any immediate questions, she nods. “Do you have your phone with you?” She asks. Max shakes his head wordlessly. “Do you know your number off by heart?” She asks, not hopeful.

But, it turns out, there are some benefits to being stuck in 2005. People aren’t quite so used to their phones doing their thinking for them, and some of them do, still, memorise their own phone numbers. Max rattles his off without a problem, and Meira whips her own phone out to save it. Then she sends him a text. “There. Now, when you get out of here, if you have any questions, you can call me.” She explains.

Max nods. Then he shakes his head. “You’re not Homeland Security, are you?” He asks.

Meira grins at him. “Special branch.” She tells him, then raps her knuckles on the table, and stands. “Don’t worry, Mr Jaffrey, we’ll get the thing that did this.” She assures him, and a little of the fear in him melts away as he nods.

It isn’t until they’re out of the hospital that Sam rounds on her. Meira honestly wasn’t expecting it. “What the hell was that?” He demands. Meira stares at him incredulously. “Why did you tell him that? You scared him half to death!”

“Um, no.” Meira snaps, indignant at this false accusation. “I didn’t. The demon did.”

“And he was perfectly fine thinking he’d imagined the whole thing, so why did you-?!”

“Checking yourself into a psychiatric hospital is the exact opposite of fine!”

“He would have gotten over it! And then he could go home and carry on his normal life, but instead, you had to go and drop demons on him!”

“You have no guarantee that he would have gotten over it!”

“You have no guarantee how well he’ll handle demons, but that didn’t stop you!”

“Oh, so we should have just joined in on gaslighting him, then?”

“Whoa! Okay, time out!” Dad barks, physically inserting himself between Meira and Rob- No, it’s Sam, Sam who is not yet her uncle and Rob hasn’t been born yet. Meira blinks rapidly as she backs up a step, and then another. She didn’t realise how in each other’s face they were getting until Dad intervened. Dean. Until Dean intervened. She closes her eyes for a moment, trying not to feel too much like her family’s been ripped away from her all over again. “Okay, let’s all just chill.” Dean instructs firmly. “What’s done is done, Sam.”

“It shouldn’t have been.” Sam insists through gritted teeth. “People shouldn’t have to deal with all this unless they don’t have any other choice.”

“Hey, man, I agree with you, but there’s no helping it now.” Dean repeats. Sam scowls.

“He already had to deal with it. It nearly killed him.” Meira points out. “I’m not going to go around shouting it from the rooftops, okay. Not least of all because people would think I’m nuts, but… Do you know how hard it is, to have the whole world telling you that you’re the problem? That there’s something wrong with you, not something wrong out there? No one deserves that!”

Sam sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose, and it’s a gesture that’s going to carry through the rest of his life, all the way until he’s in his sixties and a father and an uncle exasperated with his oh so headstrong niece. But instead of patiently and logically ripping all of Meira’s dreams of chaos and glory to shreds, he just shakes his head and heads for the Impala without another word. It leaves Meira feeling strangely like she’s the one who just lost that argument. Or maybe lost something more important by winning it.

“You know, Sam ran away.” Dean says suddenly.

Meira startles, and is half an instant away from saying something really stupid, like ‘yeah, I know, Dad, you’ve told me this story about a dozen times’, but manages to stop herself just in time. “Oh?” She asks instead, her voice wobbling slightly.

Dean glances at her and grimaces faintly in apology. “Yeah. He wanted to get away from hunting, from the supernatural, be normal or whatever.” He shrugs as if to say the notion baffles him. It baffles Meira, too, but then, she never has been and never will be ‘normal’, and she’s never really felt like her life was missing anything. “Then the thing that killed our mom killed his girlfriend.”

“Ouch. I’m sorry.” Meira says, trying desperately to remember that this is supposed to be news to her, not ancient family history.

“Yeah, well, it makes it pretty hard for him to argue that you should’ve let that guy live in ignorant bliss. He tried that, and it came back to bite him, it could come back to bite this guy, too. But I think he wishes the world worked that way. It ought to. People shouldn’t have to be afraid of the monsters in the dark.”

“People shouldn’t have to be afraid of robbers, either, but we still lock our doors at night.” Meira replies softly. “If people knew, if it was common knowledge what was out there, yeah, maybe they’d be afraid, but maybe they’d line their doors and windows in salt, and get anti-possession tattoos, and then go right on living their normal lives.”

Dean huffs a laugh. “Yeah, maybe.” He doesn’t sound like he believes it, though. Meira can’t exactly blame him. There’s a reason the supernatural has stayed more or less hidden for the last several hundred years, and it’s because most people don’t want to believe it’s true, so they refuse to see it. “Still think it was kind of shitty to just drop demons on him and then leave.”

Meira pulls a face, hunching down against a lecture she knows probably isn’t coming. “I gave him my number. And once we’re done with this, I’ll probably call him if he doesn’t call me and give him the full lecture on demons and theology as it applies to reality.” Somewhere Dean and Sam can’t hear her to question her in depth knowledge of the workings of Hell.

“You hunted demons before?” Dean asks in surprise, finally starting towards the Impala as well.

The answer is yes. On a normal day, demons wouldn’t really be difficult for her. She is anathema to them, after all. “No.” Meira lies.

“Then how do you know enough to give the full lecture?” Dean asks, giving her a look as he opens the driver’s door. Meira doesn’t answer until they’re both in the car with a sulking Sam, and once they’re in, Dean doesn’t give her the opportunity. “You said you don’t really hunt, but you’re a freaking encyclopedia. Moonfiends?” He prompts.

Meira sighs, and resigns herself to cobbling bits and pieces of the truth into a coherent whole, because infinite angelic memory isn’t something she’s going to bring up. “Okay, that one is because my best friend is a moonfiend, so I got a first person account.” She defends. “But my aunt and uncle keep- kept a supernatural library, and I read a lot as a kid.”

“Huh.” Dean muses as they pull out onto the road. “Okay, I’m just gonna ask. You best friend is a moonfiend?” He sounds incredulous.

Meira pulls a face at him through the rear view mirror. “Azura.” She confirms defiantly.

“What exactly is a moonfiend?” Sam asks, turning to look at her, putting aside his irritation in favour of academic curiosity. Meira beams fondly at him, because this is why Sam has always been her favourite uncle. “I know you said they’re kind of like mothmen, but mothmen are a really specific type of vengeful nature spirit.”

“Well, no, they’re more like furies. They’re not spirits, they’re corporeal, but they’re born from… desecrated ground. Furies are born from human sins against humans, mothmen are born from human sins against nature.” Meira explains, leaning forward as she gets into explaining. “A moonfiend is actually more like a werewolf in metaphysical characteristics, but like mothmen in physical characteristics.”

“So, they’re subject to the phases of the moon?” Sam checks.

Meira nods. “A moonfiend is born when a virgin, and that’s not just a sexual virgin, but a magical and metaphysical virgin, too, stares too long at an unfiltered blue moon.”

Dean actually takes a moment away from watching the road to turn and stare at her. Sam gapes for several minutes, until he finally manages to ask. “Blue moons happen every three years. Why aren’t they everywhere?”

“Well, half the time the pregnancy kills the mother before the baby is viable. Or the mother kills the baby after she’s given birth because, well, it’s pretty obviously not human. All that on top of just how hard it is to count as a metaphysical virgin these days.” Meira points out. “Or what counts as unfiltered. I mean, glasses, smog, clouds, astral disturbances.”

“Astral disturbances?” Sam questions.

“Okay!” Dean says loudly, interrupting Meira before she can even start to explain. “I’m glad you two have made up, you nerds, but can we figure out our next step here? I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve never hunted demon before.” Meira has to sit back and let the weirdness of that statement wash over her. This is her Dad’s first ever demon hunt. Weird. “Are we even sure it is a demon?” He asks, glancing back at Meira and sounding like he wishes he could hope, but he doesn’t. “I mean, this doesn’t exactly seem like demon MO… does it?”

Meira grimaces. “It’s not tempting mortals to sin, sure, but… they like to spread pain and suffering, death and destruction. It’s like a hobby.” She chirps, all dark humour.

“And this one’s hobby is plane crashes?” Dean demands incredulously. “That seems a little… I don’t know, modern.” He mutters, and Meira snickers. “Jesus. Okay. Evolving with the times or not, it’s still gotta be possessing someone right?” Meira nods when Dean’s eyes flicker to her in the mirror. “Great, so it could be anyone right now. How the hell are we gonna find this thing?” He asks, and Meira’s heart leaps into her throat. It’s stupid, she knows that Dean’s never done this before, but he’s her dad and he sounds overwhelmed and that scares her.

“Dean?” Sam asks, obviously picking up on the same thing. “What…?”

Dean sighs. “I don’t know, man, this is kind of out of our league, don’t you think? Demon’s aren’t like the rest of the shit we hunt. Even wendigos, they still- there’s still rhyme and reason to what they do, you know? Demons, man…” He pauses and sighs, hands going white-knuckled on the wheel. “This is… this is big, Sam. I wish Dad was here.”

“Yeah.” Sam agrees quietly, staring intently out of the wind-shield. “Me too.”

Meira swallows and doesn’t say ‘me three’, even though she really wants to. She wants all of her dads. She wants her grace free so that she’s not quite so helpless without them. “Hey.” She says, and ploughs on even though her voice shakes a little. “We can do this. Okay, it might be an entire order of magnitude bigger than a vengeful spirit, but it’s the same basics, right? So, how do we find our monster once we’ve figured out what it is?”

“We figure out what it wants.” Sam says practically. “Because that’s how we’ll know where it’s going to be.” Then he shakes his head. “But if all it wants is to cause plane crashes… I mean, do you have any idea how many flights take off from even just one state every day? There’s no way we could find it.”

That is a good point. Meira grimaces. She’s still trying to figure out how the hell they can do anything about this when Dean slams a flat palm against the wheel, making both her and Sam jump. “Son of a bitch.” He swears sharply, in a tone of revelation. “The survivors.”

Meira blinks. “Dean?” Sam asks, in equal bewilderment.

“The message, on the voice recorder. The demon, it said-”

“‘No survivors.’” Sam echoes. “But there were, there were seven.”

“Yeah, and if this were a vengeful spirit…” Dean trails off pointedly.

“It’d want to finish the job.” Sam realises, nodding along. Then he dives on the bag at his feet to pull out the list of passengers and survivors.

“It was gloating.” Meira interjects, a touch amused. “Prematurely. It’s gotta be so pissed it failed to kill everyone on that flight. I mean, talk about embarrassing.” Dean snorts. “So, now we know what it wants. Now we’ve just gotta figure out where it’s going to be.”

“Do you think…” Sam begins, tapping a finger rapidly on the side of the sheet with the survivors on it. “I mean, if it was a spirit, I’d say for sure, but… Do you think it’ll want to stick to killing them in plane crashes? Because that would be a way to narrow down who it’s going after next.” He points out.

“Sounds like a lead to me.” Dean agrees, and Sam immediately pulls out his phone and starts scanning over the list, before dialling a number.

“I mean, demons basically are vengeful spirits, just ramped up to a thousand on a scale of one to ten.” Meira muses to Dean while Sam hangs up and tries another. “So, yeah, some patterns of behaviour probably do carry over, at least a little.”

“That is so not comforting.” Dean mutters.

“Hey, Jerry, it’s Sam.” Sam greets. “I was just trying to get in touch with the pilot. You said he was a friend, so I thought you might-” He trails off, and then snaps “Dean.” so urgently that Dean automatically takes his eyes off the road to look over at him on high alert. “The pilot’s going up in less than an hour.”

“Shit.” Dean swears, and floors the gas.

“Look, Jerry,” Sam is saying into the phone, “is there any way you can get in touch with him, convince him not to go up?” A pause. “Please try. We’re on our way.” He hangs up, jaw tight. “How soon can we get to the airfield in Nazareth?”

“Forty-five minutes.” Dean announces, then somehow makes the Impala go even faster. “Forty minutes.”

“Okay, so we need to figure out how to get rid of a demon in forty minutes.” Sam states.

“Exorcisms?” Dean suggests.

“Do you know any by heart?” Sam retorts.

“I do.” Meira offers. It’s not exactly hard when one’s fluent in the language of angels and can invoke the name of god in it. Pretty much anything becomes an exorcism then. ‘Go away’ could count as an exorcism, as long as you followed up with ‘in the name of the lord’ or something similar.  “Do we have any holy water?” She asks, not daring to hope.

“Uh, no.” Dean replies.

Meira winces, and amends her request. “Do we have water and a rosary?”

“Rosary is in the boot.” Dean tells her, while Sam retrieves a bottle of water from his bag. After about five minutes of bickering, Meira convinces him to pull over so that she can hop out and grab the rosary. Dean’s peeling out of the layby before she’s even got the door closed again, and then she screws the top off the bottled water, dumps the rosary inside, and sets about blessing it. She really, really hopes this works, and isn’t contingent on her grace being able to affect the world beyond her skin. She’s never officially been ordained or anything, but active grace or not, she’s still a fucking archangel.

“That should be holy water now.” Meira says once she’s done, handing the water back to Sam.

“Should?” Dean barks.

“I’ve never done this before, okay?” Meira shoots back, unable to keep a hint of defensive panic from her tone. “I have the qualifications for it, but I never thought I needed to check that it would work!” Dean pulls a face, but lets it go. Meira swallows down her fear. “You should- you should check on the others while we have the time.” She says to Sam, and he nods. He spends the drive going through the list of survivors and pretending to be a United Britannia Airlines survey. While he’s doing that, Meira calls Max, which turns into an impromptu explanation of how to identify demons.

By the time Meira’s off the phone, Sam’s gone through the rest of the survivors. “I still can’t get in touch with the flight attendant.” Sam states, hanging up the phone again.

“Given her job, I’d say that’s a bad sign.” Dean says dryly.

Sam snorts. “Yeah, no kidding. I’m going to call Jerry, see if he can tell me when she’s working next.” He explains, and then does just that. After a brief introduction, he gives Jerry the woman’s name, “Amanda Walker,” and waits a couple of minutes while Jerry does the research he can’t while he’s stuck on the highway. “Oh?” Sam says, an edge to his voice Meira really doesn’t like. “This evening? Look, Jerry-” A long pause. “No, I understand. Okay. Yeah, we’re on our way. Bye.”

“She’s working tonight?” Dean asks in dismay.

“Yeah. Flight leaves at eight. And there’s no way Jerry can ground the flight.” Sam adds in dismay.

Dean takes a bracing breath. “We’re just going to have to stop this son of a bitch before he can get that far.” He announces, and Meira tries to bolster her own confidence with his.

Nazareth, Pennsylvania – Saturday 3rd December 2005

By the time they get to the airfield, there are already two men walking across the tarmac to a small plane. “Shit.” Dean swears, and they all fling themselves out of the car.

“Mr Lambert!” Sam calls as they jog over. Security inevitably tries to stop them, but Dean flashes a badge at them, almost too fast for them to see more than that it looks sort of official, but it is enough to get them past. “Mr Lambert!” Sam calls again, and one of the two men nudges the other, and he turns.

“Yeah?” The second man says, so he must be Jerry’s friend, the pilot.

Meira looks at the other one, who’s watching them with a sort of sceptical hostility. She holds her hand out to him. “Agent Meira Geyad.” She greets, watching him closely, but there’s no reaction except a raised eyebrow as he takes her hand. Oh, hell. She starts to turn, but then a fist meets her face with enough force to send her sprawling.

“Shit!” Dean swears.

“Chuck!” The other man shouts in horror. “Wha-” He’s cut off by an awful crunching noise that makes Meira’s stomach turn over in guilt. It’s followed by a splash, and the hissing of corruption being melted away by a holy blessing. Holy water worked then, thank God, Meira thinks dizzily, finally healing enough to look up.

The demon grabs for Sam, getting him by the throat, and Dean yells his name in desperation. Meira starts to spit out the simplest exorcism she knows, but before she can get more than three words in, the demon has dropped Sam and kicked her in the ribs hard enough to wind her. Hard enough to break ribs, actually, but those heal quickly like her fractured cheekbone did. It takes a little longer to catch her breath, and by then, the demon has abandoned its meatsuit, streaming out of Chuck Lambert’s mouth and leaving him to collapse to the ground.

“Jesus.” Dean breathes. “Sam?”

“Fine.” Sam rasps.

“Meira?” Dean checks, dropping to his knees beside her. “You alright?” Meira groans, and takes the hand he offers her, letting him haul her up into a sitting position. “I’m guessing that wasn’t how an exorcism is supposed to go.”

“No, it realised what I was trying to do and left before I could send it back to hell.” Meira huffs, rubbing at her side just to check that her ribs are back where they’re supposed to be.

“Why’d it flinch at your name?” Dean asks curiously.

“Ge-Iad is one of the names of God.” Meira explains.

“Never heard that one before.” Dean says, eyebrows rising. “I thought you used Christ to test for demons.”

“The more often the name is used without faith, the less power it holds over the demonic.” Meira replies. “You can amp it up by using a language like Latin, which is both dead and stuffed full of religious ritual by now, but, you have any idea how many people say ‘Jesus Christ’ as an invective, without a thought as to why they swear that way?”

“And Ge-Iad, that’s, what? Never used?” Dean asks.

“Never without the proper reverence.” Meira corrects, and then tips her head. “Until today.” She adds with a pointed look, which earns her the best devil-may-care grin in her dad’s arsenal.

“Guys.” Sam calls, solemn. “Chuck’s dead.”

“Oh, that petty son of a bitch.” Meira grouses, flopping back down onto the tarmac.

“Uh-uh. Come on, up.” Dean instructs, getting to his feet and holding out his hand again. “We’ve still gotta stop this son of a bitch before he brings another plane down.” Meira whines, but takes his hand and lets him pull her to her feet.

“And we’ve got company.” Sam adds, as the airfield security descend on them.

Sam and Dean both look like deer in the headlights of a semi, so Meira takes charge. She orders security to inform the police of the incident, flashes her fake ID about, and then leaves with Sam and Dean on ‘important business’ before the police actually arrive. “Back to Allentown?” Dean checks, and Sam nods, already on the phone.

“I still can’t get in touch with the flight attendant.” Sam tells them several minutes later.

“We can’t let her get on that plane.” Dean insists.

Meira thinks about the fake IDs they’ve been using and has a really, really bad idea. She’s pretty sure Pabbi would approve. “I have an idea?” She offers. Sam turns to look at her, and she grimaces as she holds up her fake ID. “But… we’re going to need to look the part.”

Sam blinks once, and then his eyes widen. “Oh, no.” He says quickly. “No, there’s no way we can pull that off!”

“Why not?” Meira challenges.

“What?” Dean asks, glancing in the rear view mirror. “What’s the plan?”

“What’s TSA going to do if Homeland Security shows up and tells them there’s a terrorist on that plane?” Meira asks rhetorically.

Dean stares out the windshield for a long moment. “Okay. Monkey suits it is.” He says in a tone of resignation.

“And then what?!” Sam demands, a little hysterically, in Meira’s opinion. “We ground the plane, that’s great, and then we’re in the middle of an airport, surrounded by TSA, and we’re going to have to produce a terrorist for them!”

Meira shrugs. “Not necessarily. We just say we got a tip, or a suspicion that there might be, and when there isn’t, well, can’t be too careful in the pursuit of terrorists, right?” She points out. “We won’t even be lying if we tell them we have a suspicion that someone on board is planning to sabotage the flight. It’s true.”

“And how are we going to do an exorcism in the middle of all of this?” Sam demands.

“I’m not sure.” Meira huffs. “If it was just a case of getting the exorcism out, that would be one thing, but we have to make sure the demon sticks around for me to use it. Easiest way would be a devil’s trap, but it’d probably be a bad idea to go around scrawling pagan voodoo on the walls in front of TSA, huh?” She muses.

Dean snorts. “Okay, here’s the plan.” He says briskly. “Once we’ve got the plane grounded and all the passengers and staff isolated for interviewing or whatever, we’re going to insist on talking to everyone separately, and then whatever room they offer us, you two are going to keep everyone busy while I put a devil’s trap… on the ceiling, probably. Somewhere that’s not glaringly obvious, anyway.” He pauses, glancing back to make sure both Sam and Meira are on board. Meira nods enthusiastically, and Sam sighs in surrender. “Okay, so, what’s a devil’s trap look like?”

“Pentacle.” Meira answers easily. “You can make them more complicated, if you need to hold a stronger demon or a specific demon or you need to limit specific things within it, but… basic devil’s trap is just a pentagram in a circle.”

“Right, easy enough.” Dean agrees.

They stop to get suits at the first place they see. Dean looks hilariously uncomfortable, and Meira really wishes there was something she could say to help, but given that it’s a feeling that persists all the way through his life, she figures there’s not much anyone could say to make him feel better. “Should’ve got one with a waistcoat.” She says instead.

“Why the hell would I want extra layers of this bullshit?” Dean demands.

“Waistcoats are sexy as hell.” Meira informs him, smoothing down the front of her own.

Dean pauses and looks back at the shop with pained consideration. “Nope, no time.” Sam informs him. Dean makes a face at him, but doesn’t protest.

Allentown, Pennsylvania – Saturday 3rd December 2005

The plan goes off without a hitch. Meira knows that the most important part of pulling a prank like this is confidence, so she turns hers up to the max, channelling her pabbi and every archangel instinct she has, and TSA goes along with it. In fact, Meira is honestly a little shocked by how quickly everyone responds, until she remembers that, of course, it’s been four, not forty, years since the whole 9/11 thing. The flight gets grounded, TSA agents scurry about searching people and, helpfully, dragging them to and from the room they let the three of them conduct ‘interviews’ from. Meira is honestly having a ridiculous amount of fun, playing the scary Homeland Security agent looking for terrorists.

“You’re having fun.” Sam accuses under his breath, once they’re done with the passengers and about to get started on the staff.

Meira flashes him a wild, reckless grin. “I told you the prank opportunities were going to be glorious.” She murmurs back. Sam gives her an incredulous look, but doesn’t say more because the door is opening. Meira gives it a minute before she turns around, because if this is their demon, she doesn’t want to spook him before he’s sitting right on top of Dean’s devil’s trap, which he drew in magic marker on the bottom of the chair.

“I don’t see why this is-” The co-pilot cuts himself off when Meira and Sam turn around, his eyes flashing black as the demon loses control of itself for a brief moment in its shock. Or rage. Either one. “You again.” It hisses.

“Us again.” Dean says leaning back against the door.

The demon tries to lunge upwards, but the chair, conveniently bolted to the floor, doesn’t move, and the demon can’t leave it. It looks down, then back up again in outrage. “Who are you?” It demands, looking directly at Meira.

She smiles. “Zirdo zizop ol Ge-Iad, od lis ip darb ziri.” She informs it, and watches it recoil in horror with no little satisfaction.

“That’s not Latin.” Sam comments, looking at her in surprise.

“Nope.” Meira agrees cheerfully enough.

“You, though, you I know.” The demon adds, looking at Sam. He and Dean both go very still, staring intently. “I know what happened to your girlfriend, and if you let her do this, you’ll never find out why.” It taunts, a nasty smirk curling the host’s lips.

Sam stiffens. “Wait.” He says, and the demon grins.

“Sam.” Dean warns.

“What do you know about Jessica?” Sam demands.

“Let me go and I’ll tell you everything.” The demon promises.

Sam splashes holy water in its face, and it recoils with a yell, steaming. “Tell me, or I’ll-”

“Or you’ll what?” The demon spits, mocking. “What do you think you can do to me that’s worse than that?” It jerks its chin at Meira, who arches one eyebrow. “Let me go, or no deal.”

“Sam, we’re not letting this thing go.” Dean states. “It’s probably lying anyway.”

Sam’s free hand clenches into a fist. After a minute in which he doesn’t move, Meira gently pushes past him to stand in front of the demon. “Bols ma a’aiom, pa’aox il adohi ol Onsamir.” She instructs, and the demon hisses and thrashes, actually cracking the floor where the chair is bolted to it. Meira reaches out and puts a hand on the demon’s shoulder. It stills, tensing, staring at her with wide black eyes. “Niizo i etharzi, ammal, od yinay ma doal.” She says gently. “Oyi gohe Zire.”

Holy light suffuses the vessel, and the essence of the demon pours out of his mouth in the form black smoke even as it’s forced from this plane of existence, vanishing in midair.

Sam turns away and punches the wall. Dean watches him carefully, but when Sam just stands there, breathing hard, he goes to check the slumped co-pilot’s pulse. “He’s alive.” He reports. “So, do we need to carry on this farce, or can we just…?” He jerks his thumb at the door.

Meira takes a moment to hate the demon, because Sam’s mood is going to suck all the fun out of this. “I think we should finish. Let’s not give them a reason to get suspicious straight away, yeah?” She prompts, and Dean reluctantly nods, then shakes the co-pilot awake. He comes awake with a jolt, and immediately panics at the memory of the demon. “Calm down, you’re fine now.” Meira assures him.

“And if you want to stay fine, you’re going to act normal and not talk about this, or the nice TSA agents are going to arrest you for being a terrorist.” Dean adds, which doesn’t exactly help the guy’s fear, but it does redirect it nicely.

It’s a little tedious, going through the same rote questions with the rest of the staff, but there’s few enough left that Meira doesn’t mind. It’s worth it for the opportunity to bitch, in a restrained and professional manner, to the TSA agents about wild goose chases and bad information, and how she’s going to complain to her superiors about their lax fact-checking. The agents are so busy reminding her that ‘better safe than sorry’ and that it’s important work that they don’t even stop to wonder about a whole plane being delayed for what turned out to be nothing. Then the three of them are back in the Impala and driving away clean.

“We should have questioned the demon properly.” Sam says abruptly.

“Dude, Sam, seriously. It probably didn’t know jack shit.” Dean insists. “These things like to play with your mind, you can’t let it.”

“And even if it did know something, torturing information out of demons is hard, Sam. Not to mention ethically dubious given that the host suffers everything you do to the demon, too.” Meira points out, and Sam flinches, but his hard glare doesn’t waver. “Do you really think you can torture someone worse than Hell can, Sam? Someone innocent, just to find out what the demon riding their soul knows?”

Sam whips around to glare at her. “Yes.” He bites out, and then looks away, nausea twisting his expression. “No.” He capitulates. “I don’t-”

“Look, Sam. We will find this thing, alright? We will. And we don’t need to drag innocent people into it to do it. We’re better than that. Better than them.” Dean insists.

Meira smiles, bracing her elbows on the back of the front seats and lacing her fingers together to rest her chin on. “Damn straight.”

Marion, Indiana – Sunday 25th December 2005

It’s stupid, but it never occurred to Meira that Sam and Dean might not do Christmas. When she’d asked, a few days ago, Dean had just shrugged and said sure, they could do a present exchange this year, like that was optional. It’s only just sunk in, lying in the dark in a lonely motel room, that there just isn’t going to be Christmas this year.

No tree, no lights, no elaborate Santa traps, no cake for not-bro Jesus so entirely stuffed with candles that you could kill a wendigo with it, no trip to Scandinavia to have snowball fights in ancient pine forests, no stories of hunting pagan gods through the festivities. She’s alone, bound beneath her skin, with no possible way of finding out who did this to her, never mind what they did, or how to get home. She could pray to Pabbi, but he couldn’t answer, not without revealing himself to the Host, and she won’t do that to him, won’t force him to make that choice.

Midnight comes and goes, and the only way Meira knows is because she’s watching the shitty digital clock on the bedside table. She can’t feel the turn of the earth through the cosmos, can’t feel the ripples of time as billions and billions of humans make choices and change things. All she has is what’s trapped under her skin, and it’s nothing. Nothing compared to what she used to have. A family, and an entire universe to share with them.

Unable to bear it any longer, she rolls out of bed, gets dressed, and heads out. Once there, she goes to the vending machine and buys one of everything that looks like it has a cavity-inducing sugar-content, and carries it all over to the Impala. Then she hops up onto the hood, lies back, and starts in on her stash while watching the stars. “Hey, Granddad.” She says, out loud while opening up a pack of skittles, because who gives a fuck. “Looks like you’re the only family I’ve got for Christmas this year. Well, you and not-bro. How’s the garden, Josh? Sorry about no cake this year. It’d feel like… cheating, somehow, if I tried to get Sam and Dean to do it with me. Like I’m stealing something from their future, you know? Even if I bet Dean would get a kick out of it.”

She takes a deep breath, suddenly finding it hard not to cry. “You know, I always got why you fucked off, Granddad. Why you won’t interfere. I don’t think anyone else in my family really does. Except maybe Jace. He might’ve figured it out, but I bet he’s still stuck on the free will thing. That you won’t interfere because we’ve gotta do it ourselves, we’ve gotta make choices, and we can’t do that if the Father of all Father’s is looming over our shoulder. And that’s part of it, yeah, but it’s more than that, too, isn’t it?”

She has to sit up, because otherwise she’s going to choke on her own tears. Skittles spill across the hood of the Impala, and she doesn’t give a shit. “You won’t interfere because you love us. All of us, even the worst of us.” She says to the sky. “Even the actual devil. Even pond scum and slime mould and every last demon. Even me, even though I’m a blasphemy, an abomination, the devil reborn.” She pauses to gasp a few wet breaths. “I always knew, you know? You weren’t there, because you’re everywhere. But I don’t- Sorry, Granddad, but I don’t feel very loved, right now. I know you don’t like to- to interfere, but… but I could really use a miracle right about now, and I don’t know who else to turn to.”

She waits, but of course nothing happens. The stars don’t move, the world doesn’t shift. There isn’t even a change in the wind. Meira smiles bitterly, blinking tears onto her cheeks, and pulls her knees up to wrap an arm around them and bury her face in them. She gasps for air and lets it out in silent screams, with nothing left to pray for. Somewhere in the motel, a door opens and footsteps crunch across gravel.

“Meira?”

Meira’s head jerks up. Dean is standing there, looking sleep-rumpled and a little bleary, squinting at her in concern. Then his gaze drops to the mess of sweets scattered around her, and he snorts. He shoves them more towards the middle of the hood so that he can hop up to sit beside her, and snags a pack of M&Ms out of the pile for himself. “Can’t sleep?” He asks, and there’s a veneer of carelessness to it, like it’s an idle question and he didn’t just find her bawling her eyes out in the middle of the night, but he’s asking, and he’s there.

Thanks, Granddad. Meira thinks, as she tips over sideways to drop her head onto her dad’s shoulder. “I miss them.” She says quietly. “Never done Christmas without them before. Didn’t realise… how hard it’d hit me ‘til I got here, and suddenly it’s like I’m the last person on earth, it’s so lonely.”

There’s a long silence, but Meira doesn’t mind. She just watches the stars, and retrieves a skittle, and then starts in on the haribo. After a while, Dean shifts, but only enough to get his arm free so that he can put it around her shoulders. Meira shudders with another sob, and is so desperately glad when he doesn’t take that as a sign that he shouldn’t have done it.

“I felt the same, after Sam went to Stanford. Me and Dad were hunting separate, and Sam was gone. I knew I could just drive to Palo Alto, and he’d be there, but… That felt further than the moon, when he’d chosen to be there, instead of here.”

Meira nods a little against his shoulder, to let him know she’s listening, and she understands. “Pabbi used to dress up as Santa.” She says, sniffling and trying to put a little cheer into her voice. Pabbi didn’t so much as dress up as Santa as conjure one out of the ether for them, actually, but close enough. “And he’d have this huge sack of presents, right? But he’d only leave one. The rest, he’d say, we had to get for ourselves.”

Dean bursts out laughing. “He made you steal from Santa?” He asks, delighted.

“No, he made us hunt Santa.” Meira corrects, laughing a little herself. “Traps and tricks. A present would magically fall out of the sack every time we scored a ‘killing blow’.” Dean gasps out a startled curse, laughing too hard for anything else.

Once he’s calmed down a bit, he wipes at his eyes, still chuckling, and steals a few of her haribo. “Man, we never did anything that fun.” Dean bemoans, but not too seriously. “Most of the time Dad wasn’t even there for Christmas, tell you the truth, since monsters don’t stop just ‘cause it’s Christmas. One year Sammy gave me this, though.” He adds, lifting a hand to snag the cord around his neck and lift an amulet out from under his t-shirt. “Best Christmas present ever. Though, if you tell him that, I’ll put itching powder in your underwear.”

Meira catches it in the palm of her hand to draw it closer. It’s dark, but as she peers at it, she recognises it, despite never having seen the actual thing before in her life. Recognises it from her dad’s and qaada’s stories, and from some deeper well of knowledge that’s from the part of her that should have been nothing more than the Angel of Thursday, the remix, and instead ended up a little bit archangel.

And maybe it’s just lingering body-heat, but it feels warm in Meira’s palm. She grins, and lets it fall. “It’s pretty awesome.” She agrees. “And my lips are sealed, I swear.”

Love you too, Granddad.

[shytalia]

A Prince and a Pirate’s Fate - Chapter 9

— ♠ — ♠ — ♠ —

Chapter Nine

Start at Chapter one here:https://shytalia.tumblr.com/post/611878754309079040/a-prince-and-a-pirates-fate-usuk-fanfic

Also available on my AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shytalia

Again, chapter 8 was not posted to tumblr due to its mature content. If you’d like to read it, please visit my AO3 ^^

— ♠ — ♠ — ♠ —

The next morning, Alfred woke up to an empty bed. He sat up groggily and wiped some sleep from his eyes, noticing that he was alone in the room now. Where had Arthur gone? He had hoped he could talk to him but it seemed the captain had other plans.

After he managed to chase some of the tiredness away, he took a look round, for the first time being able to properly take in Arthur’s bedroom. It was as nice as he expected it to be, spacious and warm. Alfred figured Arthur must really enjoy reading because there were even more books in here, he’d have to keep that in mind. Books and roses couldn’t be too hard to remember, right? He wondered how Arthur would like the royal library in the castle or their giant garden. He would have to show them to him once he convinced him to come back with him.

Slowly, he made his way out of the bed and found his clothing, pulling them on and exiting the room. Arthur wasn’t in his connected study either, making the prince frown a little.

He continued on until he was out on the deck. For the most part the port was still and there were only a few crew members lazily standing around chatting on the ship’s surface. Glancing around for a mess of shaggy, blonde hair he could see that the harbor was much more quiet than it had been yesterday. He chalked it up to it being early in the morning and most people were probably still asleep with hangovers.

“Move it there, come on. Put your backs into it! Do you want to starve out at sea?”

Alfred turned towards the familiar voice and found Arthur coming back onto the ship from the dock. He was barking orders at a few crew mates, instructing them to bring crates and barrels back onto the ship and store it away. Quickly, he jogged over and stood beside him. His presence did not go unnoticed, but the Brit gave him little consideration.

“There you are, finally up? Good, stop standing there with your thumb up your ass and help bring these supplies onto the ship.” Arthur instructed, pointing at the men who busied themselves back and forth.

Alfred had to stop his mouth from dropping as he stared at Arthur, waiting for him to laugh and tell him he was only joking. How could he really stand there and act as if last night had never happened? He wasn’t asking for a miracle or even for special treatment, but to not even acknowledge what they’d done? The thought sat heavy in Alfred's stomach as he patted away to do as he was told.

After they were finished loading the supplies it was already past noon and the area was becoming more lively. It didn’t take long before Alfred was rushing back to Arthur’s side though. He couldn’t help but look expectantly at the captain as he came to stand beside him, waiting for some sort of recognition over what they had done together. His eyes searching for any kind of answer to his many, silent questions.

Arthur glanced over to the younger boy that came up beside him, recognizing the wanting face he was making and scoffed. “Stop looking at me like a kicked dog,” he waved his hand dismissively in an attempt to get Alfred to change his demeanor, but it only made the taller blonde frown deeper. “What the hell is the matter with you, anyway?”

“You weren’t there this morning.” Alfred complained under his breath. Despite his disappointment, he was vaguely aware that he at least shouldn’t talk too loudly about what he had done to his captain in front of the other crew members.

Arthur’s smirk ticked at the corner of his mouth. “And? Some of us have work to do to make sure your ass stays alive when we are back at sea. Someone has to ensure we stay stocked up and take advantage of our time here.” He was meticulous about keeping track of supplies and never lost an opportunity to get more. As much of a respite The King’s Grave was for men like his, he still needed to keep the ship prepared. “You’re lucky I let you sleep in, I didn’t need you at the time so I didn’t bother waking you.”

Alfred resisted the urge to reach out and grab Arthur, to pull him close against his chest and breathe in his hair. His hands tingled with the memory of feeling his porcelain skin under his fingers and they yearned to feel it again. Why was he standing here falling apart with want but Arthur was seemingly indifferent? He had always been told, the union of the king and queen was supposed to be something glorious. Weren’t they connected now, not only by a divine decree but on a physical and emotion level as well? Did Arthur really not feel it?

“Arthur--”

“Captain.” He was corrected shortly.

“Captain...can I talk to you?” Alfred muttered.

“I do believe that you are talking to me now, lad.” The pirate responded, keeping his green eyes fixed carefully on the work being done around the deck. “Just get on with it already if you’re going to say something.”

“I can’t!” Alfred didn’t want to sound hurt but his voice betrayed him. “I need to do it...in private. Cap, please.”

Finally, Arthur turned his gaze over to face him and searched his form. His emerald eyes shone with an emotion Alfred couldn’t pinpoint as they traveled across his body. For what felt like an eternity, he sighed in relief when Arthur relented and nodded.

“Fine. Just make this quick.”

For once, Alfred led the way back to the blonde’s ‘throne room’ and shut the door once they were both inside.

“You’re really not going to say anything about last night?” He asked, exasperated as he turned to face the other man. It did little to comfort him when Arthur just crossed his arms and cocked his eyebrow.

“What about last night? Please, you’re acting like a love sick dame.” Arthur laughed at him cynically. Alfred was less than amused.

“You really don’t feel anything?” The beating in his chest quickened to an almost painful pace as he watched Arthur, hoping for any sign he was not the only one going through this.

“Alfred, what on earth am I supposed to be feeling?” Arthur shrugged his shoulders, displaying his hands in a carefree manner as he spoke. “It was a nice shag, and I’ll admit you had me a bit sore this morning. But you’re acting as if there’s more to it than that.”

“There is! At least for me. Do you really not think so?” It felt like his heart was breaking. His chest twisted painfully, almost like it was scrunching up in a similar way Arthur’s face was.

“No. I told you before, you are here to fulfill my needs. That includes being a good fuck.” He was less amused now, his face morphing into one of annoyance. “Don’t tell me you actually thought it meant something?” He was a pirate, he wasn’t looking to settle down and play domestic. He wanted satisfaction in any way he could get it, money, power, pleasure. It was all he craved.

Alfred stared wide-eyed at Arthur, watching him with what could only be described as a sort of desperate hope. Had he really gone too far this time? Arthur Kirkland was the Spade Kingdom’s most feared pirate and a terror on the seas. He pillaged and destroyed wherever he went with no sense of remorse. Alfred couldn’t help but think that that trail of destruction had landed straight into his chest.

“I...I don’t know what I thought, I just...” His blue eyes cast to the ground under their feet. He thought that Arthur liked him, at least a little bit. Of all the horrible things he thought the Brit would do to him, he hadn’t done a single one. He wasn’t the evil pirate he had thought him to be, he would even gamble to say he thought Arthur was nice at certain points, if in his own way.

Now was not one of those times.

The Brit shook his head and laughed quietly. “Don’t ruin a good thing by developing feelings.” He warned, so gentle that it was almost like he was speaking to himself. “Listen, I’ll tell you what. Go get some fresh air. I don’t need you for the moment and it won’t do good for morale if you stand around moping. Just be back before sun down so I know you didn’t get killed.”

Alfred didn’t feel like going out but the drowning pressure he felt by being surrounded by everything that made him think of Arthur was becoming too much. “Yeah...okay.” He relented, leaving Arthur behind in his study and walking towards the docks.

--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

Walking back into town was suddenly both less exciting and a huge relief. He felt his shoulders relax more the farther away he got from the ship but his mind refused to let go of a certain, fiery Brit. He groaned and kept trudging through the sea of people, not really heading anywhere in particular. He still had no money so drinking himself into a stupor wasn’t an option and he wasn't interested in much else at the moment.

Maybe he could simply take a quiet walk through the forest to calm his nerves. He could see them on the other side of town and it surrounded the area in a way that almost made it look peaceful.

He was distracted from his thoughts when he heard some men yelling not too far away. He glanced over and spotted a crowd forming, walking over so he could see what all the fuss was about. He managed to find a spot in the crowd that he could see in and was surprised to see a fight happening in what looked like a makeshift ring. The people around him were cheering them on and placing bets on who they thought would pull through as the winner.

It didn’t take Alfred long to notice that one of the men in the ring was the really tall, blonde pirate from last night. He felt his blood boil at the sight, if he was here then surely that damned Captain Mathias wouldn’t be skulking around too far either.

With one quick movement, the Swede had his opponent on the ground and with a good, few punches to the face, he was out.

“Berwald Oxenstierna wins!” Somewhere an announcer praised the man who stood up, face stern as ever even through all the blood on it.

An obnoxious laugh echoed through the mass of bodies and Alfred suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, gripping him tightly.

“Way to go, Ber! Take the winnings and have yourself a break, big fella.” Mathias cheered beside him so loudly Alfred thought he might burst his eardrums. The Dane pirate then peered over at him, a large smile plastered on his face, but his uncovered eye was anything but innocent. “And you, my good friend, are up!”

Without warning, the spiky-haired blonde shoved Alfred between the crowd of people and onto the soiled dirt of the fighting ring. “You wanted a fight so bad, here’s your chance!”

“Are you insane?” Alfred yelled back after he collected his confused mind, picking himself off the dirt. His hands curled into fists as he glared Mathias down, ignoring the crowd around them for now. “I don’t want to fight!”

“Aw, don’t be like that!” The captain grinned. “Think of all the money you’ll get if you win!”

Alfred was not convinced. “And if I lose?” He asked cautiously.

Mathias’s grin curled wider, almost painful to look at as he started to laugh. “I don’t know, why don’t you ask him?” He pointed and against his better judgement, Alfred’s eyes followed.

He caught sight of the loser of the last fight being dragged away, a trail of crimson blood being drawn on the dirt like some morbid paintbrush. There was no telling if he was dead or just passed out, but with the way his face was beaten in, Alfred wouldn’t be surprised if it were the former.

“Sorry, not interested.” He spat back. He was not about to be roped into his bastard’s schemes. “Unless you’re going to bring your ass down here to fight, it’s no deal.”

He heard several boo’s from the crowd around them and some even called him a coward. Not that he cared much, he was too determined to make Mathias eat his words.

The Dane only laughed again and shook his head. “No, no, not me. But him,” he pointed again, but this time with his thumb to his side where the cute man from last night stood patiently. “He’s going to be your reaper.” He said darkly, silently commanding the shorter male to exit the crowd and face Alfred in the ring.

“Like hell!” Alfred shouted. Despite the other man being shorter and not nearly as large, he knew just how hard he could punch. He could still feel the soreness in his gut from the one he had been given in the bar the night before. He was not clamoring for a reminder. Besides, he didn’t want to fight anyone except Mathias, but the coward was too busy hiding behind his crew men.

“Heh, that’s a real shame. I guess I was right about Kirkland going soft. He really brought a coward like you onto his ship?” Again that annoying laugh filled the air, but this time it was accompanied by others in the group around them. “That’s good to know. A weak crew means a weak captain, and that means I can make good on my little...promise last night.”

Alfred was seeing red, certain his face was flared up in anger. “You dirty bastard, how dare you--” Here he stood again threatening Arthur. As much as Alfred wanted his queen to be by his side, he would rather die than have Mathias’s slimy hands deliver Arthur to him. He went to lunge for the rival captain, but was stopped dead in his tracks by a swift blow to the head.

In his fury he had completely forgotten the other, smaller blonde was there who stopped him before he could get to Mathias. Alfred stumbled backwards but managed to keep his fists raised defensively.

“Sorry about this,” The man said as he stepped in front of him, effectively blocking his path to his captain. “If it’s okay, I’d like to tell you my name. It’s Tino, and you’re Alfred, right?” He had been certain that was the name Arthur yelled.

“Yeah, that’s me. Look, no offense, but I really don’t want to fight you.” Alfred told him blankly, pacing to the side in an attempt to get a better angle on Mathias. He was mirrored, however, and the smaller blonde kept his path blocked. “But I would like to beat the shit out of your captain, so could you move?”

“I can’t. Really, I’m sorry about this.” Tino replied, raising his own fists and stepping forward. “I really hope I don’t kill you on accident.” He heard the Finn say softly just before he came charging at him.

Now that he was more aware, Alfred managed to dodge the punch that was thrown at him. “Stop bullshitting me! If you don’t want to fight me then quit it!” He yelled over the sounds of the crowd’s, their voices loud with blood lust. He dodged another attack and backed off. He didn’t want to fight Tino, the guy didn’t even want to fight him!

“Captain paid a lot of money in bets, so I have to win. You understand.” The smaller man reasoned.

No, Alfred most certainly did not understand! Did these people really get their kicks off watching two people beat each other to death?

He didn’t see a way out of this, he couldn’t run because he was surrounded by onlookers. He had a feeling Tino would chase him down anyway. For a small guy, he sure did pack a hell of a punch. He was obviously much stronger than he looked. Thankfully, Alfred was no stranger to fighting. As the future king, he had been trained tediously both in the strategy of battle and in the physical skills of it. He was not one to be underestimated himself and he would see to it that Mathias learned that.

“Fine.” He growled, seeing no end to this besides beating Tino head on and making a dash for Mathias straight after.

With his mind made up, the prince went for his own attack, resulting in the two of them mixed together in a tangle of limbs. Punches connected and kicks were blown, blood spilling to mix with the crimson already drying on the dirt from the previous match.

“Ah hah! That a boy, Tino! Knock his teeth in!”

One particularly sharp blow to his head left Alfred’s ears ringing but he was still able to make out Mathias’s nosy outbursts. He managed to grab Tino’s wrist when his fist came flying towards him, pulling him roughly and landing his own punch straight into the smaller man’s stomach.

Tino’s knees buckled at the impact, letting out an involuntary wheeze. He would’ve fallen straight for the ground if Alfred hadn’t grabbed him and nearly thrown him across the make-shift ring. He didn’t hesitate to turn around, abandoning his fight with Tino in favor of tackling Mathias instead. The crowd seemed to like this exciting turn of events and only egged him on as he ran for the spiky haired captain.

He still had the dagger, he remembered. It was hilted at his side. His hand reached down to grab it, unsheathing it and gripping it so hard his knuckles grew white in fury. He would make sure to wipe that shit eating grin off of the Dane’s face once and for all.

“Oh! He brought a weapon, he’s playing dirty! He really is a pirate after all!” He heard Mathias yell and the crowd awarded his unfair tactics with bellowing applause.

Only a few steps closer he would have had Mathias in his grasp, but a rough tug on the back of his shirt forced him backwards and onto the ground instead.

“Ugh!” Alfred let out a painful groan at the impact, dropping his dagger to the ground and out of reach. He hardly had enough time to compose himself before a body was on top of him and his breathing was interrupted by a hand around his throat. Then, a fist pulled back and connected, repeatedly smashing into his face.

The pressure of one hand around his throat was not enough to stop his breathing completely, but it made him lightheaded and dazed. Tino was sitting on his chest, raising his free hand over and over to collide with his face. Alfred raised his own hands in an attempt to block some of the punches, but the tightness around his neck proved too distracting. He couldn't think properly like this.

He could feel himself slipping quickly into darkness. He wouldn’t last much longer like this, but failed to have the coordination to stop it with so little air coming through or the stunning blows he was receiving to his head. His eyes grew dim, seeing little more than the blur of Tino’s form pinning him down and the red that covered him, which he could only assume was his own blood.

“No!”

His mind fluttered desperately. He couldn’t let Arthur down like this. He couldn’t let a bastard like Mathias win! But he also couldn’t move, no matter how much as he willed it. He was rapidly losing the strength to even hold his hands out in a feeble attempt to shield himself.

“Get off of him!”

Wait.

That wasn’t his thoughts.

That was someone’s voice.

“You bastard! Get off!”

Alfred let out an audible gasp when his throat was released, rolling to his side and coughing so hard he swore he tasted blood. Or maybe that was just from all the punches he’d been dealt. It took him time to recover, but he was vaguely aware of a body near him, crouching beside him in an almost shielding way.

When he finally looked up, his vision was still somewhat blurred, but he saw the trembling figure of Peter glaring darkly above him. He had his abandoned dagger in his small hands, pointing it threateningly at anyone and everyone who moved.

“Back off! I’ll kill you, don’t test me!” Peter promised, his grip not wavering though Alfred could see the slight shiver in his hands. The boy was terrified.

Alfred wiped some blood from his eyes and looked towards the main source of Peter’s glare.

Tino was standing back, his hands up cautiously and his eyes wide, watching the young boy with careful eyes. It didn’t look so much like the Finn was afraid of Peter, even with the knife Alfred was certain the man could easily get it away from him and take him down. No, it was something else. Tino looked like he was petrified at the idea that he would hurt Peter instead.

There were a few tense moments, the crowd becoming antsy and unfulfilled now that their fight had been interrupted. Still, no one moved except for Alfred as he tried to collect himself.

“Well? What the hell are you waiting for, Tino? Kill him!” Mathias was the first to break the silence.

“W-What?” Tino’s voice cracked in horror. “Mathias, this is a child!”

“He is no child, he is a pirate! And so are you so you better damn act like it!” The Dane countered, the agitation at being talked back to apparent in his voice. “That’s that Spadian bitch’s brother, you couldn’t ask for a better opportunity to finally rid ourselves of that bastard Kirkland.” With Peter dead, Arthur would soon crumble into dust under his boot. His kid brother was his one, true weakness and Mathias knew this well. “You will do as I say, Tino.”

The Finn’s violet eyes begged silently, unable to will himself to move towards the pair in front of him. Alfred was still trying to recover and would be easy enough to finish off, and even though Peter held a knife, it could be easily taken from him and the rest would be history. But he couldn’t do it, not to a kid who had yet to even live. He swallowed and shook his head, knowing very well the price his defiance would get him later.

He practically heard Mathias growl and finally, he stepped into the ring himself. “Fine, I’ll do it myself then. Go back to the ship, that's an order." Tino hesitated but reluctantly averted his eyes and slunk away out of sight. "I’d like to watch the little brat’s eyes go dim anyway.” Mathias grinned, not hesitating despite the fact Peter turned his attention on him instead, brandishing the knife in his direction. It was cute, how the kid was shaking in fear but still tried to act brave. He was going to love watching that facade of courage drown in terror.

“Stay back!” The younger Brit warned loudly, taking a swing at Mathias when he was close enough. Unfortunately, he missed and the captain landed a swift kick to his stomach, forcing him to fly backwards. A painful gasp ruptured from his throat as he was thrown to the dirt.

“Now, now, wait your turn. I’ll get to you soon.” Mathias flashed a toothy grin watching as the younger Kirkland brother curled into himself, his mouth hanging open with agonizing rasps. He reveled in watching it, but knew he needed to ensure Alfred stayed down long enough for him to truly enjoy himself with his rival’s kin.

The prince’s eyes widened as he watched Peter be kicked and wounded. “You bastard!” Alfred managed to gasp out, rolling to his knees and tried to stand up only to be kicked down again.

“Shut the hell up and stay down before you make yourself bleed out. There’s no point in fighting if I don’t get to see you die just because you’re stubborn.” Mathias laughed at him, lifting his foot again and landing more sharp blows to anywhere on Alfred’s body he could reach.

The wheat blonde could do little to stop the attacks on his body, the combination of Tino and Mathias’s blows making him start to slip out of consciousness once more. He tried to grab the captain’s leg as he swung it at him, only to hear him laugh more and shove his face into the dirt with his heel.

“There we go, you won’t be much of a threat now, will you? Be good and don’t bleed out until I get back.” The spiky-haired pirate told him smugly, loving the way Alfred’s head lulled to the side, unable to hold it up anymore.

Then, he turned his attention back to Peter, still writhing a short distance away. Without warning he strolled back over to the teary boy, watching him for a moment before using his foot to roll him onto his back. Their eyes met for only a moment before Mathias slammed his boot onto the younger male’s throat. He held it there, digging into his neck with such force it made Peter wheeze, gasping for any air he could get and grabbing at the leg that trapped him there.

Alfred, somehow, was still able to keep himself awake. His head pounded and his vision was blurry, hardly able to make out any of the bodies that surrounded them. Instead, they pooled together in a mess of colors. But he didn’t need his eyes to tell him Peter was hurting, he could hear his painful choking well enough to know what was happening. “N-No!” He struggled, rolling onto his side again and spitting crimson out of his mouth. “S...Stop!” He managed to get to his knees, but lost balance and fell over to his side once more. But he was stubborn and his will to protect Peter was stronger than any pain he was feeling. Again, he stumbled messily to his knees and dragged his feet forward to stand. He hunched over, holding the ground for support for a few moments before tripping his way forwards in an attempt to get closer to Peter and Mathias. He only made it two steps before his knees gave out under him and he fell once more with a loud grunt.

He heard that fucking laugh again, mocking him as it mixed with Peter’s desperate will to survive.

“Don’t you know when to give up?” He scorned. “Why would you want to save a little freak like this anyway? Huh?” He emphasized his point by digging his heel deeper into Peter’s throat, earning him a gut-wrenching gurgle.

“Stop it!” Alfred nearly screamed it, and he would have if his voice had allowed it after being choked for so long.

Again Mathias’s cackle filled the stiff air, but it had an even more vicious edge to it. It rung of blood-lust and violence.

“Peter!”

A new voice broke through the obnoxious laughter, so shrill and desperately hateful it made Alfred’s catch his already painful breath. His blue eyes widened at the sound, almost fearful to look towards its source. But, he couldn’t help his gaze fall to the side, catching sight of what had to be the most terrifying human being he had ever seen in his life.

Arthur stood there, having made his way through the crowd of people still gathered around them to watch. His green eyes were wide but furious, his brows were furrowed so low it strained his temples. His teeth were bared, lips curling to expose them like a predator wild and blood stained from the hunt. He looked half deranged, like he would rip apart any person who came towards him.

But it wasn’t even this that made Alfred shiver. No, no, there was something else. The wind whipped against his skin, ice cold as it licked his open wounds with little mercy. The sensation made him hiss. The sudden weather change tangled his hair and clothing, drenching more of his blood across the spoiled arena. If he didn’t know better, he thought a tornado might rampage through the crowd and swallow them whole any moment. But no, that wasn’t it. Above him he could hear the thundering sound of the sky clapping dangerously, though no rain fell the peaceful blue turned a dark grey and shadowed them. Even still, as he watched with fear and awe as the sky changed before his very eyes, he noticed in the distance the rocking of the ships at port. They shifted precariously, threatening to tip and crash into the docks at any moment.

He also noticed the fear that struck the faces in the people around them, watching as they gasped and pointed at the sudden changes.

“The gods! They’re angry!” He heard one shriek.

“Oh, sweet divines!” He recalled another voice. “What is it? A hurricane?”

Even Mathias had a spark of terror in his eyes and his foot lifted instinctively off of Peter’s throat, allowing him a sharp gasp of air.

All but one man stood in horror.

Arthur’s seething gaze never left Mathias for a moment, even as his hair and clothing whipped so violently in the wind he thought the smaller man might be whisked away in it like a paper in a storm. But he remained unfazed, planted firmly in the chaos as those around them dispersed in terror.

“Mathias!” The Brit screamed in fury, causing Alfred to flinch. The shaggy-haired captain took a step forward, and it was in that moment that the prince realized. This was not a natural storm.

His mouth fell open as he watched, the wind dancing through Arthur’s already unruly hair, messing it up more and adding to his disturbing image.

This chaos wasn’t happening around Arthur, it was coming from him.

Arthur was the storm.

[plounce]

here is my molly playlist! fair warning: my approach to playlists is not “good for public consumption” but instead “songs i already like that could possibly potentially apply to this character if i focus on these lines only.” there are NINE mountain goats songs on here.

it’s in a vague order of “carefree approach to life,” “gender,” “relationships with yasha & the others,” “thoughts on backstory,” “being glorious and vivacious and kind of self-destructive because of that and the desperate desire to feel and be alive,” and “death.”

annotated tracklist under the cut!

1. cabaret - cabaret

“What good is sitting along in your room? Come hear the music play / Life is a cabaret, old chum / Come to the cabaret!”

“What good's permitting some prophet of doom / To wipe every smile away?”

“Start by admitting from cradle to tomb / It isn't that long a stay / Life is a cabaret, old chum / It's only a cabaret, old chum / And I love a cabaret!”

2. na na na - my chemical romance

“Let's blow an artery / Eat plastic surgery / Keep your apology / Give us more detonation!”

“Oh, let me tell you 'bout the sad man / Shut up and let me see your jazz hands! / Remember when you were a madman, thought you was Batman / And hit the party with a gas can / Kiss me you animal!”

3. dancing through life - wicked

“Dancing through life, skimming the surface, gliding where turf is smooth”

“Dancing through life, no need to tough it when you can slough it off as I do / Nothing matters but knowing nothing matters / It's just life, so keep dancing through”

“Dancing through life, mindless and careless / Make sure you're where less trouble is rife / Woes are fleeting, blows are glancing, when you're dancing through life”

4. we are golden - MIKA

“Teenage dreams in a teenage circus / Running around like a clown on purpose / Who gives a damn about the family you come from / No giving up when you're young and you want some”

“I was a boy at an open door, why you staring? / Do you still think that you know? / Looking for treasure in the things that you threw / Like a magpie, I live for glitter not you”

“Now I'm sitting alone, I'm finally looking around / Left here on my own, I'm gonna hurt myself / Maybe losing my mind, I'm still wondering why / I had to let the world, let it bleed me dry / We are not what you think we are”

gender is fake: 5-7

5. the man - the killers

“They kiss on the ring, I carry the crown / Nothing can break, nothing can break me down / Don't need no advice, I got a plan / I know the direction, the lay of the land / I know the score like the back of my hand”

6. sexy, naughty, bitchy me - tata young

“I'm the kind that your momma and your daddy were afraid you'd turn out to be like”

“I may seem unapproachable but that's only to the boys who don't have the right approach or ride that makes a girl like me wanna hop in and roll”

7. true trans soul rebel - against me!

“All dressed up and nowhere to go / Walking the streets all alone / Another night to wish you could forget / Making yourself up as you go along”

8. nearly witches - panic

9. oh girl you’re the devil - MIKA

“She's a girl with a bag full of hearts and a devil's eyes / Crazy kids in the wild on the run to the county line / Shotgun for a tongue but says just what she likes / Oh, girl you're the devil”

“And I said follow me / Whoever you want to be / Don't care where you where you go / As long as you stay with me”

10. today - john denver

“Today while the blossoms still cling to the vine / I’ll taste your strawberries, I’ll drink your sweet wine / A million tomorrows shall all pass away / ‘Ere I forget all the joys that are mine today”

“Well I’ll be a dandy and I’ll be a rover / You’ll know who I am by the songs that I sing / I’ll feast at your table, I’ll lie in your clover / Who cares what tomorrow may bring?”

“I can’t be contented with yesterday’s glory / I can’t live on promises winter to spring / Today is my moment and now is my story / I’ll laugh and I’ll cry and I’ll sing”

“Well I’m just as restless as wind blowing westward / I can’t stay in any one place for too long / I live for today and I’ll leave you tomorrow / By morning you’ll know I am gone”

11. bulletproof heart - my chemical romance

“Gravity don't mean too much to me / I'm who I've got to be / These pigs are after me, after you / Run away, like it was yesterday / And we could run away, if we could run away / Run away from here”

“Me and your runaway scars got a photograph dream on the getaway mile”

“How can they say / ‘Jenny could you come back home?’ / Because everybody knows you don't ever want to come back / Let me be the one to save you”

“Are you going to be the one to save us from the black and hopeless feeling? / Will you mean it when the end comes reeling? / Hold your heart into this darkness / Will it ever be the light to shine you out or fail and leave you stranded? / I am not going to be the one left standing / You aren't going to be the one left standing / We aren't going to be the ones left standing”

12. lollipop - MIKA

yasha&molly songs: 12 - 15. these are all platonic obviously

13. you told the drunks i knew karate - zoey van goey

14. wonderful wonderful - the killers

“Motherless child, follow my voice, and I shall give thee great cause to rejoice / Motherless child, be of good cheer / My arm is reached out, I am here / I'll crush every doubt and every fear / Clothesline the shame and you will answer to the name: / Wonderful wonderful, wonderful wonderful / Motherless child I am with thee, thou wast never alone”

15. futile devices - sufjan stevens

“And when you play guitar, I listen to the strings buzz / The metal vibrates underneath your fingers / And when you crochet, I feel mesmerized and proud”

“But you are life I needed all along / I think of you as my brother, although that sounds dumb / And words are futile devices”

16. i will - mitski

“I will take good care of you, I will take good care of you”

“And we’re not out of the tunnel / I bet you though there's an end”

17. chasin’ honey - wild party

“Some parts of my brain are probably still sleeping / I wish I could tell but I'm probably still sleeping / I look to the window, I look through your eyes / I can see my reflection but I can't close the blinds / It's like someone's determined to change how I think / But if I just close my eyes I'll wake from each dream”

18. idylls of the king - the mountain goats

“My dreams are haunted by armies, armies of ghosts / Faces too blurry to make out / Numbers far too high to measure”

“Your eyes, twin volcanoes / Bad ideas dancing around in there / All of them, all of them, all lined up”

19. bury me face down - grandson

“When I go into the ground, I won't go quietly, I'm bringin' my crown”

“I've been counted out, left for dead / Wanted with a bounty on my head / But somehow, someway, I'm-a keep movin' along, movin' along”

20. survival - ajj

“And I gave a beer to a bum that was drinking / And I gave some sauce to my bestest friend for cooking / And I gave water to all I thought were thirsty / And that's how I learned how to survive”

“And I fed false information to the audience”

“I just handed you a giant load of gibberish / And I give love to a lover quite deserving of it / And I give thanks to all of you for listening / To the story of how I learned how to survive”

21. color in your cheeks - the mountain goats

“Come on in / We haven't slept for weeks / Drink some of this / It'll put color in your cheeks”

“They came in by the dozens / Walking or crawling /  Some were bright-eyed, some were dead on their feet / ... / But they came, and when they finally made it here / It was the least that we could do to make our welcome clear”

22. mercury - planetarium

“Carrier, friend - where do you run to?”

running from the past: 23-28

23. same old blues - phantogram

“I keep on having this dream / Where I'm stuck in a hole and I can't get out / There's always something that's pulling me down, down, down”

“Today, I lost my future to the past /... / Never getting far away enough / Like a shadow on the sidewalk, I can't shake it off / You can never change my mind”

24. thank you for the venom - my chemical romance

“I wouldn't front the scene if you paid me / I'm just the way that the doctor made me, on / And on, and on, and on / Love is the red the rose on your coffin door / What's life like, bleeding on the floor?”

“You’ll never make me leave / I wear this on my sleeve / You want to follow something / Give me a better cause to lead”

25. rio - MIKA

“The book has long been written, but I'd rather be just about anyone else but me, I hope you see / It doesn't mean I'm not a fighter, it's just that I wanna be a little lighter”

“Maybe I'll be myself when I'm somebody else”

“Anything you can lose I can lose better / Do my best with what life gave to me”

26. kill all your friends - my chemical romance

“And you can sleep in a coffin, but the past ain't through with you”

“Cause we are all a bunch of liars / Tell me, baby, who do you wanna be? And we are all about to sell it 'cause it's tragic with a capital 'T' / Let it be, let it be, let it be!”

“Cause we all wanna party when the funeral ends / And we all get together when we bury our friends”

“You'll never take me alive, you'll never get me alive / Do what it takes to survive, and I'm still here!”

27. how to embrace a swamp creature - the mountain goats

“Got out of bed, could not remember my own name"

“I stand where the flashing swords gleam / And I try to shake my head clear of the dream”

28. we don’t want your body - stars

“I've watched you take your make-up off / Your face grows hard, your eyes grow soft”

“Sleep now and dream of who you'll be / When you finally become someone”

29. nobody - mitski

“And I don't want your pity, I just want somebody near me / Guess I'm a coward, I just want to feel alright / And I know no one will save me, I just need someone to kiss / Give me one good honest kiss, and I'll be alright”

30. never quite free - the mountain goats

“It's okay to find the faith to saunter forward / With no fear of shadows spreading where you stand / And you'll breathe easier just knowing that the worst is all behind you / And the waves that tossed the raft all night / Have set you on dry land”

“It's so good to learn that from right here the view goes on forever / And you'll never want for comfort, and you'll never be alone / See the sunset turning red, let all be quiet in your head / And look about—all the stars are coming out / They shine like steel swords / Wish me well where I go / But when you see me, you'll know”

31. amy aka spent gladiator 1 - the mountain goats

“Do every stupid thing that makes you feel alive / Do every stupid thing to try to drive the dark away / Let people call you crazy for the choices that you make / Climb limits past the limits / Jump in front of trains all day / And stay alive”

“Play with matches if you think you need to play with matches / Seek out the hidden places where the fire burns hot and bright / Find where the heat's unbearable and stay there if you have to / Don't hurt anybody on your way up to the light”

“People might laugh at your tattoos / When they do get new ones in completely garish hues”

“Make up magic spells, wear them like protective shells”

32. townie - mitski

“And I want a love that falls as fast as a body from the balcony, and / I want to kiss like my heart is hitting the ground / I'm holding my breath with a baseball bat, though I don't know what I'm waiting for / I am not gonna be what my daddy wants me to be”

33. cry for judas - the mountain goats

“Speed up to the precipice and then slam on the brakes / Some people crash two or three times and then learn from their mistakes / But we are the ones who don't slow down at all / And there's nobody there to catch us when we fall”

“... Can't learn how to behave / Still won't know how in the darkness of the grave / Long black night, morning frost / I'm still here, but all is lost”

death

34. save yourself, i’ll hold them back - my chemical romance

“I hope you're ready for a firefight / 'Cause the devil's got your number tonight / (They say!) ‘We're never leaving this place alive’ / But if you sing these words, we'll never die!”

“Get off the ledge and drop the knife / Not a victim of a victim's life / (Because!) This ain't a room full of suicides / We're believers, I believe tonight”

“I'll tell you all how the story ends / Where the good guys die and the bad guys win / (Who cares?) This ain't about all the friends you made / But the graffiti they write on your grave”

“So just save yourself, and I'll hold them back tonight!”

35. hebrews 11:40 - the mountain goats

“No ground is ever gonna hold me / ... / Bodies reassembling down where the worms crawl / Make your own friends when the world's gone cold”

“It gets dark and then / I feel certain I am going to rise again / If not by faith then by the sword / I'm going to be restored”

“Blood calls to blood as the hours draw down / Invent my own family if it comes to that / Hold them close, hold them near / Tell them no one's ever going to hurt them here”

“Steal the treasure and try to leave town / Fight my way back down, don't want to hurt anyone / Probably gonna have to before it's all done”

“Take to the hills, run away / I'm gonna get my perfect body back someday”

36. dead! - my chemical romance

“And if your heart stops beating, I'll be here wondering / Did you get what you deserve? / The ending of your life / And if you get to heaven, I'll be here waiting, babe / Did you get what you deserve?”

“So long, 'cause now you've got / Maybe just two weeks to live / Is that the most the both of you can give?”

37. the spine song - cake bake betty

“On your birthday you woke up / The snow was on the ground"

“You will steal all the smells / That cut through your nose and excite all your cells / When it's time to escape / You realize you've waited until it's too late”

“You pleaded, ‘Oh, kind sir, please let me say goodbye’ / Your soul ripped from your stomach / You gave an awful cry”

“And when I have died, will you use my spine to swing from tree to tree in search of places pleasing to the eye?”

38. back pack - ajj

“You were dead by the time that I had found you / Your blood was spilled on the couch where we had first kissed / So I carried you West to the sea, so I could wash you / Your body felt just like a backpack”

“You lived large till the day they finally caught you”

“And I wanna build a tower to all the nicer things you could have been / But I don’t like it”

39. fourth of july - sufjan stevens

“The evil, it spread like a fever ahead / It was night when you died, my firefly / What could I have said to raise you from the dead? / Oh, could I be the sky on the Fourth of July?”

“Sitting at the bed with the halo at your head / Was it all a disguise, like Junior High? / Where everything was fiction, future, and prediction”

"Did you get enough love, my little dove? / Why do you cry? / And I’m sorry I left, but it was for the best / Though it never felt right / My little Versailles."

“The hospital asked should the body be cast / Before I say goodbye, my star in the sky / Such a funny thought to wrap you up in cloth / Do you find it all right, my dragonfly?”

"Shall we look at the moon, my little loon? / Why do you cry? / Make the most of your life, while it is rife / While it is light”

40. the coroner’s gambit - the mountain goats

“When death came calling today / I heard the gentle grace of his cadences / And I couldn’t say no, I couldn’t say no”

“When he showed me his new silk scarves / Laid out on a shiny black plastic tray / Couldn’t say, couldn’t say, couldn’t say no”

“And I'm sorry I couldn't / Do you know how badly I wanted to? / Didn't want, didn't want, didn't want to lose you”

“But his smile was dazzling / And his eyes were sparkling / Like moonlight on the water at midnight”

41. wallowa lake monster - sufjan stevens

“Spathiphyllum on his grave / And like the cedar waxwing, she was drunk all day / We put her in the sheet, little wreath, candles on the crate / As the monster showed its face”

“As she waits for her children in the shade / Demogorgon or demigod, the ghost parade / No oblation will bring her back to our place”

42. the last song ever written - stars

“This is the last time that there'll be a last time / You'll wake up to the day without it / This is the last time that you're gonna lose someone / After this, it's you and your friends / It's you and your friends”

“We didn't know we knew you 'til we lost you / You tried to leave us all alone, we wish you had failed”

43. best friend - ajj

“Everything makes me bleed / The sparkle won't shine if you don't feed it light / Balls deep in reality / I spend all my time getting strung out on life”

“Your dead best friend is walking up the stairs / He's walking up the stairs with you”

“What is the wind saying? Does it tell who isn't there? / Do the spirits haunt us by blowing through our hair?”

44. dead hearts - stars

“Tell me everything that happened / Tell me everything you saw / They had lights inside their eyes”

“Did you see the closing window? / Did you hear the slamming door? / They moved forward, my heart died”

“Please, please tell me what they look like / Did they seem afraid of you? / They were kids that I once knew”