#my story is not biblically correct at all

[snowybluewolfig]

Me trying to write a story with angels and demons in it:

So this fallen angel is trying to cause a war between heaven and hell—

My dad:

Read the bible.

Me:

This is not based on the bible.

My dad:

Research.

Me:

Okay.

[calmariah]

Using Canto VII to Predict Dante's Identity

This theory now has a second part! Please read it HERE!

(major spoilers for the games 'Library of Ruina' and 'Limbus Company' up to Canto VII Part 2 under the cut! you have been warned!)

(EXTREMELY long post ahead!)

SECTION 0: PROLOGUE

Dante. The tenth sinner of LCB. Our Executive Manager Esquire.

Despite being our story's protagonist, Dante's identity and past is a gaping void.

It's very interesting when a story has a character with amnesia, because we all get to make wild guesses at their true secret identity.

I've seen a few predictions. Ayin, Roland, that one random Seven Association Fixer from Library of Ruina of the same name.

The Vermillion Cross, even. The colours line up, as does the Cross carrying their weapon on their back. Biblical imagery makes a lot of sense here.

The character I'm about to accuse of being Clockhead however, is a candidate I have seen no person put forth.

Indulge me for a moment and assume that Dante's identity is possible to reasonably guess at all. That they are a character we have become acquainted with in prior Project Moon works, or indeed the content of Limbus Company itself.

As of writing, the most recent update to Limbus Company is Canto VII Part 2. This theory will assume that you have played or otherwise experienced its story content to completion.

This is because I believe VII-2 has finally delivered us the information we need to make that reasonable guess.

For now though, let's cast our minds much, much further back.

SECTION 1: LIBRARIAN OF DEATH

Curtain call for the Reception of the Black Silence.

Roland lies defeated, and the player is given a choice.

Choosing forgiveness leads to the true, canonical ending of the game. According to Steam achievement statistics, only 10.1% of the player base chose to take Roland's head instead.

If Roland is slain, Angela uses the light of the Library to complete her dream of becoming human.

The Patron Librarians are killed, turned back into books. Angela stands alone atop her ivory nest.

No longer an Impurity, the Library is free to violently expand as a Star of the City.

It would remain that way for thirteen years.

After a fade to black, we meet a new character. One who, at the time, had no name.

???: That was one grand job you did with all these dangerous monsters you've gathered, Miss Librarian of Death.

ANGELA: …Good work.

???: “A monster should behave as one…”

???: I trusted and followed you, knowing nothing.

ANGELA: How many colleagues of yours… the so-called ‘Bookhunters’ have you killed?

???: I’ve lost count.

ANGELA: And countless more people will die in the future.

ANGELA: I know humans. I learned the secrets of mankind that the City had been hiding from them.

???: I’m sure you do… And I know you.

???: Thank you for all your hard work. Please die once and for all.

ANGELA: Thank you for putting me to rest, o child who had no name.

???: Even the brightest star fades someday.

???: It will eventually be felled by man, just like any other star.

???: As tonight, again, the stars

are brushed by the wind.

"The Bookhunter" was the only name we had for this character for a very long time. But you may know them by another name.

Perhaps that name is Bari, the Knight of the White Moon.

Or perhaps that name is Dante.

SECTION 2: PRINCESS BARI

It's extremely common for important characters in Project Moon's universe to share their names with figures in stories, mythology or religion.

Roland of the 12 Paladins of Charlemagne. Emil Sinclair from Demian. Moses, after a prophet in Judaism, Christianity, and a smattering of Abrahamic religions.

I have reason to believe Bari is no exception. I'm not particularly well read on the following subject, so I encourage you to do your own research. Apologies if I make any mistakes, and please correct them if you can.

However, I will lay out the basics here that support my theory.

Princess Bari is an incredibly important figure in Korean mythology and spirituality. Born as the seventh daughter to royals who wanted a son, Bari is banished to fend for herself outside of the walls of her family's kingdom.

There are many different versions and tellings of the story, but most share the central story structure. When Bari's parents fall ill, they learn (through dream, premonition, or any number of reasons) that the cure to what ails them is a water or elixir in a far away divine or spiritual realm.

Learning of her parents' illness, Bari sets off on a journey to cross the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead to find the cure.

When she reaches this divine realm, Bari collects water of life and flowers of resurrection, and returns home.

She learns that she is much too late however, as her parents have passed away and their bodies will soon be buried.

Bari attempts to heal them anyway-- and the flowers she found restore her parents back to their mortal coil, and the water of life cures their ails.

In some versions of the myth, Bari ascends and becomes a goddess after her death. Typically, she is a goddess of the divine realm, and/or a goddess who leads the deceased to the afterlife.

Back to Limbus Company for a moment, Bari tells Sancho the following when they finally introduce themself at the bank of the River of Oblivion.

(I understand that this is Sansón's telling of events. Since he seems to be attempting to accurately restore Sancho's memories, we can assume at least this much is accurate.)

Searching for a flower grown in water.

I believe there is enough evidence to believe that Bari is based on the mythological princess.

SECTION 3: INTRO WRAP UP

There are four figures to consider from here on out; two versions of each character.

Dante Limbus Company, bumbling executive manager.

Dante Alighieri, legendary Italian poet who features in his Divine Comedy.

Bari Project Moon, Knight of the White Moon and in another time, Bookhunter.

Princess Bari, mythological shaman who crossed between the worlds of life and death to save her family from death.

It's important to keep the distinction between these figures in mind. Adaptation does not need to be 100% faithful. Just because something happened to Princess Bari does not mean it happened or will happen to our Bari.

That said, looking to the original stories can be helpful to understand themes that appear in Bari and Dante's stories, and the ways they might overlap.

Following so far? I really hope so.

That should be all the setup we need now.

We have our two characters, Dante and Bari. Let us now consider the themes they share, to see if they may be the same character.

Each of these examples, considered alone, may appear unconvincing or coincidental. But I think the sheer amount of common links you can draw between Dante and Bari make it impossible to say them being the same character is baseless.

So, allow me. I believe the primary themes we must look at are:

KATABASIS

TIME

RESURRECTION

LITERATURE

THE SAPLING OF LIGHT

Let's tackle these one at a time.

SECTION 4: KATABASIS

Katabasis is a word referring to a journey into the underworld, a reoccurring motif seen in countless mythologies or works of literature.

Katabasis is a very interesting theme here, because it can actually be seen in ALL FOUR versions of the characters we have.

Dante (Divine Comedy) is obvious and simple. Dante and Virgil's descent into Inferno is one of the most famous examples of a katabasis.

Dante (Limbus Company) is similar. They are aboard a hell bus driven by someone named Charon, and the chapter of their story we're currently in is called Inferno.

While not a literal journey into the underworld, it is undeniably, thematically, a quest into Hell. Counts!

Princess Bari journeys across the boundaries of life and death to get the water and flowers of resurrection. Entering the divine realm of death? That's a katabasis!

And the knight Bari is the one that maybe seems the most out of place. But I think this line from Sansón's play might help us understand where they fit in.

Bari's search for the river that grows the flower they seek is leading them deep into the abyss under the Ruins.

They're already a wanderer, someone who travels far across the City and the Ruins. It could be said that they were already on a journey very similar to Dante's.

It's another case where the journey is symbolic-- looking for an object far beneath the crust of the earth, travelling across a hellscape to find it.

Oh dear, that reminds me of someone already.

SECTION 5: TIME

Dante's associations with time are obvious. They have a clock for a head, slowed down time in Canto 6, and are somehow able to 'rewind' the sinners back to life.

They have also been having strange visions where they glimpse the past of the sinners.

That last part is what interests me. Because these quick, unclear glimpses through time remind me of a certain river.

The Mirae-mirae River, which Bari encourages their companion to look into.

And Sancho does.

For Bari to understand how the Mirae-mirae River works, they would need to have looked into it themself.

Potentially, they even sipped from it, though I have no evidence. I simply find it strange that Bari would know the risks of drinking the river water, yet not the river's name.

If they had some other source of information to learn this, wouldn't it have included a name? Who can say? It doesn't actually matter.

What matters is the fact that Bari could see the future. If not by drinking, by looking into the water surface.

This goes a long way to explain this bizarre part of Sansón's stageplay earlier.

Bari arrives to entertain the lonely king with stories, and seemingly two of the stories they tell are the events of Canto V and Canto VI.

Assuming that the Mirae-mirae River shows you visions in YOUR future, not just any random person's, then for this vision to make sense, Bari needs to witness Canto V and Canto VI in the future.

It's my understanding that they might've seen their own participation in those stories as Dante.

"A hero's perilous encounter with an unyielding monster" could potentially be describing Canto III, with Sinclair vs. Peccatula Kromer, but that one's a bit too vague to be helpful.

It's not hard and fast evidence, and might just be an innocent bit of narrative rhyming. "Golly gee, isn't it fun that the stories Bari told were coincidentally similar to the adventure we are on?" Maybe.

Regardless, we have a character who is seeing glimpses of the past in Dante, and a character who can see glimpses of the future in Bari. I find that an interesting thematic connection.

SECTION 6: RESURRECTION

Now this one's a bit more promising. Being able to bring the sinners back from death and mortal injury is arguably the most notable of Dante's abilities.

Princess Bari's katabasis led her to claiming the flowers that allowed her to perform a miracle of resurrection, and she herself became a goddess of life after death following her own passing.

Both are figures capable of resurrection.

Though, that's the obvious part. I'd like to instead speak of Dante's personal death and resurrection. Because it could be said that Dante has died before.

Standing over the bank of the Lethe, Bari shared their concerns with their confidant.

To lose your memories of the life you have lived is much like death.

When the clock replaced Dante's head, their memories quickly washed away into oblivion.

Assume for me they were Bari. Bari died here, and "Dante" woke up in their place.

As Executive Manager, Dante leads the sinners through Inferno, as seen below.

(Thank you Limbus Company .gg wiki for sourcing the text here! I did not want to have to refight GasHarpoon just for a tiny part of this post...)

ISHMAEL: Before I saw that recruitment post... after I boarded the Pequod… even after I joined Limbus Company… I've never taken the helm of my own ship.

ISHMAEL: But… I think I've finally found my compass.

AHAB: Does a mere deckhand dare speak of her own compass now?

ISHMAEL: Yeah. An incredibly annoying compass that keeps getting in my way. But… they're also a compass that, even as they waver, points to where I want to go…

ISHMAEL: So I want to go on an adventure with that compass. A real adventure. To explore and learn this world we live in.

And it's not just Ishmael, either. After Heathcliff's distortion ended, he said the following.

HEATHCLIFF: Oi, Clockhead.

HEATHCLIFF: You wouldn't know this, but... Well, everyone but you would know.

HEATHCLIFF: When I'm starting to lose my mind, when I'm completely blinded and deafened…

HEATHCLIFF: When I feel my sense of self, my very being, slowly fading away into the dark…

HEATHCLIFF: … I hear that faint noise.

HEATHCLIFF: That damned noise of a clock.

HEATHCLIFF: It opens my eyes. Drags me back to reality.

DANTE: Well, that's…

DANTE: Because I'm your manager. Bringing you back to your paths is what I do.

Despite being lost in oblivion-- again, akin to death-- Dante guides their sinners along their correct paths.

Please recall what became of Princess Bari after her death.

A goddess of the divine realm who guided wayward souls through the afterlife.

From Inferno to Paradiso, perhaps.

(Huh. Maybe 'guidance' would've been a better name for this section. By this logic, maybe Bari is Vergilius.....!!.)

SECTION 7: LITERATURE

This one's quite interesting to me.

Other than being named for a poet, Dante has very little association with actual literature. They write notes on their little PDA device, but that's about it as far as I understand.

Bari however has incredible association with literature!

Most obviously with how they regaled (a person who I am comfortable assuming is) the original Don Quixote with tales of adventure and excitement.

Assuming I'm correct about some of their stories coming from the Mirae-mirae River, they would've had to pen some of those tales themself, drawing from what they saw.

In another time they were a person known as a Bookhunter, and personally responsible for executing a library's director.

When they do so, Bari says the following to the dead air.

BARI: As tonight, again, the stars

are brushed by the wind.

The line break is unusual for how Library of Ruina formats narration or dialogue, and it brings to mind poetry. One last short stanza for a dead woman, perhaps.

Literature is a motif associated with extremely important or powerful characters in Project Moon media, such as Angela. The second game took place in a god damn library!

Dante is named after a poet. Bari was a storyteller. I think this can't NOT be important.

Bari = Vergilius theory gains merit...

SECTION 8: THE SAPLING OF LIGHT

As part of Sansón's stageplay, Bari says the following.

BARI (SINCLAIR): It is said that when an efflorescent tree comes to blossom, steeped and nurtured in the waters of many rivers since its saplinghood, it becomes imbued with a special power.

BARI (SINCLAIR): I can't even begin to imagine what powers a tree born from that particular river may hold.

I think it's possible that the river Bari seeks is the river of human consciousness that Lobotomy Corporation Facility X-394 was built over-- and thus the river that the Library was built over as well.

Dante's Sapling of Light abilities correspond with the Sephirot of the Seed of Light project, meaning it's extremely likely they share an origin.

This is hardly breaking news, but the arrangement of the Sephirot and their departments in Lobotomy Corporation form the inverted version of the Kabbalistic Tree of Life, forming instead the Tree of Death.

Dante's Sapling of Light ability menu shows Hokma at the top of the diagram, where as Malkuth was at the top in Lobotomy Corporation.

As Dante unlocks more abilities, we should see the Tree of Life form from each of these connections, this time healthy and upright.

It's possible that Bari's goal was to create that Tree of Life. Find the river that the Tree of Death-- the Library-- grew from, and nurture a healthy sapling in its waters again. One untainted by Angela's ambition.

(It's possible that Bari seeking the river predates the Seed of Light project. I don't think this changes much-- Bari would still be seeking to create what would end up being Dante's Sapling of Light.)

At the very least, this would establish a connection between Bari and the sapling inside of Dante's clock. I don't think it should be ignored.

SECTION 9: LIGHTNING ROUND

Phew. That's a lot of talking! I've established the main points that I feel tie a deep thematic link between Bari and our esteemed manager, even if I haven't proven necessarily that they are the same character.

However, I believe that if we're intended to guess Dante's identity before the reveal, Bari is pretty much the only coherent option.

It wouldn't be much of a twist if I could figure out all the who what when wheres and whys before it happens, I suppose!

One last section for the road. Here's a bunch of stuff that I noticed that probably doesn't matter, but might serve as tertiary evidence for this theory.

STARS:

Stars are a motif that came up a lot for Dante towards the start of the game, in the prologue and Canto 1. Here's some examples.

PANTHER: It's a shame-- I wanted to have a look at your face. I reckon you won't tell us where your star is, right?

DANTE: Like hell I am. I'm taking ■■■'s location to the grave with...

FAUST: You've lost your way in a dark forest.

DANTE: I'm... sorry, what?

FAUST: Yet you were not overcome with fear. Why was that?

DANTE: That's...

DANTE: I could simply... lift my head to find the star.

FAUST: That's right.

FAUST: Now, repeat with the heart what I tell you aloud as you remind yourself of that image.

FAUST: Follow your star.

DANTE: Follow... your star.

It's currently unclear what Dante's star is, and I will make no attempt to figure out what it could be here. Stars are undeniably a motif of theirs, is my point here.

Bari is the one to behead the Library as it exists as a Star of the City in the Librarian of Death ending, and muses on the nature of stars going out in that vaguely poetic nature as the game fades to black.

JUST KIND OF THE WAY THEY HOLD THEMSELVES:

That title's pretty flippant, but this is, in my opinion, one of the BETTER pieces of evidence!

Take a look at these two sprites for me.

The Knight of the White Moon! Hardly raring for battle. Their left hand tucked into their coat pocket, their right arm resting lazily on the scabbard of their sword.

Let's look at Dante's conversation sprite from some of the earlier cantos...

Oh my.

Well, that's not the only position we see Bari standing in. Let's look at that blurry CG from the end of Part 2. Unblurred, of course.

You have to admit, it feels at least a LITTLE bit deliberate!

They also both wear long, coloured coats with full black clothing underneath-- but I will readily admit that "long coat/suit with monocoloured shirt under it" describes 90% of the characters in this game.

PRONOUNS:

Both Dante and Bari have been consistently referred to with they/them pronouns, contrary to what some select few Limbus fans on Reddit would rather you believe.

I personally don't subscribe to the whole "the reason why Dante uses they/them pronouns is because they're intended to be a self-insert character for you, the player!"

I think Dante is a HELPFUL player insert-- for those who have not played Lobotomy Corporation or Library of Ruina. Their unfamiliarity with the City, its people and its customs is an excellent way to ease a new player into the world of Project Moon.

That does NOT mean that Dante IS the player, however. Dante has many characteristics of their own and is no more a reflection of the player than any other character.

It is entirely possible that Dante and Bari both using neutral pronouns is currently just an obfuscation to hide Dante's identity and Bari's general entire thing from the player for the time being.

If that is the case, and we find out they're both men or something... Egg on my face, I suppose.

Either way, it's a characteristic both of them share. Add it to the pile.

(Though if they both turn out to be non-binary or women, I will derive a little bit of O-05-76 from all the he/him Dante defaulters...)

(Thank you the-spoonicorn for the correction! In 7-35, Sancho says the following to Don Quixote.)

SANCHO: Will she be coming today? Again?

(Bari, at the very least, is confirmed to be a woman. This does not disprove that she could be Dante, though it does kneecap the shared motif of having a neutral or obscured gender identity.)

(Thank you again!)

BARI-DEGI:

It's my understanding that the mythological Princess Bari's name derives from Bari-degi, which can mean 'abandoned child' or 'thrown away thing' in Korean.

This is because she was abandoned by her family for being the seventh daughter born to them.

With Bari cautioning Sancho about drinking from the River of Oblivion, it feels strange to suggest they would've willingly cooperated with a plan that would've resulted in the erasure of their own self and memories. It disquieted them enough before.

This isn't me saying it hurts the theory-- I actually think it IMPROVES it.

It would be dramatic and also fulfils part of the original myth regarding Princess Bari, and makes Bari's name a fun self-fulfilling prophecy.

If they craved the power of resurrection so much that they would take their own memories, despite cautioning Sancho against it. That they would throw their old name away, as Princess Bari was thrown away by her family.

It symbolizes both Princess Bari dying after a natural life, and her crossing into the realm of the dead in the first place.

In that dark forest, Bari would've taken a katabasis-- died and crossed into the realm of the dead. And they immediately began an adventure through that Inferno as Dante.

(Side note, perhaps if the Sapling inside of Dante's head was also watered by the River of Oblivion... could that be why Dante's memories are missing?)

Well, I'm not here to prove that.

I'm also not here to prove Bari is Dante. I just want you to think about it!

SECTION 10: IN CONCLUSION, IT WOULD BE PRETTY COOL:

And wouldn't it!? Dante's true identity is a mystery that's been hanging over us for such a long time. If we find out that we've had canonical pre-amnesia Dante dialogue since Canto 7-- hell, since LIBRARY OF RUINA, that'd be incredible!

I think it makes perfect sense that if Bari is pre-amnesia Dante, they appeared in one of Library of Ruina's bad endings. It's an obscure ending to a long and difficult game, and we know that Project Moon plan these projects far in advance.

Why not tease the protagonist of your third game, but hide it under everyone's noses!?

Why not make the protagonist of your universe where everyone's named after stories or folklore a poet and storyteller!?

And why not base that character in an important spiritual Korean myth!?

Gaaagh. At the end of the day, we can't know for sure, and I haven't proven anything. But thank you for coming on this journey with me.

It's a shame that the most we can see of Bari's capabilities and attitude is in the paper fight where they're wearing a helmet and they're so stylised.

If only we could just take that helmet off and

holy SHIT

[weebsinstash]

Kinda obsessed with the idea of a reader pregnant with Lucifer's kid and just he's really into it and wants to get married while the readers there being like damn I just wanted the bragging rights of saying I fucked the king of hell and now I have to be married to him !?!

Reader: ugh oh my god that dick was so fucking good, thanks Lucifer

Lucifer, currently painting sigils with his own blood on your tummy: oh my god, no, I know, right, it was amazing, I had an amazing time

Reader: hey uhhhhhhh by the way, what are you

Lucifer, taking a break from speaking ancient Latin incantations: oh hey, no don't worry about it it's totally cool I'm just, doing a thing here

Reader watching the very foundation of Hell shake around them like an earthquake as all the candles in the room burn higher and the unseen spirits of the damned sing comgratulatory praises for their dark lord: you know this kiiiiiiiiinda feels like you miiiiiight be doing something kinda sinister and magic-y right now

Lucifer, watching his symbol appear on your belly: whaaaaaaaaat, no, that's crazy! It's just a little.... surprise! Nothing to worry about! So hey also completely unrelated but I kind of need to splash some of this goat's blood on you--

I feel like sleeping or even FLIRTING with Lucifer is the ultimate case of fuck around and find out because at the very least you have an all powerful clingy depressed obsessive boyfriend in THE DEVIL and at his very worst you have you know THE DEVIL, treating you as his equal half, wanting all to bow before you, worship you, erecting churches with stained glass telling the Epic Tale of how you two fell in love, wanting you draped in fineries, at his side at all times, having only the best

I just feel like... he's one of those yandere that really could take you 0 to 100. You fuck the guy ONCE as like a drunken one night stand, a real "fuck it why not maybe it'll be fun" kinda romp, and then he's making plans behind your back about marriage because, well, he just loves you so much already that he can't see doing anything else! 🥰 like can you imagine going from getting cream pied to like only a week later some church is getting constructing with like biblical art of "oh how the king of hell met another and fell in love" and it's foretelling some epic saga that hasn't even. Happened yet. Like imagine the whiplash of finding out the guy you casually fucked is dedicating buildings to. A story of. How he impregnated and married you and you guys "lived happily ever after" and you still barely know him

I like the contrasting options of Lucifer intentionally impregnating you vs unintentionally because THE VISUAL of like. He's just nutted and you're laying there amd he looks down and suddenly there's this little glowing moving picture on your skin of a snake twining around, circling, becoming an apple with a heart or some-- this is a real specific genre of fetish I'm discussing here ok we don't need to like exactly describe whatever magical mark of pregnancy the devil gives you fjdnfjf. But the apple appears and he's blinking at it and, finally, it clicks, and he's all "BABY! B-BABY! IT'S A BABY HHHOHHHHH MY GOD" and he's like EXCITED but also just like. Do you think he'd get a little biblical drooling about 'your womb being blessed' or some shit. Your absolute fucking LUCK OR LACK THEFEOF if Lucifer turned out to ACCIDENTALLY BE CORRECT and you kind of WERE created to be his wife or end up with him, like GOD is up there, "yeah Luci I threw you a bone, enjoy it 👍" like SHIT the one time you ARE cosmically fated to have a mate and it's AFTER YOU DIE? It's also LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR???

I feel like, genuinely the only way Lucifer would mistreat the Reader is completely unintentionally, like he has a bout of depression and neglects you a little, or he becomes socially withdrawn and you think he doesn't like you but really he's just feeling sad or working on something that's really important to him. I mean. This is BESIDES the possibility of confinement but that's for your protection and it's not like you're in PRISON. This guy is clearly packed with goofy loving positive energy. He'll be taking you to the circus and to musicals with his daughter like you've always been a member of the family, getting you your own special throne to sit beside his own. He's having audience with like some wretched soul, there are flames, he's being TERRIFYING, telling them how they've betrayed him and he's going to tear their soul to pieces and sentencs them to eternal suffering, and then he turns to you, "I'm sorry am I making it too hot in here shnookums 🥰 I don't wanna make you and our lil hellion uncomfy 🥰" like.... truly, you got yourself a man that can do both

[beaniegaebie]

i don't really have any solid conclusions about this yet but i noticed A Thing in a rewatch and i haven't found it mentioned elsewhere yet so here we go

(apologies for the appalling image quality you're about to see, i can't screenshot easily rn pls bear with)

OKAY so in the scene where crowley confronts gabriel about "shut up and die", something about the arrangement of book stacks caught my eye a little

the majority of the books are angled so that we mostly just see the page edges and not the spines clearly, EXCEPT for a particularly shiny and familiar colour combo right here-

but nothing too weird going on there, i thought, crowley coloured books in a bookshop so what? right up until i registered crowley's line when we get a closer look-

hhhhmmmmMMmmmm yes yes "everything just the way you wanted" huh, very interesting considering that we know how much thought goes into props huh

and for most of the shots we get of crowley in this position those freaking books are just quietly nestled right there in the corner-

look at that god damn framing i fuckin see you, you glorious bastards

so i paused to see if i could figure out what the hell was up with those fuckers and this is when i absolutely lost my mind, your honour

A and C you say?? in crowley colours???? framed like this?????? localised entirely within your kitchen???

anyway long story short they're two books from an Agatha Christie Crime Collection set (24 volumes, three stories per volume) and guess whats on the mfing front covers I'm-

(its a rant for another post but when paired with this other set of initials spotted in s2 i want to scream actually)

ANYWAY back to the books, through an absolutely unhinged comparison of the formatting of gold text blobs i reckon the two we have here are:

(on top) The Pale Horse; The Big Four, The Secret Adversary

(on bottom) 4:50 From Paddington, Lord Edgeware Dies, Murder in Mesopotamia

(I'm fairly confident but if anyone has a better image to confirm/correct this pls do)

now here is where I'll need a bunch of help from some Christie-heads out there bc I haven't read any of these and I've only seen the tv adaptation of one of them, so i dont know for sure if these are like A Clue, or A Cool Thing, or if I've just fully brainrotted myself into a fun lil corner here? wa-hoo

but here's some initial stuff that jumped out at me after skimming the basics:

(some of) the titles: Pale Horse/Big Four - death's horse ofc, the four horsemen mayb? the them+adam?? ; Mesopotamia is a very biblical choice bbz ; 4:50 From Paddington- azi likes trains i guess? idk that one's tenuous lmao ; honestly no idea with the other two but Secret Adversary feels a tad ominous

iirc Big Four just has kind of an unusual history, it was initially twelve short stories that she later compiled into one, and it was published fairly soon after christie's mysterious disappearance/reappearance

in Big Four, poirot fakes his death at one point and doesnt even let hastings in on it and I'm hoping sure its totally irrelevant to the ineffable bois

part of the Pale Horse story is a group of assassins that basically try to pass off all their murders as being actually caused by like ✨satanic powers✨ which is interesting

christie knew a fUCkton about poisonings thats why she wrote so many into her work and, while i don't believe the poison coffee theory myself, it sure is an interesting link with how cyanide is associated with almond smell/flavour and that metatron chooses almond syrup in particular

(ALSO random side note that is mostly meaningless but I've worked in a good few uk coffee shops and have never worked anywhere that stocks almond syrup; almond milk yes, hazelnut syrup yes, but never almond syrup...? prob just the places i worked though lmao)

EDIT forgotten point: I've seen some speculation that the bently's plate reading "CURTAIN" could be a reference to poirot's last story, along side that alternate scene of crowley ordering the sherry for "miss marple", its just one too many agatha christie references for my melted brain to handle and I'm SUS

so this is where i run out of idea steam and hand it over to you lot because i have no clue what this could mean, if it even means anything other than a cool set feature

is there something here actually or am i yelling into the void just for fun?

who knows, who cares!

[ahaura]

Abby Martin tweeted (Nov. 7) a link to an interview she did with an former IOF soldier, Eran Efrati, posted in 2017. He describes the standard brutality of the IOF and how the soldiers enforce the apartheid state—protecting settlers; the standard practice of execution by both the IOF and police; the systematic dehumanization of Palestinians; the role and treatment of Arab Jews in the Israeli state; and Palestinian resistance.

Some excerpts:

"I didn't feel like I was protecting anyone, I didn't feel like I was keeping anyone safe. I feel like I'm terrorizing people. [...] I felt like I was the terrorist. And my job was literally to scare people so they cannot think about acting against the Israeli settlers or the Israeli military. That was actually our defined mission. [...] To instill fear in the hearts of Palestinians [...] and that's exactly what we did."

"At the age of 15-16, I began being almost obsessed with trying to understand the Nazi side in the Holocaust. Not only to hear the stories of the Jewish victims and any other victims of the Holocaust, but to try and understand how can a Nazi soldier get up in the morning, give his kids a kiss, a wife a hug and go out to the camps and do his job. I just couldn't understand it. And when I got into the occupied territories, for the first time I understood how there can be a contradiction inside yourself. As a human being you could do your job and be one person at home—be a loving, caring boyfriend or a son or a brother—and at the same time hold people under a regime so oppressive that people are dying not from only your bullets but the amount of calories being entered into their territory like in Gaza, from depression or sickness. [...]"

"Israel is selling the idea that the soldiers are more important than anything, the soldiers are more important than the lives of Palestinians—not just the life of soldiers, but identity, security, feelings—are more important than Palestinian life."

"Israelis are saying in a very clear voice [...] not only will we oppress Palestinians and do whatever we want, but in a very specific way of saying [...] whatever soldiers do in the occupied territories are right. Whatever we're doing is the correct thing."

AM: I want you to talk specifically about the culture within the Israeli military that fosters anti-Arab sentiment, and racism, essentially. EE: I think the system is not only inside the military, [...] that's actually what being an Israeli means. Growing up in the Israeli educational department, you understand that all the Arabs hate you, that they're actually in a way the continuation of the Biblical amalek, or Hitler, or that everybody there want to throw you into the sea. This is what you're growing up with and you really believe in that. [...] Going in the military, you're already so full of hate and fear at the same time that you don't need much to be very aggressive, violent, and racist toward Palestinians. They see the Palestinian women and the Palestinian men as subhuman. The occupied territories are like an ex-territory, when those human beings are not considered human beings."

(In response to attacks on Israeli soldiers) "[...] I learned [...] that if you will not respect existence, you can expect resistance. And this is how people resist. Israel as a state likes to use the idea that Palestinians only understand force, or power, but the truth of the matter is that Israelis only understand power and force. Every other attempt from Palestinians to try and negotiation this situation in a diplomatic way was countered by more attacks, more oppression, and more occupation, more stealing of the land, more destroying of homes, more settlements being built. We decided to call going into the U.N. 'diplomatic terrorism,' and to go into the ICC 'international terrorism.' We basically describe every form of resistance as terrorism because the sole idea of the occupation is not to be safe; the sole idea is to create an ethnically cleansed piece of land only for Jewish people—with Palestinian workers, of course some Palestinians can stay and do stuff for us—but this is our land. What people maybe don't understand is that Israel is creating the conditions in to the situation of constantly having to 'protect' yourself. We're creating this situation by oppressing millions of people [...] [until] they have no other choice but to resist."

"[...] the truth is that Israel do not hear the diplomacy, Israel do not hear the call of the Palestinians for equality. What we are seeing Palestine is what a lot of people like to describe as the most complicated political situation of our time [but] what is probably the most simple political situation of our time. It's a situation about equality."

AM: Would you say that you support the right of Palestinians to fight their occupiers? EE: Absolutely. I support the right of every human being under an oppressive military rule to resist this rule by any means possible. I do not believe Israel has a right to occupy millions of human beings without every decent human simple basic rights for their name. And I do not believe that Israel will change on its own. At no point in history there was a state or a power that had the power and control over other human beings and benefit from it and just decide to let go of this power on its own. It was always forced on them by the resistance of the people underneath them. All the intervention of other forces around the world. And unfortunately, as I do support the Palestinian right to resist, in any way, I do not believe that their resistance is enough. I do believe that the rest of the world has to interfere. And what's going on in Palestine—there's nothing else we can do except for giving all the Palestinians equal rights and starting a new state, a new equality system for all human beings on the ground."

[mousy-nona]

I didn't send the initial prompt so I hope this is allowed, but could I request a followup to the story where Lucifer gets addicted to Alastor's blood? One where he finally gets that taste he's been so desperately craving, whether through charm or persistence or a trade of some sort?

Part 1 here.

Lucifer tried everything. He tried meditation. He tried stuffing his face with so much cake his waistband grew three sizes (he later transfigured it away, so no one would ask him Concerned Questions). He even went on vacation to the Lust Ring for a while, but there were only so many sex jokes a person could take before they started seeing penises and boobs everywhere.

The whole time he was there, he kept thinking about the forbidden fruit coursing through Alastor’s veins. And when he was done lusting after Alastor’s blood, he would think about Alastor in general. Alastor would hate this, he thought, bored out of his mind while a cow devil was milked dry in front of him. Alastor would hate that, he thought, as Ozzie and his partner treated him to a very graphic display of affection that left his face redder than a tomato. When Ozzie started rolling out the really premium shows, Lucifer decided it was high time for him to go.

By that time, the obsession had grown to the point where he was nearly deafened by it, the constant refrain of AlastorthisAlastorthatAlastorAlastorAlastor –

Then he stepped out of his golden portal, and a tall figure sitting in an armchair by the fire turned around and the voice went silent.

Alastor barely looked up, too busy petting KeeKee and looking like the world’s best Bond villain to give him the time of day. 

“Ah, you’re back.”

When had that radio static started sounding like home? “Did y’all miss me?” He glanced around, deflating a little at the empty sitting room. “Where is everyone?”

“Busy with any number of far more important matters, I’m sure,” Alastor drawled. 

“It’s good to see you too, asshole,” Lucifer grumbled. The brief moment of homecoming faded, replaced by that permanent feeling of annoyance that he always felt around Alastor. He had started stomping upstairs when the shadows by the top of the stairs shifted, crinkled. Then Alastor was there, blocking his way. 

“I see your Majesty has his tiny knickers in a twist,” he commented, as if that wasn’t a totally inappropriate to say to the biblical source of all evil. 

Lucifer’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “Excuse me?” 

“I wouldn’t bother trying to deny it if I were you,” Alastor mentioned. “That would be quite an insult to my intelligence. You’ve been in a foul mood for weeks. The whole hotel has noticed it. You’ve been dragging that silly cane all over the place, something you only do when you're upset.” A flash of green lit up Alastor’s wide smile. He looked positively ghoulish, but Lucifer was still stuck on his comment about his cane. I drag it when I’m sad? Since when? And why did he notice? “If it’s bothering you so much, why not share the load?”

“You want me to…tell you my problems? What is this, storytime?” Lucifer scoffed. 

“Perhaps I could lend you my assistance,” he purred. “For a price, of course.” 

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Now you’re insulting my intelligence.” With a flick of his hand, another portal appeared on the stairs, blocking Alastor from view. The demon was oddly perceptive. He didn’t want him to see just how close he was to falling to his knees and blubbering yes please just a sip, just one more taste. 

(Lillith had always called him a drama queen. Maybe she’d had a point.)

The portal didn’t block the sound of Alastor’s voice, more’s the pity. “Is this about the little scratch you gave me a few weeks ago?” 

Lucifer stilled. The portal wavered, guttered, and went out, leaving the two of them staring at each other.

“How–?” He stammered. 

Alastor’s grin was triumphant. “How many times must I say it? Never underestimate my intelligence. So am I correct?”

Lucifer didn’t respond, which was answer enough. Alastor sniffed. 

“In that case, I believe I have an answer to your problems.” 

What? Was he offering what Lucifer thought he was offering? “And what could that possibly be?”

“Quid pro quo, my dear. You get some of my blood, and I get some of yours.” 

“Fine,” Lucifer gestured him over impatiently. “Come here and bite me –” 

“Not like that.” 

Alastor raised a small glass vial. His smile would have made a crocodile jealous. “I told you, just a little bit of blood. I never said to drink.” 

Alastor eyes flashed into dials and the darkness was split by a lazer of green, then red – a literal red flag. The biggest STOP HERE, DO NOT PASS GO, DO NOT COLLECT $200 Lucifer had ever seen. 

But his mouth was so dry. He could barely think past how large his tongue had grown. Besides, he was the king of hell. The original sin. What harm could it do to let Alastor have a little bit of his blood? 

A lot, the rational part of his brain whispered. This is Alastor we’re talking about. But the rational part of his brain had grown rather quiet around the Crusades, and he’d lost a good chunk of it by World War II. 

Charlie said he was reckless. She didn’t know the half of it. 

“Fine,” Lucifer said. “But you only get to take my blood once. And I can drink from you when I want.”

Alastor thought for a moment, then his lips moved. 

Deal.

The word disappeared in the cra-a-ack of green lightning that struck around them like fireworks. He started to roll up his sleeves, but Lucifer was too quick for him. He flew up the steps and smashed into Alastor with such force he sent them spiraling into the wall. Alastor gasped, but before he could protest, Lucifer had torn the fabric of his shirt and slashed a deep groove into the cool skin of his neck. 

Finally, that sweet blood flowed onto his tongue. He moaned, his lids fluttering as he drank greedily. Big mouthfuls at a time. 

Sin. Death. Apples. Smoke and sugar. The taste was indescribable, and in that moment, Lucifer thought he could have promised Alastor his whole kingdom, and it would have been a fair trade. 

Alastor, for his part, stayed dutifully still, even when Lucifer licked off the blood that had splattered onto Alastor’s collarbone and the tip of his chin, unwilling to let even a drop of it go to waste.

It took a while, but Lucifer finally leaned back with a groan, his lips smeared with blood like it was cherry chapstick. 

“Satisfied?” Alastor muttered. Lucifer made an incoherent sound of joy. 

“Good. I am as well.” Alastor raised a completely full vial of golden blood. When had he taken it? “I believe it was a satisfactory deal for both parties.”

Then he smiled in a way that made Lucifer's skin prickle. 

Heavenly Father, what have I done? 

[unityrain24]

ok people here's my essay. (also note that this was for my english class so it is written in a different style than i usually would. it had to be all formal and grammatically correct and such)

2212 words, analytical essay

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power: A Queer Allegory for Religious Trauma

ND Stevenson’s She-Ra and The Princesses of Power is an animated Netflix original series rebooting the classic 80s show Shera: Princess of Power. This time, however, the show is chalk-full of diversity, varied body types, queer representation, pleasing colour palettes, and a friends-to-enemies-to-lovers lesbian romance. The first four seasons follow Adora (aka She-Ra) and the princesses of Etheria’s fight against the Evil Horde, using their magic to try bringing peace and justice to the planet. A portal is opened at the end of the fourth season, however, bringing the planet of Etheria out of the isolated dimension of Despondos. No longer separated from the rest of the universe, Horde Prime arrives at Etheria- not only bringing higher stakes than any season preceding it, but an entirely new layer of symbolism to the series. The final season was a clear allegory for religious trauma, an especially relevant topic for the show’s majorly queer audience.

When his armada arrives at Etheria, Horde Prime sends his army of clones and robots down to take the planet by force. Unlike the Evil Horde that had been trying to take the planet before Prime’s arrival, who were disorganized, messy, and industrial, everything under Prime is sleek, elegant, efficient, and most importantly: white. Horde Prime’s ships are white, Horde Prime’s robots are white. Horde Prime’s skin is white, his hair is white, his clothes are white, as are all his clones. Pure, unblemished white, with only sparing accents of grey or green.

In colour theory, white has a few meanings. The colour can represent purity, cleanliness, innocence, and even righteousness. This colour theory is heavily incorporated into biblical verses, metaphors, and artwork (and some might even argue that our modern idea of white comes from the Bible). In art, God and angels are almost always depicted wearing white, as is Jesus in his resurrection. Halos of white or light yellow are shown adorning holy figures' heads. Several bible verses use white robes or other white objects as a metaphor of the wearer’s purity. White is still used in several Christian rituals/customs today, such as weddings, baptisms, and more. White is one of (if not the) most important colour in Christian lore. Even in instances where pure white isn’t used, there is a clear correlation between light versus dark and good versus evil. 

White has more than one meaning, however- on the opposite side of the coin, white can also represent coldness, blankness, emptiness, and loneliness. The most interesting thing about the show’s use of white is that it encapsulates both facets of its representation. Horde Prime uses white to represent his purity and perfection, but to the people of the colourful, messy world Etheria, this is a cold, eerie colour. As are Horde Prime’s ideals. His perfection and purity is synonymous to coldness. The white represents both- not only simultaneously, but as the same thing.

Horde Prime’s empire being entirely white is no coincidence- neither in-story by Prime, nor in real life by the writers. Horde prime uses white to represent everything he stands for, and the writers use white to represent everything Christianity stands for.

Horde Prime is a being that has lived an amount of lifetimes beyond comprehension- every time his body starts to grow old and fail, he selects a new clone of his to insert his memory and very essence into. So even though he has a new body, he is still him. And the reason for this? To fulfill his self imposed purpose of bringing peace and perfection to the universe. To thousands of planets he has been, one at a time, to reach this. Horde Prime believes there is only one right way to do things, and that humanity cannot be trusted to govern themselves.

Every planet he takes goes the same: he arrives with his ships, and slowly implants chips into the neck of each and every being on a planet. These chips take away the autonomy of the host, and they are left blank. No personality, no choices, no person. All their actions are perfectly automated and controlled by a hive mind, and Horde Prime can take specific control of and see through the eyes of any individual at any given time. With Horde Prime in control, there is no war, no famine, no pain. There is only peace, perfection, and purity. And anyone who does not conform, does not accept his gracious rule, are dealt with accordingly. Entire planets have been left desolate and barren, entire peoples subjected to genocide for not accepting Horde Prime. All dead in the name of peace.

These ideals upheld by Horde Prime are strikingly similar to Christianity. Perfection and purity are two of the main ideals of Christianity, in hand with righteousness. Christians strive to “be like Jesus,” to be their idea of a good person, to be loyal to their religion, and to make it into Heaven. Several rituals to “repent” exist when they feel they have not upheld these standards correctly- including prayer, confessionals, sacrament, and baptism. Even though true perfection, purity, and righteousness are typically seen as unattainable to everyone but the Godhead, it is common belief that constant trying will at least get you as close to it as possible. Conformity is another key aspect of Christianity, though it is not advertised, and to the exact extent it is upheld depends on the sect. In general, though, Christianity pressures every one of its followers (and even those who aren’t) to behave a certain way, to think a certain way, and to only associate with others among themselves.

Horde Prime’s way of upholding these ideals isn’t dissimilar to Christianity’s either. Much like Horde Prime’s Galactic Empire, Christianity has had a long history of forced assimilation. From the Spanish conquistadors to the pilgrims and other colonial settlers of North America, death and pain has come in the wake of the spread of Christianity for hundreds of years, amongst various sects of the religion. Native peoples have been murdered for their loyalty to their “savage” non-Christian ways, land has been stolen, and indigenous religions and other important cultural traditions have been changed past recognition or completely erased, all in the name of “saving,” all in the name of “love,” all in the name of “what’s right,” all in the name of God. Christianity is the only right way, Horde Prime is the only right way.

Its likeness to Christianization isn’t the only resemblance Horde Prime’s ways share with Christianity, however. When Horde Prime arrives at Etheria, three people are brought aboard his ship- Queen Glimmer, one of the Etherian rebels that had been fighting against the Evil Horde (and now the Galactic Empire), Catra, a high-ranking member of the Evil Horde that had been taking over Etheria before the Galactic Empire arrived (but is in love with Adora, who is one of the rebels), and Hordak, the leader of the Evil Horde. Hordak was a clone of Horde Prime’s that had been stranded on Etheria, which was in an isolated dimension. He spent his time in isolation trying to take the planet so that if he was ever reunited with Horde Prime, he would be seen as “worthy”. Horde Prime, however, is displeased by Hordak’s actions- claiming that Hordak was trying to take the planet for selfish reasons rather than for Horde Prime, and for giving himself a name. As such, Hordak must be “purified.”

In this purification process, Hordak’s mind is wiped, and he begs for forgiveness and to complete the process. He is then dressed in white and walks into a circular pool with liquid that reaches his waist. The liquid is electrified for several moments, and his screams can be heard, and then it stops. He is left blank, and Horde Prime and the other clones watching praise him for being the purest among them. Later, Catra is subjected to the same process against her will, and is now a mindless servant of Horde Prime as well. This process is almost identical to the Christian concept of Baptism. While exactly how baptism is carried out varies between sects (full submersion under water versus just a sprinkling, infant versus child, etc), the purpose remains the same- to purify past sins.

A more abstract similarity between Horde Prime’s empire and Christianity is the use of titles. Prime’s clones refer to each other as “brother” (and to Catra as “sister,” once she has been “purified”), and Horde Prime as “big brother.” Not all sects of Christianity use such titles to refer to each other, but some do; notably Catholic nuns or members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons). But even those sects who do not refer to each other as brother and sister often view Jesus as their “older brother” and God as their “heavenly father.” 

Horde Prime himself has many more titles than simply “brother” or Emperor of the Galactic Horde, however. Other titles given to him include Ruler of the Known Universe, Regent of the Seven Skies, He Who Brings the Day and the Night, Revered one of the Shining galaxies, and Promised one of a Thousand Suns. In Christianity, Jesus also is referred to by many names. The Saviour, the Redeemer, the Son of God, the Son of Man, King of Kings, Lord of Lords, the Prince of Peace, the Lamb of God, and several more. In addition to titles, some of the phrases in general used by Christians and the Galactic Empire are common. Both use the word “rejoice” when telling of their faith. Amongst Christians, “glory to God in the highest” and “[God] is the same yesterday, today, and forever” are not uncommon phrases. “Glory be to Horde Prime” is a common phrase expressed by the clones, and even more so, the infamous mantra “Horde Prime sees all, Horde Prime knows all” repeated so many times throughout the season.

The titles used for each other perpetuate a feeling of conformity and a feeling of “otherness” concerning those who do not conform. The titles used for their leaders perpetuate subservience, power imbalances, respect, and devotion. The phrases used in relation to their leaders perpetuate devotion and omnipotence. These are true of both Horde Prime’s Galactic Empire and Christianity.

Horde Prime was a genuinely disturbing villain who represented every painful thing Christianity is made of- toxic perfectionism and purity, conformity, obedience, control, and omnipotence. Loss of expression and individuality. The fear of being constantly watched. These are things that anyone with religious trauma may deal with, but it’s especially true of queer people. Queer people have had a long history of oppression at the hand of Christianity (and colonialism in general). From outright murder to conversion therapy and other abuses, from abandonment to dismissal, Christianity has perpetuated all of it for centuries. And it’s still something that happens today.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power has a majorly queer audience, due to both the creative process of the show and the representation within the series itself. Not only is the creator of the series (ND Stevenson) queer, but so was practically every character- whether they were a main character, side character, or background character with only a few seconds of screen time. One of the main plots of the show is the complicated lesbian romance between Adora and Catra. As such, the series attracted a good number of queer fans, and religious trauma (or at the very least, religious fear) is a topic that hits uncomfortably close for many.

Other pieces of media that incorporate religious imagery have a tendency to be unclear about how it is framed. Is the imagery shown to be wrong and the victim is right and prevails? Is the imagery shown to be right, and the pained victim in terrified denial? Is the imagery shown to be truly wrong but inevitably triumphant anyways, no matter what the victim tries? It is so muddy in so many pieces of media. The important thing about the fifth season of She-Ra and the Princesses of Power was how it was framed. Perhaps it was because it was a kids show, or perhaps it was the queer creators’ spirit and defiance, but the series was clear in their framing of Horde Prime. The perfect white make the audience uneasy. Horde Prime’s retelling of his victories fill the audience with dread and then hollowness. The “baptisms” of Hordak and Catra are disturbing. Every aspect of Horde Prime and everything he stood for was presented as wrong. Without any doubt.

 And even more importantly, the people of Etheria were able to prevail. She-Ra and the other princesses were able to defeat Horde Prime and his empire, and free those forced into subservience by his chips. Catra (and Hordak) were saved. The ships were destroyed. The people of Etheria were allowed to be free and express themselves and be people. This message was something very important to the queer audience. Not only was the fifth season an expression of queer pain, but an expression of queer hope. Neither thing should be ignored. Pain is valid. Hope is needed. To be healthy, both need to be recognized. To have a series that expressed both, and in such a queer way, was extremely important to so many people.

[funniestbusiness]

On the meanings of the titles of Neuvillette's soundtracks

because hoo boy. he can fit so much religious and mythological symbolism in him.

1. Teaser theme - Eleusis Dicis Gratia

With the help of Latin-speaking discord buddies who wished to remain anonymous, we established that the phrasing is clunky, but "dicis gratia" means "you thank" or "thank", that is, either just second person or an imperative.

Eleusis (or Elefsina) is a city in Greece which in ancient history and mythology is famous for two things equally relevant to us.

1. It was a coastal town, and one of the coastal caves was said to be the place where Persephone was abducted by Hades, as well as the entrance to Tartarus, the abyss under the realm of Hades.

(Parallelled by Meropide and the Primordial Sea under it? Also does this mean that those of you who say that Wriolette are Hades and Persephone-coded are even more right than you think you are?)

2. Shortly after the creation of Athens, there was a war between it and Elefsina, supposedly deity-backed: Athens belonging to, of course, Athena, and Elefsina to Poseidon. Athens won, but out of all the territories conquered by it, Elefsina remained the most independent one, even allowed to call itself a polis and coin its own money.

(Parallelled by the usurpation of Hydro authority and Neuvillette's second-highest position in Fontaine?)

Eleusis was also an eponymous mytholigical hero. They (gender is inconclusive, but more likely male) don't have any deeds of interest, but their parentage is somewhat relevant: Hermes and an Oceanid-nymph, Daeira. (This would fit Furina better than Neuvillette)

Conclusion: "Eleusis" can mean both a place (to be interpreted as Fontaine) and a person (to be interpreted as either Neuvillette or Furina). Either they are thanked by someone or someone implores another to thank them. Therefore a perfect conclusion is unachievable, but my personal favourite interpretation, based on the teaser's content, is "Neuvillette tells himself to thank Fontaine [for giving him perspective]".

Phew.

2. Demo theme - Parousia Diluvi

This one's actually much easier!

"Parousia" translates literally from Greek as "presence", but lithurgically it means "Second Coming". "Diluvi" is probably familiar from the Story Quest name, so the full name of the track is "Second Coming of the Flood".

Bonus: the lyrics in the beginning and from 0:59 to 1:10 are "Omne sublime despicit est heres superbiae", meaning "Every deity is looked down upon by the proud heir". Which is, well, canon. (credit to @vidyadharaonline and @hosbirb in the video's comments!)

TL;DR: A WHOLE LOT of Greek mythology and biblical references here.

P. S. All info from Wikipedia! Also feel free to correct me

[satin-polar]

FNAF Bible theory. In light of recent Dave theory. It's just from my surface knowledge of the bible (but I am from a christian home, I know a lot) and few wikipedia findings.

Scott is very well known for being a religious person. That's nothing new. And this theory will conclude with statement that ,,FNAF is just a retelling of the bible,, at least part of it. There will not be Jesus in this one. The closest one will be his cousin John.

Pls. Mind that english is not my first lauguage. Im good at using it, but I keep missing word. And i keep using languagetool. And few time I use term ,,standin for,, I'm not sure im using correct term. But hope you understand. So let's start with what we got now:

David - King of Israel, Battle with Goliath

Michael - Guardian of Israel, Battle with Satan

Elizabeth - Known for being a mother and having a baby (stick with me)

And few important names: Gabriel and Henry

When the name David came out lately, when Hyper Droid was talking about CC real name. It struck me. David in the bible is best known for battling the Goliath, and Slaying him, becoming King after that. And in the World of FNAF, CC also battled the Goliath, but this time Lost. Goliath being stand in for Fredbear, you know Giant Robot. We can argue that even if CC lost the rest still happened, Goliath was slain - Fredbear was never used again, and he kinda became the King - CC is probably the most important spirit in FNAF, and Golden Fredy is the Leader of Animatronics, Golden like a Kings Crown - And stay golden even after all the years, when Golden Bonnie faded, but that's later. Golden Freddy leads the Spirits even if it's not David (CC) it's Cassidy, but Cassidy is probably not a biblical name, but there might be something to it if we dig deeper.

Michael - The Archangel. The One that cast Satan out of Heaven. Yes Satan being stand in for William. ("...he does battle with Satan and casts him out of heaven so that he no longer has access to God as accuser" - Wikipedia quote). And mentioning. When David is the King of Israel. Micheal is the Guardian (prince) of Israel (If we take methafor for Israel in FNAF as the place where every spirit lingers, sooo Freadys. Yeah Freddy's is Israel, The Bible one, not the moder country, it's sounds weird now, but let's deal with it.) Then, idk whats better way to describe Mike. After his brother's death, he goes and protects what his brother has become part of, to redeem himself, to give his brother and every soul Afton killed an afterlife. But this Flipped retelling of Bible. As David failed to Defeat Goliath. Michael failed to Protect Souls. But after tries and punishment, he banishes the evil from immortality. Except there are no happy endings in FNAF.

Elizabeth is more difficult than two brothers, but. I might have something. As the fact that FNAF is Flipped retelling of bible more struck me, where nothing goes as it should, but parallels are visible. It got me there. Naming FNAF characters after biblical figures must have some reason. At least minimal. Let's start with this, and it might sound more weird than the rest, so at least trigger warning here. The Big Elizabeth in story in bible start with her husband going to a Temple and being visited by Angel Gabriel. And is promised Elizabeth will bear a son - John the Baptist. Kinda like Mike going to Circus Baby Pizza. Yes I compared Circus Baby Pizza to the Temple of God. But as we know, everything must go wrong. It might be parallels that Elizabeth, instead of bearing the child, got crushed in the belly of a child (baby) looking robot. (And you know, I think Elizabeth in bible is only known for being a mother of more important figure, and naming fnaf character after bible character might be difficult, and SL is kinda a spin-off, I don't know what Stott was thinking, I just see parallels) But as we now know, even if figures failed to fulfill their job, everything else still needs to happen. Destiny needs to fulfill itself. And have you ever noticed that Scooper rips out your guts, from the belly. And as spoken before, something needs to be born. And as Elizabeth would bere the child, now she crawls into someone's belly, as Baby put her self together. In flipped reflection of destiny. Michael goes to a temple, and is promised a Baby, it happened but in crocked refection, Elizabeth is born from her own Brother. But it's not Elizabeth that is the most important that day, because at the same moment, Michael is born again as the Baptist. To cleanse evil in the Baptism of Fire. And as weird as it gets, Mike being also the stand in for John the Baptist resonates well with me.

And that not the end, but I wanted to leave that on the end, because now we will talk about remnant, and remnants are still controversial in FNAF fandom. And I didn't want to taint my Elizabeth part with it. But You can add this to Elizabeth part, and it will only add more to the theory. Trust me. In the Bible when Elizabeth's husband visited the temple, angel said, and I quote "...and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit even before he is born." Mention of being Filled with the Holy Spirit is something that just struck me the most. And I feared that it made sense. As we go further in FNAF games, (technically first ever mention of Remnant is in FNAF 6, but it's calling back to the Scooper) First ever usage of Remnant comes from FNAF SL. When Mike is being Filled with Remnant by the Scooper. As Biblical Child of Elizabeth was Filled with the Holy Spirit. Holy Spirit in bible is reserved for very special things. And if we going with naming FNAF characters after biblical names. Usage of Holy Spirit in the most important story connected to name Elizabeth and the Child she bore. As Scooper standin for filling someone with Remnant - Michael goes to a Temple of The False God that created the Baby and is Filled with The Remnants of Spirits. God!

Did I mention that It's not the end yet. It's not that big, but I want to point out what I see as interesting findings. And maybe we can do something more with this. I never readed bible, I just had religion in school, and I was kinda interested in that when I was younger. But I have really good memory, and this all just started coming to me.

When researching Michael, the name Gabriel keep coming out, It was interesting (like ohhh Scott, you know what you were doing) later when the name Gabriel came up in The Story of Elizabeth. There must be something more. First it was, did Scott name missing children after Archangels - No. But using just one name is enough. And as we all agree, Gabriel, being a child possessing Freddy. Scott used the name Gabriel on the first gravestone. Freddy the face of basic animatronics. Scott could name every kid after (as I found) - 7 archangels, but that would be too obvious, but he named only one, the first, the one we all agree is Freddy. Scott could give him a normal name, but he needed to name at least one after biblical name. And it's Gabriel. I have a weird feeling that, as Scott is a religious person, he just jumped on Wikipedia just like me, and found that Michael and Gabriel are very connected with each other. The fact that the name Gabriel comes out in 2 most important names in FNAF that also are standin for biblical characters. To this moment we got 2/3 names, but Mike and Elizabeth are kinda normal names, so we didn't care, but Now there are 3, we got David. All of William's children are named after biblical characters. With show how egotistical he is. But we got more; as we got Gabriel, it's now 4/3.

My smalled finding is that old version the name Henry is Harold. And it get me to Herod, the Guy that Order to Kill Children when Jesus was about to Born. But It sound more like William, You Know the Guy that KILL CHILDREN.

And Afton. The Guy Himself. Standin for Satan, Devil, Mephisto. The one cast out and banished from heaven. As Golden Freddy faded but stayed golden. Golden Bonny rotten, darken, faded to pitch green. Should be punished in hell, as destiny called for that. But not everything happened as it should. William is still punished, but what Cassidy the Vengeful Spirit done. Will it let go. Old Man Consequences is God Himself. The End (The last is just my own little head canon)

I went. Kinda insane at the end of this. But pls dont toss it out as a wird therory. Ther is a lot to this that make sense. And fell free to add more to this, if you can find more, or know more. My knowlege isnt that full. Retelings of the bible are very common. And no one ever get that angry when you use bibilical stories as the inspiraton. A lot of stories if you dig not even that deep, can be traced down to bibilacal stories. As its collection of very basic moral stories - Of good fighting evil. And thanks to Hyper Droid, his David theory opened the gate for.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for re-directing a gift from a homophobe?

I (30F) and my partner (30M) have a low contact relationship with his parents, my MIL and Step-FIL (SFIL). SFIL married into the family 5 years ago and has since progressed from quietly conservative to more openly racist, homophobic, etc.

We visited them at Thanksgiving and FIL wouldn’t stop using homophobic slurs even though he knows my parents are married gay men and we are obviously allies. I asked him not to use such language and explained why I found it offensive, including that it is dehumanizing. He said he uses it “intentionally to dehumanize and degrade” only the queer people that he doesn’t like and it’s okay because it’s his home and his bio daughter is a lesbian, that he wouldn’t use it around my parents because he respects them, etc. I ended our visit immediately, with my partners full support and I have not talked to MIL or SFIL since.

My partner spoke with SFIL once about how disappointed he (partner) is with SFIL’s behavior/attitude and has spoken with MIL several times since. MIL has apologized for SFIL and made excuses (he’s just like that, he grew up in a certain way, the usual BS). She feels it is not biblically correct, but is quieter about it and doesn’t openly antagonize queer people in my presence. Partner feels that MIL, who recently (3 years ago) became mostly paralyzed and had to quit work, has little choice but to rely on and apologize for SFIL and is being pushed into these views recently. I support him having a relationship with his mother (which is low contact by partners choice) but have created boundaries around speaking to and visiting MIL & SFIL myself.

Here’s the AITA part of the story. MIL, for the last 10 years (long before SFIL was in the picture) sends both myself and my partner a large check for Xmas. This year, I have told partner that I will be refusing my check since I don’t feel comfortable taking their money ethically and because it would make me feel beholden to people I don’t respect. Partner and I both think MIL will mail the gift anyway and claim that it is only her money from her disability, not shared.

My original idea if she still sent it was either to not cash it at all or to donate it to the Trevor Project. However, Partner pointed out that his mother will likely tell him to just spend both checks on himself if I continue to refuse, and that if they are the usual amount then by using both he could finally afford some adaptive equipment that would really help him with his disability while he goes back to school.

WIBTA if I agree Partner should use both checks for the equipment? Partner feels that since I won’t be directly spending it on myself, I am morally clear. I feel that because partner and I have shared finances and money is fungible, this is tantamount to me accepting it despite my feelings on its dubious morality and that would make me the asshole. WIBTA for redirecting this gift?

What are these acronyms?

[jo-harrington]

As Above, So Below - Chapter 7: Exodus

Previous Chapter: Chapter 6 - Revelation

Summary: On the road to securing Eddie's freedom, you face insurmountable challenges and need to decide between love or your life.

Word Count: 15.8k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Original Character (Written in 2nd Person POV - You/Your - No Use of Names of Physical Descriptors)

Warnings/Themes: Van Helsing Inspired, Kas!Eddie, Religious Themes, Criticism of Religion/Catholicism, Fate vs. Free Will, Death and Injury, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Discussion of the Upside Down, Fluff, Supernatural Encounters, Gore, Body Horror, Angst, Monsterfucking, Monster Voyeurism, Disturbing Imagery, Allusion to Necrophilia (not Eddie), Brief Allusion to Suicide/Suicidal Ideation, Biblical and Other Literary/Media References. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Note: Uhm...I don't know what to say about this chapter except I'm sorry. And I'm sorry. And I'll fix it, but maybe not for another few chapters. *looks at the masterlist* There's also only like...4 chapters left after this one. So...sorry :D

This series will not be for the faint of heart, nor is it something that was written with a general audience in mind. Please check the above warnings and ask yourself if you are in the correct headspace to proceed. I am happy to answer any questions via PM or Ask.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

“And in the end, we were all just humans, drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.”  - Christopher Poindexter, misattributed to F. Scott Fitzgerald

November 6, 1983

The days that followed--or weeks, thanks to the delay of time in the Upside Down--wavered between an endless dream and an endless nightmare.

It was a dream because...well, you had all the time in the world to spend together here.

You didn't limit yourselves to the confines of the secret little house in the outskirts of the mirrored Hawkins or the Creel house or the chapel. You went everywhere together, saw everything.

You listened to the tapes that Wayne had brought, told jokes and stories. Sometimes you'd just sit together in silence, basking in the simple truth of each other's presence; sometimes you'd have your own activities you'd engage in--books and comics and whatever--sometimes no activity at all.

Sometimes you'd just stare at each other.

You made each other laugh, made each other smile, made each other shout and holler over trivial debates just like you used to.

Eddie lavished you with a guitar performance almost every night, starting with a reenactment of the Most Metal Concert in the History of the World atop the partially ruined trailer in the Upside Down's Forest Hills.

You were enamored with the way his clawed and elongated fingers plucked masterfully at the strings of his Sweetheart, extra phalanges on his new hands making him so dextrous.

You'd always been a fan of his music, a fan of his love of music, and it made you utterly happy to see that it wasn't lost here. He was eager to show off the tricks that he had struggled to perform with his human hands--troublesome chords and rapid fingering on the fretboard that he often cursed about during band practice way back when--and he'd bask in your cheers and your awe. Then he would turn around and prove what else those fingers were good at.

Most of the time together was spent with him in his more familiar, comfortable, human form. His words, not yours; although you would argue that you didn't have a preference either way. But it was his body to choose.

Typically though, sex and feeding were done in his new form, so the two of you could be untethered and free.

Unafraid.

And you took advantage of that time to explore him. You were eager for the chance after your reunion, it seemed, and he always teased you but there was always more to learn. New places that he was ticklish, that he was vulnerable, that made him moan and chuckle and chitter.

He spoke to you in that infernal speech sometimes, unknown promises spoken low and deep in your ear, as he thrust and rubbed and brought you both close to pleasure. Some secret confession that he didn't want you to know outright, but knew you would still understand deep in your heart. In your soul.

He even took you flying a few times.

"You ass," you slapped at him teasingly when he offered the first time, after you'd moaned about the time it took crossing Hawkins to greet Wayne. "You let me walk all around all this time when you could have just flown me everywhere?"

His great, gruesome wings twitched and he smiled that unnaturally wide, unsettling, toothsome smile that you were growing quite fond of.

"Can't let my girl get too spoiled," he joked right back at you. "Besides, aren't angels supposed to fly?"

Fucker, you hissed under your breath, only for it to turn into a yelp as he scooped you off your feet and took to the air.

You’d never considered flying before in your life, ever. Never imagined it. At best, you’d wondered what it would be like to fall if you jumped from the SkyDeck of the Sears Tower or hurtled yourself over the edge of the Grand Canyon. Some flailing uncontrollable thing before you’d inevitably meet your demise in a splatter.

But never flying, never gliding.

It was glorious.

Wind in your face, Eddie’s arms securely around you, you could see for miles as he soared above Hawkins with great beats of his powerful wings.

A group of demobats fluttered into some sort of flock formation with him—it suddenly made sense why he’d looked like he yearned to join them on that first day—and he indulged them in some silly aerial play. Just some weaving and climbing and one drastic nosedive that had you giggling hysterically; the fluttering feeling in your stomach was better than a rollercoaster.

Once you were alone again, Eddie, mischief maker that he was, decided to drop you. Just once. He said he wanted to show you a trick—a barrel roll—and then once it was over, his strong arms pulled away.

Time slowed as you began your descent back to the earth, hands automatically reaching out to try and grab him.

But there was no panic surging through you.

In fact, you were flooded with a sense of peace.

You felt weightless.

And not just in the literal sense.

The world fell away. All of your troubles, the weight of responsibility, the curse…gone.

You enjoyed the free fall for a few brief moments, and Eddie let you have those moments, before he dove down to catch you with an exaggerated “whoops.” You laughed and teased him not to do it again as he tightened his arms around you and pressed apologetic kisses to your lips.

He promised he would never let you go again, crossed his heart and everything.

Still it didn’t stop him from making the joke every time you flew together after that. Feigning a drop so you would punish him with a slap or a punch and then he would pout and ask for a forgiving kiss.

Then it was back to the ground again to greet Wayne or for you to return back to Hawkins for more supplies or a shower.

Back to reality.

But for those brief and beautiful seconds there was nothing.

No worry, no obligation, no dread.

It was just you and Eddie. Reaching out to one another. Just a few metaphorical moments away from being together again. Free.

And it was the thing that drove you both to focus, to work harder.

Because you had a task to complete. A mission: You had to get Eddie home.

Fun and games and quality time aside, after the night in the chapel, you dedicated your time, effort, and power on solving this.

And not just yours; Eddie's too.

The need to fix this ignited a fire of determination within both of you.

Eddie was eager to use the abilities Vecna had unlocked within him for something positive, something useful--something good--instead of the meaningless death that simply came from remaining here and alive.

Instead of the chaos and destruction he had been forced to cause at the lich's whim.

"But you've already done something positive," you tried to lessen his guilt when he confessed the thought to you. "You helped defeat Vecna. You brought Max back to life. The brides and the others too. You survived. This will just be another tick on the list. You're good, Eddie. You are so, so good."

So most days were spent exploring the areas around the gates--exploring the gates themselves, much to your body's protest--testing your powers in this new world, this new earth, to see how much you and Eddie could or could not do.

Whether it was from the sheer amount of time spent here or because of Vecna's intervention, or the fact that Eddie had become something more than human now--something intrinsically entwined with the Upside Down--he seemed to have a much better handle on channeling his abilities here. But it was too unskilled, too raw, and too reliant on instinct and emotion. You'd watch him get riled up on purpose in order to open one of the gates wider or attempt to close them.

You didn't hesitate to guide him, teach him. And it opened up a world of possibilities on how to use that power.

Eddie was an excellent student.

He always had been, actually. Smart as a whip, able to pick things up easily. Even when you'd originally been with him in Hawkins, he'd always had the capability of passing his classes, he just...lacked the motivation and support. Or even interest in the subject matter.

Here, now, he was eager to learn and succeed.

Your original deal was in place, the one that you'd agreed on so long ago when you were determined to see him graduate. You would teach him something and he would get some reward in return; usually just a kiss, sometimes some kind of sexual favor, once he even begged you to join a small DnD one-shot with the brides.

That had been an experience, to say the least.

But before long he could do tremendous things. Cause the earth to shake on purpose, channel the lightning that was ever-present in the sky, commune with the world around him so that he might get a better understanding of what was expected of him and why it prevented him from leaving.

Eddie's growing mastery over his power also helped lessen some of the toll yours took on you.

You never seemed able to utilize your powers to their fullest potential in the Upside Down, and the few times you had returned to the real Hawkins, you felt the tangible difference. There was a surge of your connection with both Heaven and Earth that was simply absent when you were in the other realm. The rumble of the ground beneath your feet, the Earth's molten core, the tremor of the shifting atmosphere as it held the heavens so high up. It was a relief, a breath of fresh air.

Even then, sometimes it seemed like you could never catch your breath after you regained your connection. You were perpetually fatigued.

You ignorantly continued to chalk it up to the differences in worlds, the strain it took to cross through them, and simply sought out alternate practices to supplement as much as you could.

The conversation with Mary Victoria during your initial trip to Hawkins had brought superstition and magic to the forefront of your mind. Not the most conventional for a Knight of the Holy Order, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

Prayers were spoken to various saints as you crushed dried flowers and herbs and beans from the little jars out of the trunk of your car and Claudia’s kitchen. Bread crumbs and heads of garlic. Salt and bone dust.

The simple acts conjured memories of sitting in the basement with Nonna, preparing for this feast day or that one. Old-world blessings to protect the house from wandering spirits and silly home remedies for illnesses rather than trips to the doctor. They felt like returning to a home you hadn't lived in for years. You could practically hear Nonna scolding you that they were not meant to be used for the things you were using them for.

But you had no other choice than to simply try, and the warm and welcoming feeling they gave you made you believe that they would help.

After some time, it had seemed like they worked in one way or another--a combination of all the superstitious higgledy piggledy alongside your waning powers. Light and darkness, holy and unholy, divine and archaic together--because Eddie was able to hold a hand through one of the Gates.

Just a hand.

Certainly not his whole body, not able to fully cross through the membrane of the fissure, but He no longer felt the invisible barrier, the uncontrollable lock on all of his limbs as he attempted to get near a gate.

It wasn't a solution, but it was something.

It was hope.

It made you both scream and laugh at the success, and you kissed and fucked and fed to celebrate this small triumph, until you realized you still had so much further to go.

So you kept going and going, kept pushing for the next milestone.

As much as you could, for as long as you both could.

Truly, the emphasis was on as long as you could, actually.

Because the longer you stayed in the Upside Down with Eddie and the more you pushed yourself, the more you felt the noticeable toll simply existing here took on you.

And the worse it got, the weaker you got.

Until one day you realized that you were dying.

You'd gotten good at lying over the years, good at hiding everything that was wrong with you. Both physical and emotional pain and turmoil.

Nonna had always been the one to see through it, but she was gone now. Jinette knew which buttons to push to get it to erupt out of you, and Gabriel...he just seemed to show up at the most inconvenient times.

But Eddie...Eddie might not have always known what was wrong--or that there even had been anything wrong--but knew how to soothe those hurts until you were ready to tell him. Even now, in this new body and this new world, with these new challenges, he was soft and attentive as he began to notice the changes in you.

The thing about you was that you were also good at lying to yourself.

It hadn't happened all at once, which made the lies easier to believe.

The tremor in your hands as you cast your power out into the world was shaken away. You stiffened your muscles until you were steady once again.

The weariness in your body was explained simply because you kept pushing harder and harder.

"You need a break," Eddie whispered into your skin as you struggled to rise for the "day," ready to face the next set of challenges.

"I need to get you out of here," you dismissed. His clawed hands flexed against your sides in a pseudo-caress. "I'll be fine. I'm just tired. I would kill for a coffee...or a sod though. A shower would be nice too, if there was running water."

"I'll be sure to work on that for the future," he snarked. "But seriously, we can take a day without trying to split the world in two. Just so you can get some more sleep."

"Do you need a break?"

"It wouldn't hurt."

"But do you need one?"

"No."

"Then I'll be fine too," you shrugged him off.

You should have listened. Or at the very least, not been so quick to dismiss his worries.

It only got worse.

Little by little, you began to notice a great, gaping void forming deep within you; it grew every day, snuffing out the warm light inside of you, weakening you. You began to lose yourself, feel less like yourself. Not in speech or in action, just in being.

Suddenly everything took more effort, more willpower. Everything seemed especially straining and hopeless. Everything hurt.

The annoying, ever-present pinches whenever you crossed through the gates between the worlds were gone; instead there were deep, sharp slashes that cut through your mind and body and made you want to scream when you finally emerged from the other side.

You collapsed into Wayne's waiting arms once, late in October, after weeks had passed in the real world and months had passed in the Upside Down. And you sobbed as the realization that something was terribly wrong finally hit you, as the lie that you'd told yourself evaporated, as you finally recognized that the longer you stayed in the Upside Down, the faster you were fading.

"Don't tell him," you whispered into worn flannel as Wayne held you. "I'll fix it."

"What if you can't?"

"I...just don't tell him. Please."

You stretched your stay in the real Hawkins as long as you could before you knew Eddie would be too worried. A whole day instead of a few quick hours; it was time spent mostly with Wayne at Lover's Lake.

You told him everything that you'd been experiencing over breakfast, and he immediately suggested taking more time away from the Upside Down. You shot down that idea as quickly as possible; Eddie needed you, and moreover, you needed him.

In the end, he got you to promise that you'd make more trips back to Hawkins. Quick ones. Half days or supply runs. He insisted that Eddie would understand.

"There's something about that place," he muttered darkly into his mug. "I always thought so. It's why I go to see him as often as I do, so he doesn't forget himself like he did before..."

"Vecna isn't there anymore to brainwash him again," you reassured. "He's...he told me about everything he felt, everything he did. That...void is gone. The darkness is gone. He's Eddie again; I know it. We just need to get him home."

Wayne sighed and stretched a hand across the table to place over yours.

"He's been more himself than I've seen him in years honey, but that doesn't mean that'll always be the case. I don't want anything happening to him. Or to you. The two of you are all I have left."

You understood; he and Eddie were really all you had left too.

After breakfast, you spent time reconvening with nature, with the earth...maybe with God, you weren't sure. You certainly said a few prayers that hadn't left your lips in quite some time; you wondered if those prayers were so foreign coming from you that He would ignore them entirely.

Still, it didn't hurt to try.

Dinner was at the Harrington's with your friends.

You faked a smile as you told everyone the progress you'd made to fix Eddie and close the gates once and for all. It wasn't a lie, not really, but you still felt guilty at everyone's hopeful chatter and talk of rebuilding. Especially as both Wayne and Dustin's worried gazes were frozen on you.

"You sure everything's ok?" Dustin questioned as everyone settled down to eat, but you simply flicked the bill of his hat and tucked into your own food.

Mary Victoria was too busy making goo-goo eyes at Steve, and you took advantage of teasing her so that she didn’t get a chance to see that there was anything wrong with you. You wouldn’t be able to lie to her.

When the sun finally rose on that second day, you were refreshed and eager to get back to Eddie.

You felt a little better. Felt the edges of that void within you start to brighten again. It pained you to think that Wayne might be right, and that you needed to spend time away from the Upside Down to feel better, away from Eddie.

So it was easier to deny it. To pretend. To lie.

You already promised to visit more, what else could you do?

That thought was solidified as you and Wayne crossed the gate--biting back the stinging cutting pain in your body as you crawled through--to find Eddie's waiting figure.

"You really weren't kidding about the running water thing, were you?" he joked, arms wide open for you to join him.

If he sensed there was something wrong--something unspoken between you and Wayne--he certainly didn't show it. He simply held you tightly as you tucked yourself into his side, the only place you truly found strength and comfort.

You turned your face towards him to say some sort of reassuring joke, that as nice as a shower was you'd always return to him because his hugs were better, but that's when you saw the turmoil in his gaze. A roiling storm of unsettling worry in his dark, abyss-like eyes.

You immediately felt guilty.

You turned to Wayne and sent him a wide, pleading look to keep quiet; he nodded almost imperceptibly. Still, there was a sternness about him, a silent warning not to go too far.

But with Eddie beside you--your heart, your soul, your life--how could you promise that? You'd go as far as you needed to; you had to.

You had to push yourself, had to keep going, for him.

You hoped that would be enough.

Once during a mission--lifetimes ago, it seemed--a creature with some dark, predatory psychic ability was able to weed out the truth of your pain and grief and bring it to the surface. Nonna had just died and, combined with the pain of losing Eddie and fighting to get back to him in the afterlife, something inside of you had changed.

The creature preyed on those changes, that weakness.

Back then, it had only been the memory and promise of reuniting with Eddie that caused you to persevere. The temptation to give in had been so delicious. But you'd defeated that insidious creature and walked away with your life and mind...not quite normal...but intact.

Thanks to the unwavering power and strength of your love.

But it made you aware of what it felt like to be preyed upon and that’s what you felt now as you returned to The Upside Down.

The first order of business upon your return was blood.

A day in the real world for you was several days for Eddie, and with the Brides and the creatures of the Upside Down hunting less--or at least, with much less rampant destruction--you knew that he was hungry.

"Starving," he groaned.

He shed his human form once Wayne crossed back through the gate and now you were settled somewhere deep in the labyrinth of the Creel House with your horrifically beautiful boyfriend, situated in the cradle of his arms as he prepared to feed.

It was an intimate act, a very sensual one. At least, that's how you made it out to be now that all of the pretenses of normalcy had been removed. It was a precursor to an inexplicable connection--emotional, physical, sexual, even if sex wasn't always to follow--a foreplay of one sort or another, and you both basked in it.

Of course, foreplay with Eddie had always meant silliness, chatter, and giggling. It was no different now--he was still Eddie, after all--and it was especially evident that he needed the banter since you'd spent time away. He longed for companionship as he'd been left to his own devices for days, and you were happy to oblige.

"Did you watch any TV while you were there?" he muttered as he nosed down your jaw, sniffing the desired sustenance that pulsed beneath your skin. He plucked at the neck of your shirt with careful talons and nipped at you playfully. "Wayne break out the old Bonanza tapes?"

"Believe it or not, he had Hawaii Five-O going when we got back from dinner," you laughed.

"What episode?" His cold breath fanned across your neck.

"The one with the horse."

You went back and forth talking about the ups and downs of the episode. The highlights of Steve McGarrett and Danny Williams challenges with one foe or another, and the scoff of disbelief that so much drama could happen on such a small island.

Eddie even hummed the theme song as he ran his lips over your skin as soon as he'd had enough actual discussion of the topic.

What a sight you must have made.

The suspense was thick in the air as you waited for the inevitable bite; of course, he kissed your skin and muttered a cheeky relax-it's-just-a-pinch-sweetheart, before his fangs pierced the space between your neck and shoulder.

You both sighed in tandem, the world around you forgotten, as he took his first pull of blood. You felt the warm rivulets escape the wideness of his gaping mouth as he drank from you and in any other scenario you might have rolled your eyes at the fact that you'd need to clean up after his sloppy feeding habits. But being close like this, feeling his life force entwine with yours...it made you forget all of your troubles.

It was transcendent.

It was everything.

His touches and caresses, the gentle hums and hisses and clicks that came from deep within him. You laughed as you watched his wings flutter behind him and then he chuckled deeply in return.

You closed your eyes and let yourself savor the moment with him, committing all of the sounds and sensations to memory in case you needed it at the end of it all.

If you faded into death soon and had to cling on to one strand of light and love as you made your descent into hell for the eternal punishment that waited for you, you wanted it to be this moment here.

There was a sound--a snicker--and you stiffened suddenly. Eddie didn't notice. He continued the deep, satiating pulls from the bite, unaware of the intrusion, but you blinked your eyes open and met a cold, black gaze that was locked right on you.

There was a crooked, unsettling grin that grew on Fred's face as soon as you noticed him.

Taunting.

He stood at the threshold of the room you and Eddie had claimed as your own here at the Creel House, and he leaned slightly against the door. The door to your room that was most-certainly closed when Eddie had brought you here to feed. You watched, almost horrified, as Fred ran his hands along his body suggestively; it would have been comedic--his nerdy clothes caught on his claws, creating more holes in the sweater vest and chinos-- if it wasn't so sinister.

If you didn't feel some sense of fear grip you for the first time since before you'd realized who Kas had really been.

Eddie finally felt how still you'd become and pulled away abruptly, leaving droplets of blood along your shirt and down the front of himself messily. His expression went from worried to livid as he spotted Fred at the door.

In the blink of an eye you were bouncing on the bed and Eddie's towering form was at the door, holding Fred aloft by his throat as he hissed that infernal speech at him in some kind of admonishment. Some kind of warning.

It made your entire body erupt in goosebumps.

When all was said and done, and Eddie returned to your side muttering apologies--

"I'm sorry sweetheart, I was so caught up feeding. If I had known. Benson's always been a pervy little weirdo, and that's coming from me. Please, please, I'm sorry."

--you couldn't help but stare at the empty threshold of the room.

The door had been left open.

And Fred might have been gone, but you swore there was still a dark set of eyes watching you.

"Look at me please."

"I can't."

"I'm ok. I'm fine."

"It's a trick," you sniffed. "A lie. I saw you."

"Well look again and see that I'm ok." You felt him getting closer to you, his presence soft and calming. "Angel, please. Open your eyes."

You couldn't bear to see him broken and bloody again. Not after the countless times you had already witnessed him that way over the past few years. It was too much. You needed him to be whole, as whole as he could be given the circumstances; why couldn't he understand that?

His fingertips gently grazed your cheek and you didn't hesitate to lean into his touch.

"But I do understand," he whispered painfully, answering your silent question. "I...I felt the same way when I saw you broken sweetheart. I thought I was gonna lose you forever. That he was gonna take you away for good."

There was a pause.

"I guess he's doing this to me too though. I, uh, would call him a douchebag but that puts a whole new meaning to self hatred huh?"

You couldn't help but snort at the joke and you didn't need to see him to know that there was a smile growing on his face at the sound.

"Don't give up on me," he whispered. "Don't give up on any of us. I can't tell you how many times I've watched her just...fucking...badass her way out of some impossible situation. Worse situations than this. We'll be ok, I believe it."

You held back some choice words; she wasn't you...even if she was. You didn't have the courage she had, hadn't endured countless dangers. Her strength and yours, while similar, were born of different adversities.

Still it was nice to hear some optimism for once, to not have to be the source of it; Eddie had been a miserable piece of shit for a long time.

You slowly blinked your eyes open and he lifted your chin so you could look at him.

Skin pristine, eyes warm and sparkling. That stupid cute smile that you just wanted to kiss.

Not bloody. Not wounded. Whole.

"There," he sighed. "See? Everything is gonna be fi--"

He choked on a cough and frowned. His free hand rubbed at his chest for a second and he coughed again.

And again.

And again.

Until blood started seeping from his lips.

You shrugged his hand away and put as much distance between you as you could. You clamped your eyes back shut and covered your ears as he coughed and choked.

It felt cowardly, it felt wrong. But you were helpless.

You learned a long time ago that prayers were useless here, but you still whispered your pleas over and over, so someone could hear. So she might hear.

And ultimately you knew you couldn't do anything to save him.

Because you were his. And he was hers.

She was the only one who could fix this.

A couple of days passed after the incident with Fred before you crossed paths with any of the Brides again.

There was a different air surrounding them now, not just in relation to you, but Eddie as well, it seemed. They'd been stiff around him for a while, actually. It was just…tangibly worse now.

You didn't know when it started; they seemed fine after that spectacle you'd overheard of Eddie scolding them in the attic weeks ago.

In fact, you actually got to meet them, learn about them, and hear their stories firsthand. Hear about the things that made them easy prey to Vecna. And as...off putting and somewhat sinister as they still were, you found more similarities between them and Eddie--and yourself, to be honest--than differences.

You heard about their deaths at Vecna’s hands and their rebirth at Eddie’s. You got to see the relationships they all developed with him, and it warmed your heart to see them all—the kinds of kids who had written Eddie off when you’d first known—find common ground with him. In death and rebirth, they became more than a cheerleader and a basketball player, a nerd and a metalhead.

They were all traumatized kids who were offered some second chance at life. Maybe not quite a normal life, but a life. They deserved it.

But there was a turning point.

For all of them.

Even though Eddie said nothing about it, you noticed him start to keep them at arms length, especially as you started making progress on his abilities and the mission to get him back to Hawkins. You couldn't be sure if Fred was just more evidence that something had changed...or that it was directly caused by it.

There was that creeping Catholic guilt grabbing you by the throat at the thought. You had been gone from Hawkins for so long that you didn’t even exist to Eddie or the Brides upon their creation. Or the development of their bond through their shared suffering.

Had you been the cause of the rift between them?

It lingered in your mind as you went about your days in the Upside Down and as you made trips back to Hawkins to restore your strength.

You thought removing yourself from their realm, their home, however briefly, might make things better.

When were you going to learn that you were wrong about everything…

One day, on your return to the Upside Down--decidedly not escorted by Wayne, who was upset that you had yet to tell Eddie anything about your weakened state--Patrick had been waiting on the other side of the gate.

You were shocked to see him, and all of the divine sense inside of you screamed for you to go back, to scream for Eddie, to attack before he could.

To run.

But he was crying.

He looked more human than you had ever seen him before, sitting on some rocky outcropping, shoulders shaking with sobs. Those same shoulders that were draped with a tattered green letterman jacket.

His clawed hands clutched the lapels of it, pulling it tighter around him, wings folded into it so it would fit, and he stared up at the sky. As though it would give him some answer to whatever troubled him.

How many times had you been there?

You could clearly see the tar-like tears dripping down his cheeks as you got closer.

“Pat?” You called softly and he winced but didn’t acknowledge you. “Is everything ok?”

Lightning flashed overhead and he shuddered.

He didn’t respond to your question. Instead he asked, “do you think they’re alive?”

You paused a few feet from him.

Who? His family? He told you about them before, just like the others had. A mom and dad, a younger brother and sister. Twins. A picture-perfect life that would make anyone envious.

“Have you…never gone to find them?” You questioned. “In all the times you’ve been in Hawkins…”

“I never…never thought about it before,” he confessed. “When we’ve been back, all I’ve thought about was my hunger. Bringing back enough blood for Eddie. I k-killed people.”

He pulled the jacket tighter around him.

“He sent us to feed the other day and I thought about finding them. I went back to the house after I had my fill."

"Yeah?"

"But it was empty. Abandoned.” He closed his eyes, lines of pain suddenly etching across his face. "I found my jacket...right where I left it in the hall closet and I couldn't help myself. I took it. It was the only thing I needed, more than blood actually.

"But when I got back here, I started to wonder...if they were gone. Dead."

There was a beat, then he took a deep breath and opened his eyes to stare at you, fresh tears falling.

"B-because if they're alive...why would they leave it behind. If they knew I died...why would they leave me behind? If they're alive, do they even miss me?"

The pain in his voice--the stinging anger--made your heart ache and you couldn't help yourself. You crossed the distance and pressed a hand to his shoulder, and covered one of the hands on his jacket with the other.

As soon as your fingertips brushed against the jacket, you were overwhelmed by the memories woven into the jacket, intrinsic to its makeup just like every fiber and thread.

Getting the jacket for the first time when he made varsity, his father telling Patrick how proud he was of him, his little brother trying the jacket on in awe and vowing he'd have his own someday, rejoicing in a championship victory with his friends.

And as each memory--each emotion tied to it--hit you, you let it seep through your body and into his, along with an overarching sense of peace.

Even in your weakened state, this part of your power prevailed. You didn't need to destroy or defend if you could do this. If you could soothe the jagged parts of Patrick's heart and soul.

Soul.

The longer you stood there comforting him, the more you could feel it, and yes...jagged was the right word to use. Hurt, tired, broken. You knew you couldn't fix it, but maybe you could file away some of the sharp edges so he wouldn't get hurt when he looked for a little light in this ever-present dank darkness in the Upside Down.

Patrick's tears lessened until they stopped altogether. When you pulled your hands back you felt weak, but a good kind of weak, and he caught you as your footing faltered.

"The others...wouldn't understand," he said as he righted you. "Eddie, maybe but..."

"It's ok," you stopped him so he wouldn't feel obligated to explain, but your words fell short when he lifted a hand and clicked his claws against the chain of your necklace.

You could practically feel the words burn with holy power--as if to say "how could you have let yourself as close to a devilish being in a place like this"--as one sharp point rasped over the inscription.

Gratia. Charitas. Solamen.

"It told me that they hated me," he whispered. "He told me that they hated me too."

"...who?" you asked dumbly.

Patrick simply tapped the last word on the inscription and then his hand fell away. He looked you dead in the eye.

"I should have known better than to listen to those lies again."

You were left with more questions after the encounter, and you stayed in your head for most of the day upon your return to the Creel house.

You return that, unfortunately, didn't immediately bring about a reunion with Eddie.

You knew that he seemed to be the master of the Upside Down now in the void left after Vecna's death, but he likened it more like a Stewardship.

"Alright Denethor," you had teased him. "Does that mean this is Minas Tirith?”

But that meant he had other...situations to attend to, although you doubted Vecna had ever been as thorough in his stewardship of the dimension as Eddie was.

You'd been with him a few times and witnessed it yourself. An overrunning of vines and tentacles in the town center, enough that the Demogorgons could barely pass. He culled the overgrowth with several waves of his hands. Or a bloody fight amongst the nests of creatures that had overtaken the quarry. He told you it always turned bloody when the demodogs play turned a little too rough. Especially with a runt like Cerberus.

You had stayed high above as he handled the troublemakers and then soothed his worries later that evening when he felt he was too rough on his friends.

Whatever it was that he had to deal with now though was serious enough for him to miss your return. Which...was fine; you understood. But it left you with too much time on your hands. Time to roam and think and overthink.

You wandered about the Creel House aimlessly, getting lost in the long and winding halls as easily as you got lost in your thoughts. At some point, you had the bright idea to find Patrick again, to ask him some more questions, but he seemed to vanish once you were back.

You called his name as you wandered the empty house, and eventually found yourself outside.

Found yourself outside of the garage.

It was a dilapidated but expansive multi-car thing set far along the driveway at the back of the property, with an overgrowth of dead shrubs and a busted door. Although the house was massive--the entire dimension was massive--the Brides had made the garage a home for themselves and the other vampires to stay close to Eddie. A spot to congregate and rest. Clean themselves, talk. You really didn't know.

You'd asked Eddie about it once, when you found that the pillars at the front of the house were not their natural home, but instead a punishment. You ignored the sour feeling that put in your stomach, and instead reasoned that they must live somewhere if not there.

He explained their whereabouts, and then told you to stay as far away as you could.

For your safety, he said, even if he had basically promised you were safe in the Upside Down under his protection.

You knew you still had to tell him of your...affliction, but you were beginning to wonder just how safe you were.

You knew you should have heeded his warning, but if you wanted to find Patrick, this was surely the place for it.

You crossed the yard as carefully as you could and you debated calling out for Pat, like you had in the house. But something deep down inside you held your words back.

Hell, your innate sense of danger seemed to hold you back, phantom hands grabbing at you to stop you, your legs suddenly weighted like lead.

But you were too stubborn, too stupid.

You shook all of your instinct off and then made it to the door.

It was silly, your first thought as you glanced through the cracked wood was that the vampires truly looked like a clique, and Chrissy defaulted to the place of Queen Bee.

She hung from the rafters of the garage, a mirror image to how she had looked in the trailer oh-so-many weeks ago. When she...Eddie...she...you had been seduced and then brought here. Several vampires surrounded her: Heather first and foremost--as gruesome as she looked, Eddie had assured you none of them felt any pain, this was just their state of being here--then a short distance away...Bob Newby, the old RadioShack manager, and a handful of others whose names even Eddie didn't know.

He didn't speak Russian, he told you, as if that was some sort of explanation.

Further recessed back in the garage was Fred, alongside a woman named Janet, and a man named Tom. You'd found out, sometime ago, that they were Heather's parents. Although aside from one instance where Janet's long and probing tongue licked along Heather's face you couldn't say you saw any familial behaviors between them.

Your mind went to Barb when you first found out, who was more creature than person during the attack on the square, and you wondered if the three of them were in the same state. Many of the vampires seemed lost to the concept of humanity or consciousness, actually, with the Brides being the most whole of them all.

They all chattered and hissed and spoke in that dastardly infernal speech, voices and sounds overlapping and combining into some wicked white noise. And while there was some manifestation of your power that you'd used several times in your stint as a Knight, to understand devilish languages and the garbled speech of creatures of the dark, you didn't want to risk using your abilities on something so silly.

But something deep in the dark pit that was growing inside of you--a feeling that you suddenly feared--seemed to beg you to do it.

It tempted you to do it. Taunted you. Played tug of war with your head and your heart.

You debated for what felt like hours.

Do it. Don't do it. But you needed to know. But your whole point to come out here was for Patrick, and Patrick wasn't here.

You took a step back, ready to turn and head back into the house and wait for Patrick to reappear or Eddie to return.

And then there was a screech and you froze momentarily, then stepped back towards the crack in the door.

Chrissy was standing upright now, the only one speaking, her hands flailing wildly. All eyes were on her as she made some kind of rallying speech...or told a story.

All bets were off.

You muttered some arcane old latin phrase and her words suddenly became known to you. Not quite English as a sound that hit the ears, but understood deep in your being. At least...partially.

It was broken. Maybe because you were broken.

The master. Betrayal. Weakness. Blood.

Still, those words caused anger to bubble up inside of you; what did she mean about the master and betrayal? Eddie? Were they plotting to betray him? Vecna? Maybe she was telling some story about how Eddie had turned on him to defeat him.

God. Sins. The Devil.

Then there was annoyance, and you rolled your eyes; yeah, Chrissy had been some Churchy Sue when she was alive, wasn't she? Although, it was a little pot-meet-kettle when you considered your literal occupation was soldier of God.

Subdue. Slaughter. Feast.

The last few words were said to the resounding cheers of the others, their hissing and screeching and roaring. Chrissy laughed and then they all began to move, fast enough for you to lose focus of them, and notice what else was in the garage.

Bodies. Dozens of dead bodies, faces petrified in fear, throats slashed from claws and fangs. Just like the remains of the dead in Hawkins.

You were confused for a moment, as the vampires all began to feed on their plunder; you had...just been in Hawkins, there wasn't an attack, was there? These seemed...fresh. Too fresh.

You tried to make sense of it all as you witnessed their feeding, refusing to look away even though you winced at the cracking of bones and tried to ignore the wet sloshing sounds of flesh being torn and consumed.

The difference in time...and Eddie's promise that they wouldn't feed on any more blood than they needed...wouldn't kill more than they needed...and they'd never brought bodies back before...

But then your thoughts stopped as the scene turned into...something else. As their ashen desiccated flesh became slick and wet with blood and they used the high of the feed to chase a new high.

As the remnants of clothes were shed and they became a writhing mass of limbs as they fucked each other, fucked the bodies--their parts--and fed on both. A true spectacle of revelry and temptation and monstrous animalism.

Decadent and dastardly consumption.

And you couldn’t be sure—it could have been a trick of the light or your fickle imagination—but after a few seconds, a set of pitch black eyes settled on yours and you felt like all of the air was stolen from your lungs.

You were no longer worried about being careful or cautious. You didn't care about Patrick or the intentions of Chrissy and the others.

You turned on your heel and ran.

Eddie returned when you were fast asleep, but you didn't stay asleep for long. You were plagued with nightmares of everything you had been through, everything you had witnessed since you'd crossed back into Hawkins.

It was suffering and wailing and shame. Wings and claws and pain and death, bodies raining from the sky, all tinged with an ever-present red hue.

You woke up screaming in his arms, and you sobbed into his chest as he whispered words of comfort.

You refused to tell him what was wrong, you didn't even know yourself, but he knew that if it was enough to give you bad dreams, it had to be bad. He insisted that you didn't leave his side for a few days, and then scooped you up and flew you both to the hidden little house at the outskirts of the Upside Down.

While you appreciated the quality time spent with him, soft caresses and kisses in the safe confines of this pseudo-home, quiet time was the last thing you wanted.

Because you just spiraled deeper into your thoughts.

As shocking as the scene in the garage had been, you had seen worse. Of course you had. It didn't mean it was any less shocking. But just the spectacle of it brought up more questions, more...reflection of yourself and the time spent since you'd been back.

Back in Hawkins and back with Eddie.

It was wrong. Everything was wrong. You just...couldn't seem to pinpoint the how's and why's of how wrong everything was.

Especially with what was happening to you.

And you tried to ignore the one word that stood out in your mind: corruption.

The day you found out about your family's legacy--the day that would have been your first communion, had you been anyone else but you--your father had showed you a journal. One of his, one of many, filled with words and lessons and histories.

"It's the journey to goodness," he said. "The chance for salvation. It takes time and effort to fill the book."

Just as he was about to place it in your hands, he took a bottle of black ink from his bag--asshole too dramatic to use a BIC pen--and spilled it on the pages, ruining them. Covering all of his words in darkness. Effectively erasing them.

"And that," he said, dropping the book in your hands, splattering your skin and your pure white communion dress with the dark, wet ink. "That is how easy you destroy it."

You'd read one his journals right after your induction into the Order. The last few entries in the absolute last journal. And while you'd argue he was probably out of his mind to begin with, you saw how mad he'd become in those final days before he'd been killed. His tolerance for the dark and arcane had simply become too much until he could no longer withstand its attack on him.

All of his efforts were lost in one fell swoop; he went straight to Hell.

Except, reading through them all and seeing his descent proved that lesson--the very first lesson--wrong. You didn't lose the battle against the darkness all at once, you sunk into it. You were corrupted by it. Especially when you had no reason to go on, and nothing else to fight for.

Now, looking around the room, at the cozy little house and Eddie seated by the window, you decided that you had plenty to go on for. He had always been your driving force ever since you met him.

So why did it feel like you were sinking into the darkness like your father once had?

You just had to figure out what the fuck was going on first.

You huffed and settled into the mattress and stared at the ceiling so you could think.

Actually think; not overthink.

First something was up with Fred, then Patrick, and now Chrissy and all of the other vampires, it seemed. All different situations, but confusing nonetheless. Concerning. Sure they'd all been...dangerous before but this was...unexpected.

And then what Patrick said. It? He? Lies? What? Who? Which lies? You couldn't make heads or tails of it all; you could make some assumptions but...considering what you witnessed in the garage, what if it was a trap?

Or what if it was just a coincidence?

Or maybe something else you hadn't thought of yet.

There were no celestial bodies here; no sun or moon or stars. What if it was a full moon in Hawkins, and there was some indirect effect that caused some erratic behavior here? What if the Brides--all of the vampires--were all affected like werewolves? What if Eddie was? He seemed normal, as normal as he could be. Besides, he was already biting you enough as it was...

You chuckled involuntarily at the thought and Eddie looked over at you from where he sat strumming on his guitar.

"What's so funny?" he hummed, mouth quirked in a grin.

"You don't feel a sudden and extreme aversion to silver bullets or something, do you?" you asked cheekily and he scoffed.

In a blur the guitar was set aside and Eddie laid his body along yours, face tucked into your neck where he growled and bit you playfully as you squeaked in laughter.

All worries and weakness and woes were forgotten as he filled your heart and body with happiness and affection.

"I thought you liked having a vampire boyfriend," he teased when you wheezed for want of air. "Now you want a werewolf?"

"First off," you heaved, trying to catch your breath. "No. I was just thinking of something stupid, and second no. No penny for my thoughts either! I'm just overthinking things."

"As you usually do, even though I'm sure you told yourself you weren't gonna."

"Touche, asshole."

Eddie laughed wickedly.

"Third," you continued. "I thought we've been over the fact that you're not a vampire."

"Oh right, I'm the king of the vampires, actually," he flashed his fangs at you.

"You," you poked him in the chest. "Are a nerd, Mr. Kas the Bloody Handed."

"Hey no. No. Henderson gave me that name, actually," he reminded you. "You can't blame me for picking it."

"I can blame you for looping him into Hellfire."

"They were playing DnD before."

"Uh huh."

He blew a punishing raspberry onto your throat and you swatted at him as you screamed in faux outrage.

"Fine," he leaned back, straddling your hips, and straightened his posture proudly. "Henceforth, it shall be known that I, Edward J. Munson, am not a vampire."

He waited a moment then leant back down.

"This is where you give me a round of applause," he said in a stage whisper.

You rolled your eyes and clapped half-heartedly.

"I am not," he continued. "Kas the Bloody Handed, or the right hand of the Wicked Lich known as Vecna."

You clapped again.

"I'm not Eddie the Freak either."

"You're Eddie the Asshole," you cupped your hand around your mouth and made a soft boo.

He ignored you and continued.

"No, I am Eddie, Prince of Hell," he announced in a proud and grumbling tone and then held his fingers over his head as false horns and stuck his tongue out at you as he hissed.

It was a gesture he'd made tons of times during your relationship, and before and after too you were sure. Fuck, you'd even done it a few times, at his insistence and of your own volition.

But seeing him now, towering over you, with that wicked gesture, and his claws and those sharp fangs...you froze.

Maybe not in fear.

"And you," he finally leaned back down and grazed his lips over yours softly. "My beautiful angel, so good and righteous, perfect for me to corrupt."

Shit, yes actually, maybe in fear.

He pecked a kiss to your lips and then noticed how still you'd gotten.

"Sweetheart, you ok?" he asked, voice back to normal.

You might not have answered but no, you weren't.

You weren't ok. You couldn't be ok.

You'd just been thinking about Hell and your father and your punishment and your descent. You thought about corruption and...it was like he had pulled the word right from your mind, as though you had broadcasted it loud and clear right across the room.

You suddenly felt that pit inside of you grow wider, you felt yourself sink into it, you felt yourself get weaker. Here in the depths of the Upside Down, so far into nothingness that you didn't even know which direction to go to get back to Hawkins and the gates and salvation, even if you tried.

Eddie called your name and your eyes, that had been staring into nothingness, focused back on him.

You were breathing heavily, hyperventilating.

"Everything's ok," he tried with a weak smile, "it's ok, what happened? It was just a joke."

"It's not a joke!" you snapped at him, voice shrill and accusing. You swallowed hard and closed your eyes. You tried again, softer this time, "you can't joke about that, Eddie. Please. You...you can't."

"I...I didn't."

He sounded hurt, and you bit back the lick of anger that flared up at the thought that he would feel some kind of hurt when he said something so careless. You held back the wrath that seemed to come from that dark void inside of you because he...he didn't deserve it.

You took a few breaths and kept your eyes closed.

You were not a deep breaths kind of girl, you were not one who needed to calm yourself down, typically; your warrior's resolve usually kicked into gear by now, making all of those bad feelings stop, but it was nowhere to be found.

And that made you panic more.

So you thought of the rolling hills around weathertop and 4th of July fireworks and crispy McDonalds hash browns eaten on a rainy day and you thought of...of movies that you guys watched together, huddled together on the couch in the trailer.

You thought of a kiss on your forehead, then each of your eyes, then the tip of your nose, then your lips...

You thought of Eddie, your Eddie who was very much right in front of you, but in some ways...not.

"I wanna go home," you whimpered. No, you wailed. It was a painful, pitiful sound and you held your hands over your mouth as it escaped you. You sniffled. "I have to go home."

Eddie scoffed now, the pain even more evident. "Sweetheart, we are home."

"No," you shook your head and looked up at him. "Hawkins home. The trailer...Rick's...home."

"And what about me?"

"You'll come with me."

"How?" he barked in laughter. "If you hadn't noticed, I'm kind of stuck here."

"Then I'll punch a hole through this fucking universe and haul you across singlehandedly," you said three your hands up defeatedly. "Eddie...I don’t…you asked the other day if I needed a break--"

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"Of course not!"

"Then what is it?" he demanded. In a blink he was on his feet, towering over you even more. "What is this?"

You made the attempt to calm down, to catch your breath for a moment, but he snarled at you. A harsh and wicked sound and you pushed off the mattress and got to your feet.

"Something's wrong with me," you shouted at him. "I don't know if you noticed, I don't know how you didn't, why you wouldn't. But something is wrong and I feel...like if I stay in the Upside Down for much longer I'm going to lose myself Eddie. I'm going to die."

"You're not going to die," he waved a hand dismissively.

"You need to listen to me," you begged.

"You need to listen to me, you're safe here, I'll protect you."

"It's not about protection. It's not about you--"

"Oh the it's not you it's me deal?!"

"Listen Eddie," you stomped your foot petulantly. "Every day I'm here I get weaker, the more I use my power...I lose it. It's been feeling better whenever I get back to Hawkins, but I don't stay for long enough. You already know, I've told you...if I try to connect to the earth here, I feel like I'm trying to jump start a car with a potato instead of an electric current. I'm not meant to be in a place like this."

His eyes were wide and desperate, and you could see the gears turning as he considered your words.

"Why didn't you say something before?" He asked.

"We were making too much progress to get you out," you muttered. "I didn't want to ruin it with my bullshit."

"Dying isn't bullshit, sweetheart. I mean it is. Believe me. But not like that." He pulled you closer, into his arms. "You should have said something."

"I know," you nodded.

"I could have...I don't know what I could have done, but I would have tried."

"It's not too late," you whimpered into his shoulder. "We...maybe I just need a few days to get back to Hawkins and rest."

He got stiff.

"And then," you continued. "And then I can come back and we can--"

"A few days?" he interrupted you. "A...a few days here...or a few days there?"

You backed away from him and stared at the hurt that warped his face into a wicked and pathetic thing. Frustration and anger and confusion all carving lines into his forehead and around his mouth.

"Either," you answered him, and his frown got deeper. "Both. Eddie I'm not...leaving you but I need to leave."

There was a pleading tone in your voice, and you prayed--fuck, you were doing a lot of praying lately, and who damn well knew who heard them, but you still did it--he would understand.

Eddie had always been expressive; always wore his heart on his shoulder, never had a good poker face according to Wayne. The only time you really didn't know what he was thinking was when he was a DM, when he stepped into the role of ultimate control and mastery over his players.

You didn't know right from wrong, truth from lies, good from bad when you were in his domain, in his dungeon.

That was who stood before you now. No Eddie, no Kas, no human, no vampire.

Gone was your boyfriend, and in his place...the Dungeon Master.

"And I," he took a deep breath, "I need you to stay."

You waited until night time.

Or at least, you thought it was night.

Eddie wasn’t lying when he'd mentioned that time didn't exist here; day, night, summer, winter...there was no telling just when you were in the Upside Down.

But you used your best judgment.

You'd planned this for days upon your return from the little house to the mirrored Hawkins; well, plan was a relative term.

You waited for the right opportunity. Bided your time and stewed in your frustration. Especially when Eddie didn't give you a moment of peace alone.

And then when everything was perfect, you could make your escape.

It felt so wrong to think of it as escape. Because that felt like...like you thought Eddie was dangerous, or that you were betraying him. No, you were just...taking a trip. You'd be back once you were better. If anything, you could send Dustin or Wayne to explain. Someone who he would listen to, because he certainly stopped listening to you.

But if you were going to survive, if you were going to recover, you needed to get back to Hawkins.

And tonight was your chance.

It was a miracle in and of itself that Eddie was sound asleep beside you and the house around you silent and still. You peeled yourself from the thick comforter on the bed and then padded out of the room with the lightest footsteps.

You were careful to make as little noise as possible; no shoes, only socks, and you stepped carefully on the floorboards so one wouldn't squeak unexpectedly under your weight. You cast the tiniest bit of your power, what little of it that didn't make you feel like dying, outwards to communicate with the house. If you felt the slightest shift of the floorboards or the support beams or anything, you'd adjust your footing and continue onwards.

You felt a strange sense of nostalgia wash over you; growing up, you usually slept down in Nonna's flat, but some nights you'd be upstairs. Typically when your father was home, so you and your parents could pretend you were a family.

You'd always have nightmares on those nights.

So you'd sneak back down to Nonna's where most of your things were and the bed was more comfortable, but if you weren't careful enough on the back staircase, Nonna would hear. Nonna always heard. You'd open the door to her flat--god, you could hear the sound of the door squeaking now as you crept along the dusty halls of the Creel House--and find her at the kitchen table with milk warming on the stove and soft, soothing words.

You always felt bad for waking her, so you got good at being as quiet and careful as possible. Got good at opening the door silently. Until there came a day--the day you finally left--where she didn't even know you'd gone at all.

You purposely avoided thinking of what you'd do if Eddie woke up; you had a feeling it wouldn't be warm milk and comforting words.

It took until the third turn down an unfamiliar hallway and coming face to face with a staircase that went up instead of down that the dread hit you and the panic began to set in.

You'd been watching the landscape of the Creel House change for weeks now. Little by little the hallways twisted and rooms moved until they became something strange and unfamiliar. At first you believed that it was Eddie making the changes in his boredom; thinking back now, with your endeavors to strengthen his grasp on his abilities, when would he have had the chance? Unless he'd made it even more convoluted in the past few days to keep you in.

Surely the house hadn't made itself a twisted mass like this, could it?

Who else, if not Eddie, could have done this?

If you eliminated all logical solutions, whatever remained, however improbable, must have been true; thanks, Sherlock Holmes.

But why would the house itself do something like this?

To keep intruders out or to keep its residents in?

To keep Eddie in?

To keep you in?

You turned to glance over your shoulder and watched the now-familiar sight of the doors rattling and breathing, one after the other down the hall you'd just walked down, until it reached you and the door nearest you groaned a warning. You felt the vibrations penetrate your aura and shake you to the core.

Stay, it seemed to say with a prolonged creak of wood and metal.

Stay forever, it pleaded.

It commanded.

That broke you from your brief stupor and you turned back on your heel and continued onwards as quickly and as carefully as you could.

Well, you tried.

Your socks kept getting caught on nails that seemed to sprout unexpectedly from the floorboards, like the dastardly prickling weeds in a garden. You winced as a spur in the metal of the handrail cut into your skin as you shuffled down a flight of stairs. You tripped at the bottom of one set of stairs, when you were sure the next step would be flat floor, but in a blink you had several steps to go, so you faltered and fell.

The dull thud of your heels against the worn carpet runner when you landed and found your footing made your heart stop in your chest.

You cast your divine sense outwards now, wincing at the feeling akin to a pulled muscle that radiated throughout your body, and you waited, hoping...praying that you wouldn't sense anyone or anything stir at the noise.

Should it have been a surprise that your prayers went unanswered? You really needed to stop doing that if it was gonna come bite you in the ass so much.

You didn't see any of it, didn't hear any of it, but you sensed it.

Groans and muffled infernal speech and wings and chitters and teeth snapping. Things hit the side of the house and then crawled their way inwards.

But you didn't feel Eddie, not yet at least...

Not until there there was a single, earsplitting snarl that echoed from above and the walls practically shuddered around you, like a sinister laugh as the house gleefully anticipated your punishment.

You didn't give him a chance, didn't give any of it a chance. You dropped your shoes down to step into them and then you ran.

You were already on the ground floor of the house; you could make it to the gate if you hurried. You felt a lump in your throat as you heard thundering footsteps above and more screeching; you were grateful that, at the very least, the maze that the house had become would hinder your pursuers just like it had hindered you.

Down this hallway and that, through one room and then another, until you saw the cracked door with the stained glass rose hanging off of its hinges, and finally you were outside. You could see the flowing gate, you could practically taste freedom, healing light, Hawkins.

Home.

But then you watched in horror as the fissured ground surrounding the gate began to rumble and churn and seal itself.

If Eddie hadn't realized that you were gone before, by some slim chance...he knew now.

You dashed across the wicked altar and past the empty pillars as far forward as you could to get to a portion of the gate before Eddie sealed it. You threw a hand out towards it to try and solidly anchor one point along the seam to stop him, to give yourself a chance.

You stumbled to a halt, shoes sliding into the dirt as you felt the practically unstoppable force of his power crash into yours. It shook you to the core, made your entire being vibrate, your teeth clatter, the marrow of your bones quake.

You gritted your teeth and dug your feet in the ground as you held him back; it was a battle of wills, because at this point you knew he was stronger, but you were a stubborn piece of shit and you weren't going to give this up so easily.

"Eddie stop," you grunted, as though he could hear you. His will to shut the gate let up for a moment, and then slammed back into your will to stop him. "Stop this. You need to let me go!”

I can explain, you wanted to tell him. Just let me go and I'll explain everything. I don't want to go; I have to go.

Even unspoken, it seemed he could hear those thoughts, feel those thoughts.

His response? A desperate and resounding no.

Instead of all of his power being concentrated on the gate, you felt the ground beneath you begin to move. It rumbled and cracked, and you faltered in your footing as it tilted with a sudden shift. Your focus on the gate broke, and the glowing crack continued to seal itself.

You felt that wicked, wrathful feeling that you'd suppressed the past few days grow in your chest again. How dare he not listen, how dare he claim to love you and then refuse to listen. A watch as you faded before his eyes, watch as his creatures encroached on you, watch as you died...and did nothing about it because he didn't want to lose you. Even for a day.

"Well fuck you too then," you muttered and you pivoted on the uneven ground and started running again, away from the Creel House, away from the gate.

Into the woods.

You used that wrathful feeling to kickstart a spark of strength, the way you'd been teaching Eddie not to do over the past few weeks, and you used that strength to become faster, swifter, more agile. Your footing became sure as you dodged branches and hopped over the viney, tentacle-laden ground.

The Upside Down was still in Eddie's control, he could find where you were if he wanted to, but you weren't going to make it easy for him.

Snarls and screeches and howls began to sound around you, as the creatures of the Upside Down were called to action and you felt their dark presences begin to close the distance between you.

Bats overhead, demogorgons running, their footsteps almost in tandem with yours.

You vaguely wondered if the purpose of this swarm was to catch you or to kill you. Did they all know? Did Eddie? If the Brides had all begun to act more unpredictable and predatory, outside of Eddie's command, what about all of these beasts? Had they slipped from his control too? Were you in even more danger now?

Feral red lightning flashed ominously overhead as you crossed the protective cover of the forest and turned onto a long and broken road; in fact, the whole sky had seemed to turn a shocking crimson instead of the murky, misty grey-blue that it had been the entire time you'd been here.

Like an ominous warning that there'd be blood shed on this night, whether you liked it or not.

You dodged the hoard of beasts as much as you could along an open stretch of road like this; what small bit of telekinetic energy you had was used to distract those that got close enough, rather than attack. Tree branches falling, car horns going off. Still, several bats and one demodog got their attacks in.

Sharp claws and teeth scratched at you, one bat's tail sliced across your throat in a stinging blow but you conjured enough strength to whip it away and through the jagged broken windshield of a car on the side of the road.

You were thankful that you were so successful in your ability to dodge them and steer them away from your desired path, until you crossed back into the woods again. Then all bets seemed to be off.

Your powers began to fail, your strength suddenly gone. That rage inside of you started to fizzle out and you felt the fatigue of running take its toll on you. Muscles twinging, lungs straining, even more than they usually did. A cold sweat broke out on your brow and the back of your neck, but you kept pushing further and further.

There wasn't that much to go; you began to recognize the nearby roads just up ahead through the trees, although you didn't dare follow them. If only you could get to this dimension's facsimile of Rick's House, and the barren Lover's Lake, before Eddie caught up to you, you'd be safe.

But what had Dustin said weeks ago? Eddie was some master strategist, that's why Vecna relied on him to be his right hand.

So it shouldn't have been a shock when a large, winged figure dropped to the ground just a few yards ahead of you, taking down branches and leaves and vines on its descent. You let out a broken shriek and skidded to a halt.

Patrick stood to his full height, wings outstretched and flapping in warning, then took a step towards you. For a moment, you saw his expression soften, just the way it had when you'd found him at the gate the other day, before it hardened again.

"Sweetheart," he cooed at you. Eddie cooed at you. "Why are you running from me? Why are you running away?"

You panted and looked around; you could hear other sets of large wings flapping overhead and several sets of racing footsteps gaining ground behind you. You'd be surrounded if you didn't act soon.

Your mind raced as you tried to consider what you could use to your advantage here in this place that you had no advantage at all. You were weaponless, you were weak. If you tried to attack Patrick with what little of your power you had left, you'd be empty.

But what could you do...yeah you were a Knight, but your power was lost to you here. Heaven was lost to you here. You were only Human.

And that's when it hit you.

Eddie might have been the Dungeon Master and a master strategist but even a player could trick a DM. He had told you that himself. And although you had only played DND a handful of times, you had real world experience in battle and victory against a dark foe.

How many dastardly dark villains' grand plans had you foiled? How many other strategies had you subverted? How many times had you saved innocent lives with your light?

You were certainly holy, but when it came down to it, no holy power could save you or stop them. If God wanted something destroyed, He could have sent His angels, could have done the job Himself.

Only He didn't. He relied on Humans.

Cunning and crafty. Weak and imperfect.

Just like you.

And Eddie.

And, despite the transformation that came with his resurrection, Patrick.

He'd shown you how human he was the other day when he cried for his family.

"Why do you want to leave me?" You turned back to him just in time to see Patrick scream and lunge for you. You did the most instinctive thing you could: you held your hands out to stop him, you shielded yourself.

It wouldn't do much to stop him--as strong as he was and as weak as you were--but it bought you time to think, time to feel. Especially as everything slowed down around you. You didn't feel the ground or the sky or all of the tricks you'd tried to teach Eddie over the past few weeks. It was all incompatible to you.

No, you felt Patrick himself. Physically. As he inched closer, as his claws grazed your skin so he could grab you, you let yourself feel for all of the parts of him that were still human.

Because those parts were not of this world, they were of your world.

His skin, his muscles, his tears, his heart. His soul. You felt the little electric currents that made his synapses fire, made him move, made him feel. They were all of the things that you were made of too. So if you just gave a little, you could take a lot.

The moment his fangs pierced your flesh and slashed across your arm, you willingly let yourself go into shock. Let your body go cold, let your limbs lose all feeling, let your lungs deflate as you lost your breath.

Once you were well and truly vulnerable--once Patrick's hunger took control and he pulled a mouthful of your life force--you pushed all of it outwards and shocked him. Sent a pulse of panic and pain and numbness into him like a wave, until every part of him seized.

His eyes widened for a moment, and then they drooped. The dead weight of his unconscious form fell onto you, sending you crashing to the ground.

"Fuck," you hissed and tried to push him off of you as you regained the autonomic control of all your bodily functions.

Well, that wasn't what you wanted to happen, but in all honesty, you didn't know what to expect. Not for it to work as thoroughly as it had, at least.

"You know what, I didn't shit myself or have a heart attack," you sighed as you finally got free. "That should count for something."

The racing beat of footsteps were approaching, and the wings overhead much louder; you needed to move. But as you pushed yourself onto your hands and knees so you could stand, you came face to face with the wide, panting, petal-like mouth of a demodog.

You immediately flashed back to '84, to the tunnels, to Dart roaring in your face until Dustin subdued him. But there was no Dustin here, and this wasn't dart; this was one of Eddie's hoard of creatures--Vecna's army.

It was over.

You closed your eyes and waited for the attack, the roar. For the bite...but it never came.

The demodog whined and sniffed curiously, then closed its mouth to be more cone-like and nudged its head against yours. Your eyes shot open and you stared at it; it tilted its head to one side and then the other, then opened its mouth again to pant.

"What are you..." you muttered and it leant its head down to huff around your arms. You winced as you believed it to be looking for your wounded arm or any of the other cuts or scratches along your body, but instead it nudged its cone-like head against your hand. Over and over until you finally brought it up and rested it against the creature's head. "Cerberus."

As though you had the time to spare, you gave Eddie's little friend the pets it desired, and as you did, you felt a familiar sense of calm wash over you. A calm that you typically felt around Eddie.

Goodness, silliness, love and companionship. All of the things you associated with Eddie, poured into this...dog thing.

You worried, for a moment, that this was some kind of trap. That Eddie was luring you into a false sense of security until one of the other Brides could swoop in, but it never happened.

In fact, several twigs snapped in the forest around you, and Cerberus abandoned your comforting touch to growl at the potential threat.

It growled and roared and snapped its mouth as you got up and it backed against your leg once you were upright. It followed you, kept up with your pace--as fast as you could go--as you jogged through the trees and jumped over the tentacles on the ground.

Cerberus was even careful of his steps, and if you decided to weave and change direction, it would run ahead and wait for you if the coast was clear.

It was nice, you realized, not to be alone.

You didn't know whether to feel relief or dread when Rick's house, and the glowing gate the bisected Lover's Lake behind it, finally came into view. Because along the path to your escape, a veritable swarm of creatures roamed.

Demogorgons slowly slunk back and forth, bats flew overhead, a pack of demodogs--not the friendly kind like Cerberus seemed to be--paced back and forth around the house.

"Well," you sighed down to Cerberus. "What should we do?"

As though it would answer.

But Cerberus understood, at the very least, and if you had thought it had been very Eddie-like in its temperament and the feelings that surrounded it, the actions it took next were taken right from the Eddie Munson playbook.

Cerberus started growling and hissing and spitting, and the swarm of creatures all began to stir and look around.

"What the--"

It started taking a few steps away from you, growling as you made the attempt to follow which made you pause, and then it started running, right towards Rick's house, right towards the swarm. You could see your little friend roar and get the other creatures riled up, and just when you expected them to turn back on you, maybe attack, they began to follow it away from the house.

Away from the gate.

Away from you.

The demogorgons, the bats, the other demodogs were all hot on its heels, and you wondered briefly if it had enough consciousness and awareness to pretend, to divert their attention and offer a distraction. Or if it had sacrificed itself, if your scent or imprint on the beast had spurred the others to chase and attack it, knowing that it had allied itself with you.

And you got the flashes of Eddie's memory of luring the swarm of bats away from the trailer and Dustin so he and Hawkins could survive.

Eddie Munson and Cerberus were both heroes.

You said a quick prayer for safety--and maybe in apology for your little friend's sacrifice--but you didn't let the opening Cerberus gave you go to waste. You ran, first for the house, and then down the sloped backyard towards the lake.

A few stragglers that hadn't followed Cerberus were taken care of with various levels of difficulty. You were close enough to the gate that you could practically taste the power that Hawkins offered on the other side, so you drew what strength you could to burn through a bat that swooped down to bite into your limbs. Or deliver an uncharacteristically hard kick into the side of a pouncing demodog and send it soaring.

Each defensive move left you feeling a little more drained but hopeful, because you were almost there.

That hope was only amplified as you watched the gate begin to glow and gape, just a few yards in front of you. The maw opened wider and wider until an arm jutted out, then a head and torso.

Until Wayne Munson and his worn jacket and shotgun finally emerged from the hole.

"Wayne," you called to him, cried to him, desperately. "You're here. How...wh--"

"Honey, what the Hell--"

You pumped your legs faster until your body slammed into his and your arms wound around him.

"What the hell happened," he repeated, trying to push you away. "You're bleeding? And the sky..."

There wasn't time for an explanation, but someone somewhere seemed to be looking out for you if he was here.

You quickly questioned how he knew to come.

"It was the darnedest thing," he shook his head. "I was sound asleep and then there was this...scratching on the side of the house. Shook the foundation if you could believe it. Went outside, found the siding all torn up and thought it had to be...the bats or the demogorgons or something. Imagine my surprise..."

He backed away from you and tucked his hand into the front of his jacket, then quickly extracted a grumpy-looking lump of grey fur and whiskers.

"...when all I found was this little kitty sitting on the porch."

Something softened in both you and Lucy when you locked eyes, and she leaned her head into your touch as you went to scratch between her ears.

"You're a little troublemaker, huh Lou?" you asked as she purred. "First you chase after Fred and now you're waking Wayne up in the middle of the night?"

She stared at you with all-knowing eyes, as if to say you actually got yourself into these messes and I'm just here to help.

"Glad she did," Wayne scoffed. "I went over to the kitchen to see if I had any tuna and I saw the god damned gate glowing again. There was a bunch of smoke. Decided to come investigate and Lou here wouldn't leave me alone until I scooped her up and brought her with."

You were about to make a joke along the lines of curiosity killed the cat when large wings flapped overhead and you and Wayne turned to find that you weren't alone anymore.

First Fred made his descent, swooping low enough overhead that you and Wayne had to duck to avoid his claws.

Then Chrissy in an elegant flutter.

And finally, a vengeful-looking Heather appeared behind them, dislocated jaw practically detached altogether when she roared at you upon landing. Her long prehensile tongue flailed and she spat bile blood and spit across the distance.

"Dear Lord," Wayne dropped Lucy--whose hackles were immediately raised at the dangerous appearance of the three bat-creatures--softly to the ground so he could cock his shotgun and aim it at them.

"The Lord can't save you here Uncle Wayne," Chrissy taunted him and took a step closer, wings dragging along the dirt behind her lazily. Those weren't Eddie's words spoken through her; he wouldn't talk to his uncle like that. Hell, it didn't even sound like the Chrissy you had become familiar with; it was whatever had been in control in the garage. "I don't even think you can save yourself."

There was a thud and a shuffle behind you and you turned, now back to back with Wayne, to find three more vampires there. Ones you'd recognized from Chrissy's little orgy: Bob, Doris, and Janet in various stages of desiccation and decay.

For the first time all night, there wasn't just fight or flight. There was true fear.

Because you were surrounded.

You knew there were more vampires out there. If these six had gotten the jump on you, were the rest stealthily waiting for their opportunity to strike overhead. And moreover...where was Eddie?

Doris screeched impatiently in front of you and Lucy quickly shuffled at your feet so she could hiss in return. You tried to shush her, tried to lean down and pick her up to keep her safe but she batted at you too, and then turned back to the creatures.

"Hey now, let's take it easy," Wayne spoke softly. You felt him shift as he, presumably, lowered the shotgun. "I didn't come here to cause any trouble. Just came to see Eddie."

"Bit convenient," Fred chuckled sardonically. "You make your little visit on the same night she tried to run away."

"I don't think she was running away," Wayne responded. "She's due to come back any time now, aren't you honey. Get some supplies?" He didn't wait for you to speak before he continued his spieling. Trying to buy time, you hoped.

The banter went back and forth, but you focused on Lou and the threat in front of you and how you could possibly use the beings that surrounded you--earthly or infernal it didn't matter--to your advantage if anyone attacked.

Wayne asked where Eddie was, curious enough for the both of you. And a collective laughter shook all 6 vampires around you.

"He's a little busy, actually," Fred sneered. "Dealing with a traitor."

You clenched your jaw and fought through the tears that burned your eyes.

Did he mean Cerberus? Or was it all a ruse? Surely if Eddie wanted to stop you from leaving, he would come to get you himself. Deal with this himself. Instead of going to punish his friend for helping you. But if he trusted his creations to feed him your location...and they were out of his control...

"He'll be here soon enough," Chrissy hummed, sounding a little too sure of herself, like the cat that got the canary.

Wayne relaxed for a moment and scoffed kindheartedly, the way a neighbor would; you bit back whatever swear was at the tip of your tongue. The Munsons and their distractions.

"Say now, you're the Cunningham girl aren't you? Saw your mom at Bradley's the other day."

"That's not gonna help," you muttered over your shoulder.

"Can't hurt to try," he shrugged.

Yes, actually. It could.

You didn't know who made the first move; probably Heather if she thought Wayne was preoccupied with Fred and Chrissy. She thought, as though the distraction was anything other than a product of the hive mind. But someone made a move, which made Wayne raise the shotgun again and take a shot as quickly as he could.

There was a wet, popping sound and a roar, and then chaos followed.

It was a flurry of wings and teeth and infernal words. Lightning flashed in the sky overhead and the ground quaked around you, causing your footing to falter.

So you were right; the Upside Down itself was suddenly a player in the game.

Wayne reloaded the shotgun with rounds from his jacket pocket to take pot shots at whatever vampire he could.

Heather and Chrissy were quick to launch an aerial attack, much like they had in the square. They dodged Wayne's shots and dived to hide within the safety of the gates before emerging. Chrissy was slower-- Wayne's first shot having hit her--and used the apparent disadvantage to their benefit. Wayne kept trying to finish the job with her while Heather made diving attacks to swipe at you.

You tried pulling the same stunt that you'd done on Patrick to incapacitate both Bob and Doris. They had been unsuspecting in their power as they both seemed like candidates to be the weakest of the group, but given the amount of human parts that you could sense left in them--precious little compared to the others--you were glad to take care of them first. Doris practically melted when you sent the shockwave through her, energy pulled from all of the vampires collectively.

It took more to take Bob out, though. He resisted a few more moments and took several more steps. You cried out and fell to the ground as he slashed at you, claws gouging deep across your thorax, before he went down himself.

And somewhere in that mess, was Lucy.

Little Lucy. The sweet, grey, short-haired cat who you and Eddie had fed tuna to once upon a time and whose favor had been won, apparently, til the end of time. Who dodged the footsteps and claws and shots until she had the chance to swipe at assailants as an attack of her own.

Queen Lucy. Small but brave and mighty. Like her namesake Lucy Pevensie.

Who suddenly grew with each growl and hiss, whose claws dug deep into the ground, whose back seemed to grow sharp, long spines until she was large and imposing and terrifying to behold.

You watched her transformation in awe as your hand pressed against your wounds, and somewhere deep down inside you the words I told you so bubbled and threatened to burst from you.

Because you had told Eddie, once upon a time, that Lucy wasn't just a cat. No she was a great, fabled predator and protector.

Lucy was a Splintercat.

Her tiny meow was suddenly a thunderous roar, and she immediately went on the offensive. She pounced and clawed at the vampires as they tried to take to the air, batting them off course and shredding their wings. In some wild maneuver, she somehow impaled Fred along her spiney back and then scraped his barely-living carcass off on the trunk of a nearby tree, a possible feast once you won this fight.

If you could win this fight.

But you would not.

The rest of it was a blur. Literally.

You were on the ground, losing blood fast; you drew power from everything that you could around you to try and keep yourself stable but the radiating pain from Bob's attack only made the use of your abilities harder.

You watched helplessly as Lou chased and pounced after Janet, who had set her sights on your prone and rapidly-weakening form, and Heather decided it was the perfect chance to strike, with your protector distracted. Wayne, of course, offered some cover. He took one shot, then another to try and stop her.

Suddenly, a loud, demon-like screech rang across the barren lake as Eddie's large, infernal, monstrous form appeared. He dropped down on heavy feet and his eyes flashed dangerously as he surveyed the scene before him, softening only when he spotted you on the ground, wounded and, yeah you could admit, probably bleeding out.

You whispered his name pathetically as Lucy took a more protective position, placing herself between you, other vampires forgotten as a much more powerful adversary had arrived.

Eddie roared and screeched again, and everything stopped. Heather and Janet dropped and fell to the ground at his feet. Even Fred, with his mangled body, seemed to clasp his hands as he begged.

Chrissy, though, seemed to ignore his orders. Her sights were set on her prey and she would have her fill.

With the ear-splitting sound that echoed across the lake at Eddie's arrival, Wayne had dropped his shotgun to cover his ears. And the lack of defense was perfect for Chrissy's attack. She swooped down and grabbed him, then soared upwards; her clawed hands and feet pierced through his body as her fangs ripped deep into his throat and she quenched her thirst.

You screamed for him, and Eddie's eyes tore away from you and locked straight onto them.

He took to the skies to chase after Chrissy, and Lucy saw it as the perfect distraction to take advantage of. Her wide mouth--damn, she was a lot bigger up-close--scooped you up like a much smaller cat would the carcass of a bird or a rodent. She was as gentle as she could be but you still felt the prickles of her sharp teeth pierce through your clothes and skin.

And as she turned and bounded for the gate, you watched in horror as Eddie finally reached Chrissy and fought to subdue her.

In his rage, Eddie seemed to forget the most important thing.

In their tussle, Chrissy let Wayne go to protect herself from her master.

And you watched helplessly as Wayne fell, fell, fell.

It was a mess of slashes and claws and wings, flailing silhouettes against the carmine backdrop that was the sky.

Just like your nightmare.

The last thing you heard before it all went black, was the sickening crunch as Wayne's body hit the ground.

“So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.” - E. A. Bucchianeri

Next Chapter: Miserere Mei

[dippable]

hey gang! haven't posted in a while. so let's talk about the boiled one phenomenon/TOE, that webseries with the character that made me unable to sleep correctly for a few days.

okay, so, i do believe that uh. thing with the hands. his name's locust. i'm not very sure how he ties into the story, but i do know a few things. when he gets a victim, he hollows them out- making it look as though nothing happened- and takes their heart (or, in the title, a "love thumper"). i'm not very sure how TOE (the organate enterprises) fits into it, but based on what i'm seeing, it seems to be the company behind the nature broadcast, the ad for the star candies, and whatever showed up after the ad for the star candies. do i know what this means? of course not

okay here's the part that i'm definitely sure of. there's lots of references to the bible, and locusts. i'm not christian, or even that interested in the bible, so if anyone wants to correct me here, do it. however, the locusts in the bible eat everything they come across. also, locust is mentioned in revelations (which i will talk about in a minute)

the boiled one's introduction has heavy, HEAVY references to the bible. mostly, i saw the sky opening up and the trumpets in the ears of the victims as VERY biblical sounding. however, when zamperini's (his name is likely a reference to watanabe matsuhiro, who was in the japanese military and a known war criminal) laying in the bed while being interviewed, we see the sign about jesus turn into "i can see you" above him. we can also see the uh. hair? spikes? whatever? of the boiled one in the window. personally, i see it as very similar to how god watches over people- all-seeing, all-knowing, etc etc. plus, most of the events in the fetal fanfare part (sky opening, trumpets) tie directly to revelations. plus, the "tree of heaven" part ties to it as well... but i don't know about a tree of heaven. maybe it may tie to the garden of eden? but i'm unsure. anyways, time to focus on zamperini, the war vet.

job zamperini, while being a reference to the events of prisoners of war in japan, also references job's suffering in the bible. again, not a christian, but job's story involves god taking everything from him. plus, the ephrata branch (according to comments under emortalmarcus's video) is named after a town in pennsylvania. ephrata, while being a town in PA (which may tie to why it wasn't placed in zamperini's original hometown) sounds similar to efrata/efrat, which is an israeli settlement, believed to be the original location of bethlehem- more ties to religion and christ.

overall, i personally believe it's leading to a focus on zamperini and watanabe. zamperini turned to christ to deal with the pain and suffering he endured while a prisoner of war, and watanabe died in 2003. i do believe the boiled one is watanabe's ghost coming back and using biblical imagery, themes, and events to torment him further. however, i'm not very sure how my boy locust ties into this (and i haven't even SPOKEN about that creature that follows you after the lights turn off) or how TOE ties into that and all. overall, i need me some more lore to figure out if doctor nowhere is focusing completely on zamparini's story, or if he's using it as a symbol of war (like one of the comments on the original series said)

overall 10/10 series i saw the boiled one on a thumbnail of a video and genuinely shat myself

[sancta-seraphina]

isn't holiest an apocalypse story? why don't you go in chronological order?

Hi Anon,

This can be a little tricky to explain, and the answer to your question is both yes and no. But we need to take a closer look at the apocalypse genres...

Apocalyptic literature is a genre of prophetic text in which information is revealed to someone by a divine messenger. It has been defined this way in particular, and also defined as the information being specifically about the end of the world, although I was taught this was not a requirement of it.

'Apocalypse' itself means 'revelation'—this is why we call the Book of Revelation also as the Revelation of John or the Apocalypse of John. There's also the Apocalypse of Abraham, the Apocalypse of Moses, and so many others... (although the Book of Revelation IS the only canonical apocalyptic text in the New Testament).

But there is also apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic fiction. Which is different, is probably what you're referring to, and is a sub-genre of science fiction dealing with cataclysmic, end-of-the-world scenarios.

Which is what my story is not, especially because I classify it as Biblical Horror (meaning horror related to/inspired specifically by the Bible and related scripture).

But Holiest is absolutely apocalyptic in nature in the first sense discussed, since it has divine entities revealing information to other characters (although Holiest is obviously not scripture and not supposed to be prophecy). And that happens all the time for this set of characters, who are all angels, fallen angels, and demons. It's a part of normal communication for them (but I can talk about Heaven and Hell's dynamic in another post).

The story itself is about what happens when a formerly divine entity can no longer figure out which visions are the commonplace/every day occurrences for him and which aren't. Over the course of his psychosis, he completely loses the ability tell the difference between, for example, his siblings contacting him in their divine ways, and his new and concerning hallucinations that are all based on the Revelation of John... because of this, he interprets his variously correct and incorrect visions as being portents of or even events of the end of the world. And things do get rather 'apocalyptic' in the cataclysmic sense towards the end. And oh yeah that character is the devil, who is kind of an important player in Revelation...

The answer to your second question about chronological order is because I didn't want to do it in order and because no one is stopping me. I wanted to go in reverse. I wanted to write my Revelation-themed mental illness story, and then to show the reader how my character got into that situation (The Harrowing), and then how he got into the situation before that (Heresiarch).

These novels can actually be read in any order, but I like them best in reverse. It was more fun for me that way.

[francis-writes]

I'm super entranced by Ethel Cains 'Inbred'. Hear me out. Feyd to that song... He's just so religious satire and cannibalism as a form of love language coded. 'Touch me till i vomit' and 'He's so good to me and to nobody else, so you can fuck yourself' or 'If he wakes up, He'll show you what I'm talking about' STOOOOOOOOOOPPP fuming at the mouth

[I understood this are just thoughts about character, not a request, so if I'm wrong, please correct me. I suck at understanding intentions and anything that isn't put plain lol]

Unfortunately I don't listen to Ethel Cain (I heard her, just not my type of music) but you got me at cannibalism as a form of love. I love all the cannibalistic, gore, violent metaphors, idk maybe it's because I just like a man covered in blood, maybe because that how love feels when you're mentally ill.

Okay, so I'm checking my collection of cannibalism/love posts and somehow I forgot that I literally kept a screenshot of Ethel Cain herself.

Also kinda this:

Though I didn't think about religious satire before. I mean, I only wondered how much he knew about his role in Bene Gesserit's plans and whether it was any different for him than pressure of being an heir to house Harkonnen. So hard to say how he felt about being an important step in plan to create Kwisatz Haderach but I often compare his relations with people to biblical stories (I'm not Christian anymore but that's what growing up in religious household does to a mf). Like him and Paul, like Jesus and John the Baptist. Both born in the same time, both destined by God to great things. But no matter his talents and skills, he was the second. I don't know how much Frank Herbert was inspired by the Bible and how much it's my obsession with christian symbolism but also: especially Paul but also Feyd as important part of Kwisatz Haderach plan, remind me about Jesus and Isaac. Promised by God, special ones, admired, destined to great things, but also supposed to be sacrificed.

And Feyd and Rabban remind me about a few cases of siblings in the Bible, but mostly Cain and Abel? Elder brother jealous and bitter than the younger is God's favourite, that whatever Abel does is appreciated and praised, meanwhile efforts of Cain keep being rejected. There's a popular picture (bc Bible doesn't explain how God expressed his opinions on the offerings) that when they burnt their offerings for Lord, smoke from Abel's offering rised to the Heaven, showing that his gift was accepted and that Abel was worthy in God's eyes. Meanwhile smoke from Cain's offering floated downward. And I am just like. Yeah, that's Rabban and Feyd. And also Joseph and his brothers when he had dreams that all his siblings will bow to him...

Okay, I think I should stop here because I wandered out off topic and tbh I could continue this monologue about Dune/Bible correlation for a long, long time.

Apart from all my incoherent ramblings, I checked that song, and yeah... this is so Feyd (even the title, bc I suppose that in Dune marriages between close family in noble houses were rather popular; after all they wanted Feyd to marry Jessica's daughter, that would be his close cousin. Let me tell you, my family is from small village and for many generations there were marriages between close cousins, and if nobody stopped my grandma, she would marry family too. And I am a living mentally ill proof of how inbreeding ends)

[spurgie-cousin]

Sorry if this is a personal ask but as an ex-Christian how do you deal with the paranoia that you might go to hell when you die? I have considered myself agnostic for a while but lately I’ve been feeling like I should go back to Christianity because I am so scared of going to hell but I also feel like I should want to be a Christian for more reasons than that. Have you ever dealt with something like this? How did you handle it? Thanks and I love your blog!

Thank you! And that's a great question. The idea of going to hell got its claws in me deep as a kid so this is something I definitely struggled with even as an adult.

For me, the thing that helpe the most was just completely deconstructing and then reconstructing my idea of spirituality. A big part of that was studying other religions, particularly other types of Christianity but also Judaism, Islam, new age stuff, etc. The idea of hell can vary SO much from denomination to denomination, some believe it's not such a bad place, some believe it's temporary, and some don't even believe in it at all. It really got me thinking about how many ways the Bible can be interpreted and how even if hell was a real thing, maybe my own church's interpretation wasn't even correct. People are imperfect after all and we know religion can attract people who care more about power and control than spirituality. There are so many ways people think about the afterlife, how can I be sure what I was told is any more correct than what my Jewish neighbor, whose religion is even older than mine, believes?

Along those lines, another thing that shifted my perspective was learning that most people's idea of hell as a fiery, torturous underworld was actually not even included in the Bible but invented by a poet and philosopher named Dante Alighieri. Even Biblical scholars consider the poem in question to be complete fiction, but the idea burrowed its way into our collective psyche through other fictional media like movies and stories.

I think another thing that has been really important for me personally is defining my morality outside of the Christian idea of it. Basically sitting down with myself and deciding what few things, if any, I know are almost certainly true about myself, people, the universe etc. One of those things I decided was that despite my flaws, I do not think I am inherently bad (as my church had told me). I know that I do my best to be kind, fair, and always try to be a little better than I was the day before, even on the days I don't do it as well as I'd like. From that perspective, the idea that a supposedly benevolent creator would send me to eternal suffering for breaking a few arbitrary rules starts to feel less and less like the truth. If there is a God and he knows everything about me (and is not a masochist) he knows my heart and intentions.

There's definitely more but this has gotten long lol so I'll stop there for now. I guess the tl;dr of this all would be, to try to reframe your idea of spirituality as a whole. Learning about different kinds of spirituality, doing some serious self-reflection, and being very honest about it will help you do that, which can help you get out of your old ideology's grip. I hope any of that makes sense or can be helpful in some way ❤️ let me know if there's anything I can clear up, if you have other questions, or want to talk about it more

[knightotoc]

The Fall of the House of Usher spoilers:

I was wondering if there were any way for any member of Roderick's family to escape from their curse. The deal is that "your bloodline dies with you;" "bloodline" seems like a precise word, but there are a couple interesting qualifiers in this (unreliable Google) definition:

The first thing that stands out here is that "bloodline" is a modern word, increasing in use, not the kind of ancient language you'd expect in a demonic contract with an immortal being. If this timeline is correct, Verna wouldn't have been making deals using this exact phrasing in the past; the one with Roderick might be the first one.

The second thing to consider is the example phrase: "the survival of a legitimate royal bloodline." "Legitimate" and "royal" often contradict "bloodline;" all three concepts are social constructs that depend upon a culture's definition of fatherhood, motherhood, law, and power.

A king might have illegitimate kids but invent a new religion to make them legitimate, like with Henry VIII and Elizabeth I. Or a queen might have illegitimate kids and keep their true father a secret, like the James Hewitt rumor. Medieval upper classes in Europe and Japan commonly adopted/raised each other's kids to maintain a peaceful balance of power.

Modern ideas about genetics are based in science, but deals with the devil certainly are not. The Ushers made the deal in 1979, and the technology for and social trust in paternity testing did not become common until the late 80s.

What makes this curse so particularly twisted is the same thing that makes the TV show so fantastic: Roderick did have many illegitimate kids, but he claimed them all and made them his heirs. If he had been ignorant of or rejected his illegitimate kids, would they have been safe from the curse? In my opinion, yes.

The question reminds me of the phrase, "Blood is thicker than water," which is a misinterpretation of the Biblical quote, "The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb." The former means genetic family is stronger than social bonds, while the latter means the opposite. Both phrases and Verna's deal invoke "blood" as the source of their power, but they all mean it in a different way.

The "covenant" of the Ushers, Roderick's promise of wealth and power in exchange for obedience, is signed in blood -- the misery and deaths of all the innocent victims of Ligodone. This tragedy has a far greater social, physical, and spiritual impact on the world than the fact that a handful of people have similar genetics.

I think if a character truly wanted to escape this "bloodline," they could. It would be difficult, but people have been rejecting their families for as long as families have been worth rejection. It makes me think of Ruth in the Old Testament ("where you go, I will go"), or Elon Musk's daughter, who changed not only her first name but her last.

The most tragic aspect of this possibility of escape is that it would still be impossible for many people, especially children. In the show, the only character who I think would escape this way is Lenore, but the curse comes too quickly. If she only had five more years, she might have been able to create a new identity for herself.

I love stories of inescapable tragedy, and it breaks my heart that Lenore's fate reflects the reality of so many kids trapped in bad families, so I appreciate what her death means. I wouldn't want to change anything in the show, and I don't think my interpretation cheapens the curse, just adds to it.

A final story that I want to consider is the recent Bob Marley biopic "One Love," which has a motif of a childhood vision of a pith-helmeted horseman in a burning field of sugarcane. At first, this horseman is his white father who rejected him, but eventually he transforms into Haile Selassie, the Messiah of Rastafarianism. While Marley is able to escape the mental hold his father had over him, the movie also implies that Marley inherited a rare form of cancer from him, which led to his early death. It's not demonic, but it is still unfair.