#some things just scream astral and i have no choice but to make it

[asexualtuckerfoley]

Prue Halliwell Appreciation Week Day 1 - Favorite Episode/Season

My favorite Prue season is season 3. The entire season is about her growing and recovering from the things that stripped her of her childhood and her innocence and reconciling with her family, but at the same time we see her trying to suppress her emotions and become superwitch, which stems from her anxiety.

Family Moments:

The Honeymoon's Over: we see her and Phoebe's relationship healing after a month without Piper, and while we've seen growth from them over the first two seasons, I think this is the first time we've really seen them so willing and determined to work together and support each other.

All Halliwell's Eve: self explanatory

Power Outage: this episode lets us see how far the Halliwells have come by how far they fall. This isn't season 1 Prue where she held her anger in close and tightly and hated to admit when she acted out of anger; she was immediately horrified by her actions and acknowledged that she was angry and that the demon just amplified it.

We All Scream for Ice Cream: Prue and Victor finally reconcile and there's this promise of continued growth that unfortunately Prue never gets to see

Wrestling with Demons: Here we see some of that old Prue-and-Phoebe tension, but this time it's over something much bigger, and they reconcile in a much quicker, more mature way. Additionally, the threat of losing Piper helps them work together proving that their sisterhood trumps all.

Pre-Witched: this is just a glimpse back at how broken the sisters' relationships was before becoming the Charmed Ones and it shows how much they've changed and grown.

Honorable mention for The Good, the Bad, and the Cursed: I liked the Prue/Cole dynamic and I wish we'd gotten to see that relationship grow as well while we moved closer to Phoebe and Cole's wedding

Romantic Relationships:

Magic Hour: anything about a non-Charmed One's relationship in this show is a reflection of what's going on in the sisters' heads, and for Prue it's her frustration with not being able to maintain a relationship because she's a witch.

Bride and Gloom: Prue's dating again in this but the guy she's with is a safe choice, but it takes being forced into a marriage with a demon to realize she doesn't want someone boring, she wants someone who can keep up with her.

Just Harried: when Prue's id gets out, one of the things she looks for is a fun relationship, the opposite of what she had in Bride and Gloom. I think if Shannen had stayed for season 4, we would've seen more of this "learn a lesson, find a guy who's the opposite, repeat" pattern throughout the season before finally meeting someone who was right for her.

Inner Child Moments:

Once Upon a Time: Prue literally has to regress to her childhood self to be able to see the fairies, this being shortly after the season 2 finale where she was physically reverted to a teenager

We All Scream for Ice Cream: now she's revisiting her past in a different way, coming up against a villain she saw in her childhood but couldn't comprehend at the time. This episode kind of reminds me of an EMDR session, where you allow yourself to revisit these traumatic childhood moments.

Anxiety/Superwitch Moments:

Sight Unseen: Prue's (not unwarranted) anxieties overrun her rational self, and Piper and Phoebe can see that, causing them to doubt Prue. It makes me think they grew up around this anxious, irrational version of Prue that comes out under stress

Primrose Empath: Prue gets overwhelmed by the emotions of others, which isn't surprising since she hardly allows herself to feel her own feelings, but in the end it's all those emotions that allow her to defeat Vince and at the end of it all, she is able to regain consciousness while her astral self is active, indicating that if she had lived and her storyline continued, that would have been the next step in the evolution of her powers.

Death Takes a Halliwell*: this is anxious superwitch Prue at her peak in my opinion. The entire time we watch her try to fight death itself to save every single innocent stems from her own inability to accept death as a natural part of life and her fear over losing the ones she loves after her mother's death. She thinks that if she's strong enough, if she's powerful enough, she can beat one of the most fundamental forces in the universe, but she's forced to accept here that even superwitch can't save everyone.

Sin Francisco: if DTaH is peak superwitch, Sin Francisco is her parting shot. It's everything bad that could come from that version of herself and the last warning she needs to understand that while anxious superwitch acts out in ways that could harm her, so does overconfident superwitch. I think in season 4 we would've gotten one more episode before Prue realized that superwitch isn't a person, it's a persona, and she needs to accept that it's her as a person who makes her a good witch, not the mask she puts on.

*It's unclear to me exactly when the decision to remove Shannen from Charmed was made, but this episode is such a painful reminder of what's going to happen to her character and Shannen's actual passing, yet somehow watching Prue come to terms with death and allowing herself to begin the grieving process is helping me grieve Shannen.

[mydysfunctionalvampirefamily]

Goddamn why does dark Selina have to be so cool??

Suarez can freeze dark Selina???? That is badass.

My God Ira is rolling so well. 27 dice of damage? That is insane.

Did he just strip Reiss of his perfect clarity easy peasy? Yes! Anything to make Reiss look like the loser he is.

Goddamn Arabella is also very cool. Team astral is going strong.

Ira not wanting Arabella to associate with him. 😂 I'm glad they can still laugh and be a little silly in all this.

Noo they counterthaum his thingy??? Oh they failed.

Reiss failed!!! Yay! I really hope he dies the most pitiful death. Like that people almost don't even care.

Noooooo they possess Eden??? Not our baby! How dare they. 🥺

Apocalyptic form??????????? Oilblsck owl wings, 2 extra arms?? Demon horns??? Extra eyes???? I am cackling. This is def unhinged final battle shit. 😂😂 Also understandable why he didn't use this before, this is not subtle.

Omg the reactions. I don't know I'm ready. 😭

"Oh god." 😭 Wynn bb.

"Miles isn't selfish." 😂 he said that with a straight face too.

Wait who shot Suarez? One of the blsck hand guys?

So basically this roll will mean we might have a season 3 Johnny boss fight??? Plz No. Thank fuck!

-10 on the dice pool??? Wtf Dark Selina?? For someone who loves to fight you don't want to be hit. Kind of mid if you ask me.

13 successes???? That's my boy!!!!! Hell yeah Johnny!!!! Okay she rolls 7 successes but still!

She soaks 11 and she halves all damage?? Goddamn! That is fucked up. Like I know she is powerful but fuck!

46 dice blood pool???

Garrett rolling so bad for her blood pool 😂😂😂 that is so funny.

Wait what??? Why is she all of a sudden getting 6 agg? Me so confused. But I mean I'm not mad about it.

Uhoh this sounds like a Lasombra black hand person.

Okay I know I'm late in asking this in the last episode, hlbut how is lethal damage less bad than agrivsted damage? That makes no sense.

Johnny just got 9 blood? Woah! So tenah is sacrificing herself rn, right?

Oh god Suarez dead and headless?? Brutal.

I feel like Johnny saving the life of the werewolf is so pivotal, maybe not in actual combat but in showing who Johnny is as a person.

Oh, I guess I should have said trying to save the life of that lupine.

Everything goes black??? He dies???? Hahaha haha I'm not laughing hysterically and panicked, you are!

Noooooo!!!! Not just like that?!!?? Wtf 😭😭😭 I somehow assumed Johnny would live. He's such a beast. Now who's gonna kill dark Selina?!?

Also remember 3 lines ago when I said the choice might not be pivotal to this fight. Well I was definitely wrong.

I am screaming!!!! What if Miles made a final deal to get Johnny back oml 😍😍😍

Rebecca trying to be a good girl and reminding Lex of Selina powers and being rewarded with the knowledge that it's a presence power. 🥰

She soaks 11??? Damn. Britta is trying her hardest. 😭

Wow dark Selina, jealous of Britta in all this? That's wild. Also spreading Britta's bosyparts across the state like some fucked up treasure hunt is highly messed up!

Dark Selina is so petty. 😂😂😂 "Your father is dead, shut up."

Come on Miles, baby! What's one more deal for your boo? AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH (I scared my dog I screeched that hard)

He can fucking teleport???? I'm sorry, demon Miles is fucking dope. Even the demon portals are kind of a charm.

Holding someone up in the air by the neck.

The fucking shocked Gasp from Rob when Lex said Neil 😭😭😭 I'm immediately crying.

(the line: "the only thing that makes sense to you is that wherever you are, Neil is there." is gonna be such a lifeline for shippers to cling to.)

Johnny, baby. 😭 The hug. The conversation. I don't know why, but I wasn't ready for this.

Remember when we were laughing at Wynn sending tremere to their room and not sobbing? Good times.

Omg I kind of forgot about the Johnny resurrection. Damn poor Neil all alone again.

Johnny can control his frenzy???? Woah!!! Kill this bitch!!!

"Save them, I've made the deals I needed to." Stop! 😭

The glee in Tim's voice killing these people.

Noooooo the oubliette!

Wait now she has jess and Eden???

😂😂😂 They're in the last battle of the world and they're arguing about if they need to scrap movie night from the curriculum.

Ira is such a badass.

Noooooo Reiss!!!!, now she's gonna eat the girls.

No nono nono Reiss cannot leave! He needs to die!!!

Yaaaaay fire damage!!

YESSSSSSSAAA HE FUCKING KILLED HER!!! SHE'S FUCKING ASSSSHHHHJ BABY!

Okay now that I've cheered and all that I'm basically only halfway through this episode. Uhoh!

Omg Weathers????

Johnny and the fire flower.

"He ran away." Wynn plz 😭

"Miles thinks you should do that can you change your line, Miles?" 😂

Wait why are we taking Delgado?

Thank you, Miles! I mean I get the complicated relationship Johnny but wild to just bring him.

Wynn is not taking Neil's death well, not that I think she would. But she's angry.

AAAAAAAHHHHH is he gonna drink her??? Yes pllleaase!!! Noooooo whyyy you gotta be sensible??? 😭

Johnny going from angry to soft at Miles. "Friends till the end." 😭😭😭

If they know the weapon that kills Selina, why do they need pendragon just go to Hartford and get it?

The Britta/Johnny hug 🥺🥺🥺 (I know someone who is gonna Love this)

This is a testament to how insane shit has been that I had already forgotten that Wynn had to choose between Neil and Britta back then.

Not the almost childlike hope of Johnny that they can just find Neil's ghost and solve this.

"and tries to tell herself to get up, because he's not coming to help her." excuse you! I'm walking my dog and crying rn. I thought we might have a quick break where I could be in public and listen to this goddamn podcast!

Miles trying his best to sound so casual up on the rooftop. But still hoping there is a way. Saying he doesn't think he can stay instead of full out saying he can't. Damn.

Even in this moment you cannot unravel your emotional constipation???? God fucking damnit Miles!!!

You're making me fucking cry about cigarettes??

Britta: I don't know if I like being called a death assassin

Wynn: I don't know what other kind there is.

Touche Wynn. 😂

Why does it sound like they are kind of leaving Britta behind? That would be fucked up.

Johnny and his girls though, how perfect would that be? Okay good Britta is gonna get to do her own thing by her own choice instead of just being left behind. 😂

Yaaaaay Britta finally saying she is good at something! Only took us 100 episodes to get her to recognise her potential.

Miles' final piece of accounting advice: it's your car, you can paint it any colour you want.

Uhoh. UHOH. Noooooo. We knew this was coming, but it's still so freaking sad. Fucking Lucinde, why is she just the worst? Even when she's gone she is still ruining this. Why not let them have one last night together? One last group hug. Wynn fearfully begging Miles to go and make sure she never finds him.

Miles still taking care of all of them though, making sure they have papers and money.

If I'm gonna be honest I kind of assumed/hoped we would just kill Lucinde before this was an issue.

Jessica is so awesome. (this is a compliment! Before we have a whole John is so cool thing all over again. 😂)

I cannot believe John Fucking Reiss is still alive!!!! I stfg! That was my only hope. That he'd die. 😂

What the fuck??? Roman Pendragon did a TV interview covered in blood??? 😂😂😂😂 Sorry that makes me crack up. That is insane.

"I'll miss you most of all, scarecrow." 😂

"... Into the dark." idk why but those last three words gave me goosebumps. I can't believe it's done.

Also on the one hand I'm glad Miles is alive, but idk maybe it's because I so assumed he'd would for sure die. And I hoped he'd die sacrificing himself. But if I really let go of my obsession with bringing Miles pain and being the idea of him and Arabella like that is kind of funny. Also the fact that Zofiel always gets his way is amusing. I also know that alive is aparently a stretch after that ritual.

The not my name?!? Omg

[bara-izu]

Hi!! I only recently found out about your art, and I love it so dang much! Halion and Morpho especially are so beautiful! If you don't mind me asking, what were some of the things you focused on when creating Halion? I'm making my own character in Baldur's Gate 3, and I feel like I'm missing some things.

Well firstly thank you for joining my OC scream hole! Hope you enjoy your stay haha

As for the character creation process--

Imma ramble a bit here so apologies :

Halion wasn't my first Tav, he actually started as the "Dream Lover" (early access version of the Guardian) but I liked his design so much I wanted to try playing as him!

After playing a little further into act 1, kind if understanding where BG3 takes place in terms of the other content in faerun, I basically went into a big lore deep dive about the Forgotten Realms. I've had the privilege of playing other campaigns that take place there (Horde of the Dragon Queen, Out of the Abyss, Dungeon of the Mad Mage ect ect) so there is lots of little lore tidbits I've picked up along the way and basically stuffed into Halion.

My main suggestion for developing a BG3 character backstory, is look into your characters race/culture lore, research into some of the deities and look into some faerun locations; I know canonically Tav is from Baldur's Gate, but they may have lived somewhere before (eg. Halion lived in Candlekeep as a child, and was born in Elturel- both locations feed into his background and life choices). And if your Tav is gith why not look into the astral plane? Look into wild space?~

An example of this is, Halion is a paladin, I looked to good aligned deities, fell for Lathander since Halion has sun iconography, then found that Lathander has actual Paladin Orders (eg Order of the Aster), who worked to fight against Shar and similar evil aligned gods. While this is all well and good, Halion's lack of brutality led to him being kicked out of his Order, just before the Nautiloid abduction. This plays into his personality, how he interacts with characters like shadowheart, and how he interprets game events.

There is lots of cool lore within the forgotten realms and lots to digest and grab inspiration from for your character :) to be fair though, some of that may also com naturally as you play, make decisions and see the ingame story develop~

Hope this helps and sorry for rambling a little:)))

[pondslime]

Bo and Lester Sinclair

AHHHHHHH, the stinky men themselves 🦍 + 🐀!!!

disclaimer: imo, any situation in which u "date" either of these two men would have to be predicated on some absolute tomfuckery and a hostage-type situation. LMAO. I see no other conceivable world where you'd just........run into them and have a normal ass relationship jhfdsjhfjdshjsdf they are so deeply ABNORMAL. so warnings for stockholm syndrome/dubcon headcanons below!!

once again under the cut bc a bitch truly does TALK

feel free to send me a character of ur choice for headcanons and I'll give u 3 pros and 3 cons of dating them. if ur so inclined!!!!

boseph

sidenote: I've been on a sabbatical from Him™ recently. he's been on the backburner. I've been hoovering down DIFFERENT fictional shlong. HAPPILY. so tell me why I was scrollin thru these gifs of him goin yum yum there he IS HIIIIII BABY hehehehe muy deliciosio. ?????? so fuckin embarrassing!!!!!!!!!!

ANYWAY.

3 PROS

dick game is fucking immaculate. I HATE to fuckin say it. literally crying screaming THROWING TF UP. bc come on. I'd LOVE. more than anything. to tell u with CONFIDENCE that it's subpar. but I'd be fuckin lying to u AND myself. and the gods would smite my fuckin ass from existence. so yeah. it's good. u know. the kinda dick game where he absolutely does not care if this feels good 4 u. and it's mean and awful............but somehow it's makin u astral project into 328798329832 different galaxies. it's SUCH a fuckin shame. smh.

despite being a FAKE ASS LARPING "mechanic", I genuinely do think he's handy and knows his way around vehicles/how to fix things. he's very much a car guy. <-this is also a CON. have u met a CAR GUY before??? immediate no. but I'm considering it a pro. bc u will definitely have to bring him sweet tea down to his stupid shop one summer afternoon. and the garage doors will be wide open and he'll be blasting korn or slipknot or some shit. and he'll be workin on a car engine in a slutty wifebeater with a slutty lil rag tucked into his slutty lil belt loop. and he'll be sweaty and covered in grease and annoying. he'll complain about how ur interrupting his work. and then u get banged on the hood of the car bc he's a skank. so it's a pro.

I just feel like he smells G O O D. like. AS MUCH as I call him stinky. I unfortunately think he consistently smells good. like. the kinda smell that makes ur brain go ooga booga cavewoman-mode and forget ur basic motor functions. sigh sigh SMH

3 CONS

EVERYTHING I HAVE EVER WRITTEN FOR THIS LOSER

MEAN dom (this is also. regrettably. a pro)

it would be SO fun to peg him. u will never peg him.

mommy issues out the fuckin WAZOO. daddy issues too. every issue in the fuckin book. get ready 2 be seen less as a person and more as a weird conglomeration mishmash projected fantasy-nightmare. he's dedicated his whole adult life to maintaining a murdertown in his beloved mama's memory. his mother also fucking hated him. he's very aware of that. recreates and sexualizes his trauma to feel better about all that. yikes!!!!!!!!!! YIKES!!!!!!!!!!

lester

3 PROS

full of boundless enthusiasm!! genuinely interested in what u have to say!! will happily talk to u for hours about whatever dumb shit u have boppin around ur brain!! most ppl are usually unsettled by him (honestly, for valid reasons LMAO. I mean. he IS leading u to certain doom in his big bro's helltown), so having someone around who doesn't treat him like an oddity has him BUZZING.

he's a v strange but thoughtful gift-giver. I definitely see him as the kinda guy to randomly give u weird lil trinkets. like here u go. he whittled down this wood into the shape of a catfish for u. he's coming over to present u with a bizarre taxidermied raccoon w/a frilled dress and tiara. both the dress and tiara are made of recycled chip bags and six-pack rings. u love it

I feel like he makes a MEAN gumbo. u wouldn't even know it's made of lizard tails and alligator eyeballs. unless he told u. which he will. w/a huge grin while ur mid-mouthful

3 CONS

actually LITERALLY stinky. like. RANCID. DIS-COS-TANG. I'm not discounting the fact that he takes baths in like. a metal tub in his backyard w/dial soap. from time to time. but come on. he's a bit putrid. a bit foul.

I v much feel that he hasn't navigated a lot (if any) normal adult relationships. so get ready for some pie-in-the-sky goofy affection that skews pretty immature. he means well, but there's a lot of cognitive dissonance and general weirdness there. he's hardly been shown any good representations on how relationships should work, so his interpretation is...................boyish. and strange

I.........feel like he's clingy. just. smthn about him. as happy-go-lucky as he might appear, he's v liable of getting his feelings hurt if he feels like ur pulling away/losing interest in him. all the sinclair boys are pretty DEEPLY maladjusted lmao. I could see him being the type of personality to sulk around. he's the baby of the family after all. just a lil guy (affectionate) (derogatory)

[koskela-knights]

I’m trying to make my own AW2 playlist of chapter ending songs—do you have any recommendations? Feel like we’re similarly obsessed with the spiral…

Thnx for your question! And well yeah I might be a bit obsessed with the spiral/loops and its endless possibilities & scenarios that could've been 👀

Besides the official ending songs the game already provides, there are some other songs that give me general AW/AW2 vibes or specific feels for certain characters! I've been pondering about songs to share for a while, so this is a great opportunity! Thnx again for the ask!

Also feel free to share your own songs in my inbox if you feel like it :D

It's gonna be a long post so buckle up 😅

This is the moment to share my love for Lord Huron, specifically their Strange Trails album but also Vide Noir one.

Strange Trails is, to me, an album about being lost and cursed and it's about love. Honestly, I don't think The Night We Met is a good representative about the entire album.

Meet Me In The Woods

This entire song just screams Alan Wake to me.

I took a little journey to the unknown, And I come back changed. I can feel it in my bones. I fucked with forces that our eyes can't see. Now the darkness got a hold on me.

(...)

How long, baby, have I been away? Oh, it feels like ages though you say it's only days. There ain't language for the things I've seen. And the truth is stranger than my own worst dreams.

(...)

I have seen what the darkness does. Said goodbye to who I was. I ain't never been away so long. Don't look back them days are gone. Follow me into the endless night. I can bring your fears to life. Show me yours and I'll show you mine. Meet me in the woods tonight.

Like, how can you read those lyrics and not think about our boy Alan.

2. Way Out There

Drifting in a land time forgot If you think that I've changed, you know me not I belong bodily to the earth I'm just wearing old bones from those that came first I been unraveling since my birth

Those lyrics and partially the song in general remind me of Alan in the Dark Place trying to escape. How many loops has he been through? (Thus in this context, kind of wearing 'old bones from those who came first, aka older iterations of Alan himself) Also, the theremin they use is so fitting and it's an instrument often used in horror movies so <3

3. Vide Noir (both album itself & song)

Where can you go when it’s all in your head? These are the last words that I ever said Where can you go when it’s all in your head? These are the last words that I ever said

Tbh, this album also gives off major Control vibes with its themes and songs about the Astral plane & the black void. Many other songs on the album talk about the main character getting lost and drifting in-between time/space and living/dying

4. War by Poets of the Fall

You might be familiar with the song already and its music video 👀

I like how all the Poets were involved in the video as Taken (have you seen BTS shots of Olli with a fake beard?!!) Anyways, the song makes me think of how Alan has to remember that there are people out there who want to help him. That there are people out there fighting against the Darkness, even if he is mainly unaware and might even feel he doesn't deserve external help. It also reflects Alice being Alan's bright light in the darkness, and the reason he wants to keep fighting to get back to her.

In a similar vein, Lust For Life (also PoTF haha) this song could also be seen through an Alan/Alice lens, the shared shoebox mechanic and Alice trying to help/guide Alan back to the real world.

What is lost may be found Safe and sound

5. Hello Cabaret by PoTF

Now this song is maybe one of my faves of the Ghostlight album. Relistening to my fave lyrics of the song, it reminds me of the Koskelas and Ilmo specifically.

For when you come calling Dancing on my grave For all my choices made Judging me for how I played The hand you dealt me Stains the blood that flows

(...)

Of all I once did love but lost Nothing comes without a cost The wise fool said that's just the way it goes

(...)

Most will never comprehend Till' they're in the very predicament

To me, Ilmo at the end of the game is heartbroken and dead inside now that his other/better half is gone. The 'you' in question here might as well be the player or Scratch/Alan and he feels judged by the narrative of his previous actions. He's made decisions and sacrifices and used the Cult as a palpable 'villain' for the greater good. Something many probably didn't/wouldn't understand unless they were in his shoes.

6. Chasing Echoes by PoTF

It's a fun coincidence that in AW2 you have literal Echoes to chase huh.

Is this a role or disguise seeking mercy in creation? Just another device or truly a time when we will rise? Oh one and all, to the occasion And bridge the gap to see the other side?

The more on-the-nose/literal meaning aside, I think this song can be read as another one about Alan trying to escape the DP/spiral upwards toward ascension. Again, there's a 'you' in this song that could be interpreted as Alice who is a light inside Alan's darkness.

7. Brother by Lord Huron

How long have I known you, brother? Hundreds of lives, thousands of years How many miles have we wandered Under the sky, chasing our fear? Considering the spiral and the historical background of the Koskelas and their (indirect) ties to the Huotaris, they might as well known each other/been brothers for longer than what we see in-game. Some kind of trouble is coming Don't know when, don't know what I will stand by you, brother 'Til the daylight comes or I'm dead and gone

(...)

I know we can't stop what's coming But I will try, oh how I'll try Will you fight with me, brother One last time, one last fight

We know Ilmo got visited by the Dark Presence and has had nightmares about killing Jaakko. Luckily, he rose above that (as far as we know) but I think the dread and fear of losing Jaakko keeps lingering just underneath the surface. Personally, I enjoy the thought of people sometimes remembering the previous loop/spiral and that those affected/remembering would try anything to keep the loop from repeating.

8. You Belong To Me by Cat Pierce

If you're a fan of Alan/Scratch, this song has that obsessive/possessive vibe to it that seems to be a dialogue/mix between them.

I've heard allegations 'bout your reputation I'll show you my shadows if you show yours Let's get it right dear, give a good fight dear We'll keep it all up behind closed doors

(...)

I must confess to you, I want to possess you Feels like we're dreaming, we're tripping and reeling Just say that you belong to me I could get lost in the feelings we're feeling Just say that you belong to me

[elemental-daddy-neos]

[ladyfogg]

Who Wants to be Lonely - 4/10

Who Wants to be Lonely – 4/10

Fic Summary: After the ground splits and sends you hurtling into the Upside Down, you come face-to-face with the notorious, and injured, Eddie Munson. Lost and hunted by otherworldly creatures, the two of you have no choice but to stick together if you’re going to find your way home. Masterpost.

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Female Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Language, Violence, Angst, Blood/Slight Gore, Season Finale Spoilers

Fic Song: Who Wants to be Lonely by Kiss. Full fic playlist on Spotify.

A/N: Just wanted to give a little warning that the reader deals with some anxiety in this chapter. Nothing huge but I know it can be a trigger for some. Happy reading!

Eddie sleeps for longer than he means to.

He comes to consciousness slowly, too groggy and out of it to really fully wake. Several times he dozes off again, only to come to moments later. Even though he can’t tell what time it is, he knows hours have passed. His entire body is cramped from lying on the floor and the pain is dulled, though not by much. He’s no longer lying on your lap. Instead, your empty bag is under his head like a pillow. When he strains to listen, however, he can’t hear anything. Not the sound of you moving around or your breathing.

It's that thought that makes him open his eyes.

The first thing he sees is that the barricade has been fortified with more shelves, all of which are now directly up against the door. A little worrisome but at least a good sign because it means you’re somewhere in the small building.

Eddie lifts his head to look around. Items that had been scattered about have been picked up and organized into neat piles, in very careful rows like they would have been if they were still on the shelves. Near the little area where Eddie is laying, you’ve brought over things he assumes you’re planning to take with you when the two of you leave. He spots bottled water, first aid supplies, and food among the items. But there are also tools you were able to scrounge up, like a hammer, nails, screwdriver, etc. Everything gives the impression you’ve been hard at work while he’s been sleeping. He has no idea how you’ve had the energy to do any of this. He should probably get up and let you rest for a bit. No doubt you’re running on fumes.

When Eddie tries to move, his body won’t listen. Between his injuries and the strain of running around the Upside Down, he’s stuck lying on the floor, curled onto his side. Fearful and incredibly concerned, he calls your name.

You pop out from one of the back rooms. “Right here. Everything okay?” You’ve changed out of the tank top and into an awful t-shirt with the Hawkins High logo and Go Tigers! written across it in big letters. He prefers the bloody tank top. The wounds on your arms look clean and he spots several bandages over the worse ones.

“I can’t move.”

“Shit. One second.” You duck through the horizontal doorway and are by his side almost instantly. Kneeling in front of him, a look of concern crosses your face. “What’s going on? Can you not move a specific body party or just in general?”

“General.”

“Alright. I’ll roll you onto your back then. Ready?”

“No.”

You do it anyway and every muscle in his body screams in protest. He yells out, letting loose a smattering of swears in a high-pitched angry voice. “Sorry!” you say, forcing his legs out of the fetal position. “Sorry, sorry! My bad! Figured it was best to just do it fast!”

“I’m in pain so I’m going to let that go and not make a dirty joke. Just know I was thinking it.” Now that he’s lying flat on his back and his legs are stretched out, he feels a little bit better. But still can barely move without something pulling or protesting. “Fuck, this isn’t good.”

“I’m no doctor but, pretty sure you’re not going anywhere until your body’s had time to heal.”

“We’re stuck in another dimension with a homicidal madman who is bent on world domination and can astral project into people’s minds. I don’t have time to heal.”

“Yeah, well, you also don’t have a choice, Munson. Neither one of us does.”

Eddie sighs heavily. “I guess I can’t argue since I can’t even fucking stand, which poses a whole new set of problems.”

“Like what?”

“I have to take a piss.”

“Yeah, I was afraid of that. I had the same problem earlier so I had to make some changes to the bathroom. I’ll help you up.” You lean forward, ready to take his hand when you pause and add, “But I’m not helping you pee. That you’ll have to do on your own.”

“Terrible customer service. I’m complaining to your manager.”

“Oh, shut up.”

It takes a couple of tries and a lot of pain to get Eddie off the floor and to his feet. His steps are slow and stunted, like a toddler learning to walk for the first time. His joints and muscles are screaming at him to lay back down. But his bladder is calling the shots and he really doesn’t feel like wetting his pants in front of the hot chick who saved his life. Slowly, and using the wall for added support, he lets you lead him to the small bathroom in the back.

When you said you made some changes, he thought you meant that you dug a hole or something. You did dig a hole, but you also ripped the toilet off the ceiling and stuck it right over the crack in the cheap plaster on what is now the floor. Once on the left wall, now the sink is on the ceiling, thankfully still secured in place.

“The sink sort of works. It at least drips some water when you turn the nozzles. Also, we have another weapon,” you tell him, holding up a piece of piping, no doubt what you used to bust through the wall.  

“Maybe the sink doesn’t work because you broke off a fucking pipe.”

“Nah, this one went to the toilet. I think. Oh well, it was loose anyway and we can’t keep sharing the one spear.”

“Alright, Wonder Woman. I think you need to go take a break.”

“I’m fine.”

Bullshit. Absolute, bullshit. Eddie may not know much, but he knows exhaustion when he sees it. His uncle works non-stop and gets burnt out pretty quickly. He can recognize the signs well by this point. You’re exhausted to the point of hysteria. Your hands are shaking and if you weren’t in the Upside Down, he would think you were on something. Hell, you actually could be on something but he doubts it.

“You yanked a toilet off the ceiling and are waving a pipe around,” Eddie says. “We’re going to talk more about how not fine you are right after I finish in here.”

“I should probably give you some privacy then.”

“Yeah, probably.”

You duck out of the bathroom, pulling the door closed on your way out. Eddie desperately needs to lay back down so he uses the bathroom fast. He checks out the ceiling-sink and when he turns the nozzle, a small trickle of water comes out like you said it would. Realizing how utterly gross he feels, Eddie decides to take advantage of the opportunity. He carefully takes off his jacket and slings it over the toilet tank. Trying to avoid soaking his bandages, which isn’t difficult given the little bit of water he’s actually getting, he does his best to wash the grime and blood from himself.  

It's a slow process but once he’s done, he feels better and uses paper towels to dry himself off. He’s not in any rush to put his jacket back on, intent on checking and changing his bandages once he’s sitting back down. Eddie slings his jacket over his arm.

Using the walls for support, he carefully makes his way out of the bathroom. He expects you to be right there, but you’re not. You’re on the other side of the room where he was laying, spreading clothing on the floor. Now that he can properly take in the store, he realizes just how much you’ve done. He would be impressed if he wasn’t incredibly worried about your mental health.

“What are you doing now?” he asks, inching his way back towards you, resting most of his weight on the wall.

“Laying down some clothes for some cushion. It’s not much, only a few shirts I found in the back. Speaking of which, I have a shirt for you.” You hold up a shirt that matches the one you’re wearing.

“Yeah, I’m not wearing that.”

“Why not?”

“Not my style.”

You roll your eyes but toss the shirt onto the pile. “You really should cover your bandages. But let’s check them first. I found some antibacterial ointment that should help.

“I can handle that. You really should take a nap.” Once again you wave him off and keep putting together the makeshift bed. Eddie’s not letting it slide though. When he finally makes it to you, he reaches out to put his hands on your shoulders. “Stop, just…stop for a second.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, you really need to lay down and I want to make sure you’re not on the dirty floor.”

“It doesn’t matter. Seriously, just chill for a second.”

“NO, Eddie, I can’t!” your voice is sharp and tinged with anger. Your hands are shaking as you keep trying to fiddle with the makeshift bed. You’re not even looking at him as you speak. “I have to do something. I can’t…we’re stuck here and you’re hurt and so I have to be useful. I have to take care of things.”

With great difficulty, Eddie crouches down to your level, turning you around to face him. “You need to take care of yourself,” he says. “Weren’t you just trying to tell me the same thing? If I can’t sacrifice myself to take care of you then you can’t sacrifice yourself to take care of me.”

“But—”

Eddie shushes you, using the same voice he uses on his Hellfire clubmates. “Shhh! No! Stop it. Don’t argue. Just, fucking sit and stay still for a second.”

With no other choice, you sigh and nod. The two of you sit down together. His body relaxes the moment he’s no longer crouching. Eddie leans his back against the wall and pulls you along with him so that you’re tucked into his side.

“See, this isn’t so bad,” he says, sliding his arm around your shoulders and giving you a reassuring smile.

“No, I guess not.”

“Good. I’m glad. Now, do you want to tell me why you doubled our barricade then proceeded to clean like a crazy person?”

You don’t answer right away and Eddie begins to wonder if you ever will when you say in a small voice, “There was something outside.”

Eddie’s smile immediately fades. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t get a clear visual. I was too scared to move. But I could hear it. It wandered around the building and came up to the doors. I thought…” Your voice cracks.

Oh. That explains it.

Eddie pulls you into a hug. Whether it’s the gentle touch or the realization of what you experienced, he’s not sure but as soon as he does, you start to cry. You don’t have to finish your sentence. He gets it. He understands. You were thrust into a world you didn’t know existed and immediately had to fight for your life. Seriously, if anyone understood it was Eddie. He thinks back to his days on the run, hiding out at Reefer Rick’s cabin, not knowing if Jason and his goons were going to find him, all the while picturing Chrissy on the ceiling. He lost count of the number of times he cried.

“It’s alright, you’re okay,” he says, rubbing your arm comfortingly. “I know what you’re feeling. Trust me. I get it.”

“Yeah, I suppose you do.”

You wrap your arm around his waist and hug him back, your cheek pressed to his chest. The skin-on-skin contact makes Eddie suck in a breath. It’s been a while since he’s had that kind of human contact and it takes him by surprise how much his body responds to it. His arms circle you tighter and he presses his face to the top of your head, closing his eyes and savoring the moment.

“I keep picturing those bats diving at me,” you say between sobs.

His mind flashes back to the swarm taking him down as he tried to save Dustin. “Me too.”

“I almost woke you when the thing showed up, but it moved on.”

Eddie has the mental image of you, scared in the dark, shaking like you are now and he hates it. Hates that you were terrified while he slept. “Next time, wake me up, no matter what. Okay?”

“Okay.”

There’s a stretch of silence, time where you both are taking in what’s happened. Fuck, a week ago the only thing Eddie needed to think about was passing Ms. O’Donnell’s final and now he’s locked in a convenience store, trying to keep literal monsters at bay. You’ve had your world literally turned upside down in the span of one day. It’s a wonder you two aren’t fully insane already. He looks around, taking in what you’ve done to the place.

“The store looks good.”

You give a weak chuckle, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “Thanks. It started when I was looking for more bandages and then, the next thing I knew, I was organizing everything.”

“Don’t forget, you also ripped a toilet off the fucking wall. Well, ceiling I guess. That’s pretty badass and very Incredible Hulk of you.”

“It was half-off anyway. I just ripped it the rest of the way.”

“And then ripped the pipe out.”

“We needed another weapon!”

Eddie smiles and affectionately shakes his head. “You’re an interesting woman, sweetheart.”

“Is that good or bad?”

He hopes you don’t hear the way his heart skips a beat. Clearing his throat, he says, “It’s good.”

You don’t say anything in response. Your body is trembling and he can feel the warm tears against his chest. After a while, the tears stop and when he listens closely, he can hear you breathing steadily. Carefully he draws back a little to glance down at you, only to find that you’re fast asleep. Oh noooo. Guess he has to just sit there and hold you while you sleep.

Eddie could use a few more hours himself, but since you mentioned there was something skulking around outside, he decides that sleeping in shifts is probably a better idea, at least for right now. Not that he can do much if something does happen. Unfortunately, after sitting that way for some time, his body starts to cramp up again and he realizes he needs to stretch out.

And probably grab some painkillers from your neat stack of medical supplies.

What comes next is Eddie spending an obscenely long time trying to move without disturbing you too much. Which is incredibly difficult not just because you’re resting against him, but because he can hardly move in the first place. Also, your arms are securely fastened around his waist and in any other situation, he would stay there until the end of time.

Gently, and going as slow as possible, Eddie regrettably pries your arms off. Next, he takes one of the shirts you laid out and slips it under your head. You move a little and mumble something, making him freeze. But then you’re still again and he keeps going. Biting his tongue in concentration, Eddie very carefully shuffles out from under you, while also supporting your head. It takes way longer than it probably would have if he wasn’t injured, but eventually, he’s able to lay you down on the floor without waking you up.

Of course, now he’s chilly without the warmth of your skin touching his.

Don’t think about that. Not the time, Eddie, he tells himself.

Picking up his leather jacket, he lays it over you like a blanket. Begrudgingly, he puts on the Hawkins High shirt to combat the cold. Thank god no one is around to see it.

He takes a few painkillers and chugs some more water before changing his bandages. Thankfully, you did a fairly decent job of sewing him up and there aren’t too many cuts leaking through. At least he’s not actively bleeding anymore. That’s a plus. Even though he needs to lay down, he has a smoke and pokes around looking for something to eat. Smiling to himself, he sees that you organized all the food into meals: a sandwich, some chips, a can of fruit, and a bottle of water. You even set one aside for him with double the chips, which he knows because you labeled it with a post-it note saying: for Eddie.

Damn it. You need to stop being cute or he’s not going to make it out of this without becoming your willing slave.

He does think it’s a bit much that you transferred the chips into plastic baggies. Until he accidentally steps on one of the discarded bags it makes a loud crinkling sound. Fuck, you’re smart. He wouldn’t have thought of that. Of course, you wouldn’t want to take the chip bags with you. Imagine being killed in the Upside Down because you opened a loud bag of chips for a snack.

Quietly, he sits and props himself against the wall again, eating and smoking while he watches the front door. He’s not sure what you saw but El’s mention of demogorgons keeps replaying in his mind. Those fuckers are terrifying in a fantasy game. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do if he sees one in real life. Or when, because he’s not naive enough to think the bats are the only thing stalking the area.

On more than one occasion, his eyes slide over to watch you sleep.

Eddie has had his fair share of dalliances. Nothing serious, nothing beyond the occasional fling with a guy or girl he met at a party or backstage after a show. He’s shared his bed, not as many times as he’d like people to believe, but he hasn’t slept next to someone. At least, not on purpose and not someone who he didn’t have to rush and sneak out the door the next morning while his uncle slept.

Once he’s done eating and stubs out his cigarette, Eddie stretches out next to you on the floor and his muscles finally weep with joy. The moment he gets as comfortable as he can, he knows he won’t be able to get up for a while. You haven’t moved an inch, a testament to how fucking exhausted you must be. It breaks his heart thinking of you in a cleaning frenzy, trying to keep your body going so your thoughts don’t consume you. While the cleaning part doesn’t resonate, the other part does.

Eddie forces himself to turn on his side to face you, tucking his hands under his cheek.

He studies the lines of your face, admires the calm expression, and frowns when your forehead wrinkles and you make a noise. Eleven protected his mind from nightmares but he doesn’t know if that’s a one-time thing. And clearly, your mind isn’t being protected the same way. If he gets a chance to talk to her again, he’ll tell her to focus on you instead of him. He can handle the nightmares, he’s done it before. Reaching out, he lays his hand over yours and the moment he makes physical contact, you relax again.

Oh yeah, he is in so much trouble.

He barely knows anything about you, including whether or not you’re even available. Plus, there’s the whole “fighting for your lives” thing.

Yeah, this tracks.

Since when has Eddie Munson’s love life not been a total messy disaster?

Eddie lays there for a long time, occasionally looking over at the door but mostly he watches you sleep. Eventually, his eyelids grow heavy and he knows he’s not going to be able to hold off dozing for much longer. At the same time, he loathes the thought of waking you. You haven’t gotten nearly as much rest as he did.

He holds on for another hour before reaching over to gently pat your cheek. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Time to wake up.”

You groan with disappointment. “Noooo.” You grab the edge of his jacket and snuggle down into it.

Eddie is about two seconds away from asking you to marry him. “Well, you can go back to sleep but I’m not gonna be able to stay awake for much longer,” he says. “Unless you don’t mind neither of us keeping watch.” He hopes you'll stay asleep. Maybe he can even slip his arm around you if you're up for it.

With a sigh, you open your eyes, barely reacting to the fact that he’s lying so close to you. “It’s fine, I’m awake. I’m awake. Anything going on?”

Eddie shakes his head. “All is quiet.” He sees the way your body tenses and then relaxes when he tells you everything is clear. “Thanks for the meal.”

“Don’t mention it. I should probably eat something too.”

“After, will you make sure you just sit for a bit? Like, read a magazine or something.”

“We’re in an alternate dimension and you expect me to read Just Seventeen?”

“No, of course not. There’s also Playboy.”

You roll your eyes and playfully shove his head away. “Get some rest, Munson.” You sit up with a groan, his jacket still loosely around your shoulders, a sound and visual that he totally doesn’t think about for way too long. The jacket slips when you stretch your arms above your head. “Thanks for the coat.”

Eddie averts his gaze when your shirt rides up just a little, just enough to show a flash of skin. “You’re welcome. I will rest but only if you promise not to go on another cleaning spree,” he says, taking the jacket as you hand it back to him.

“Nope, can’t make that promise.”

Eddie sighs and starts to force himself to sit up. “Alright, well, guess I’m not going to sleep then.”

“Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?” you say, trying to stop him from moving. “You need to lay down.”

“If you’re not going to rest then neither am I.”

“You can’t be serious…”

Eddie raises his eyebrow. “Try me,” he challenges.

There’s a beat of silence, a moment of contemplation where you study him through narrowed eyes, trying to see if he’s messing with you or if he is really willing to hurt himself just to get you to take it easy. When he makes another move to get up, you finally break. “Okay, okay, fine. I won’t clean,” you say. “Just, lay down and don’t hurt yourself.”

“Oh thank god,” Eddie says, laying down with a dramatic huff. “I was totally bluffing.”

“You ass.”

“Seriously, though. Will you rest?”

“Yes, Eddie. God, I will take it easy.” You draw an X over your chest. “Cross my heart.”

“If I wake up and this place is cleaner, you’re in big trouble.”

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, Munson? Spank me?”

Eddie swears his heart nearly leaps out of his chest and the mental image of you bent over with his hand leaving an outline on your ass makes him take a second too long to answer. And when he does, he can’t stop himself from saying, “Well, I mean, if you’re into that, sure. But I don’t do any kinky shit without a safe word.”

You laugh. Not the quiet laugh he’s heard before, but a loud one that has you covering your mouth. “Oh my god, you’re the worst. Go to sleep.”

You get up, shaking your head and still chuckling to yourself. Eddie can’t help grinning, making himself as comfortable as he can on a bed made of thin t-shirts and a leather jacket for a blanket. “That wasn’t a no!” he says over his shoulder.

You laugh again, muttering to yourself, “My God, this man, I swear…”

Still grinning from ear to ear, Eddie closes his eyes, preparing for sleep. It takes him a while to quiet his mind as he listens to you grab something to eat and then set yourself up against the wall again. However, even when he starts to drift off, the smile is still in place because he is one-hundred percent right: that wasn’t a no.

Taglist

@thirddeadlysin @imagine-all-the-imagines @ladymunson @daddychicka @nerdboylover @witchymoonbabe @fangirling-4-ever @sadbitchfangirl​ @endurexxsurvive​ @justtryingtobecreative @toobsessedsstuff @sweetpeapod @perlaluna​ @kaiscumsock @alanangels @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual​ @eddieswifu​ @kokokabana-blog @ruinedbythehobbit @persephone13

[skellebonez]

14. With a possessed monkie kid? (Doesn't have to be my au, i just crave possession stuff rn fbsbfb)

Oh you gave me so much power. I have too much power. I had to write this ASAP before Friday, I did not want the idea I had to be tempered by what happens in the finale. Since this is supposed to be set a couple weeks after what could possibly happen. Spoilers if you haven’t read the summary for S2E10.

This may not be in your Possession AU, but it takes a little inspiration from it because I love it!

Warning: vaguely described injuries, blood. Reminder that I think Macaque can be severely hurt but is immortal to the point he can heal any injury.

Am I scaring you?

“Hey- don’t scream it’s just me- You guys seen MK around?”

Despite Macaque’s request, Pigsy and Tang continued to scream. It wasn’t surprising, really. It wasn’t every day that an enemy your friend/person you see as a son just revealed to you a couple weeks earlier had attacked him twice in ways that had left him pretty messed up and questioning his choices and abilities just pops their body from the shoulders up out of the shadows on your wall without warning. Doubly so when very shortly after learning all this that person does a heel face turn and joins your side without technically joining it against everyone’s will and is still kind of an asshole.

The immortal monkey needed to work on that last bit. Maybe he could upgrade from “asshole” to “jerk face” in the eyes of Team MK if he brought drinks. He didn’t really care though, he just wanted to make his own life easier. At least Wukong had been... somewhat open to letting him stick around, given MK convinced them to talk when they were too exhausted after the giant mech battle to actually fight each other, and that made their joint training sessions with MK much easier. That still took getting used to.

"Has MK been acting... off to you lately?" Macaque asked after Tang and Pigsy stopped screaming and levied him with unhappy glowers at the intrusion. One more note to add on the ‘things he should probably stop doing if people want to not hate him’ list, announcing himself better. "I know I'm kinda knew to this whole ‘technically not being a bad guy and caring a bit about other people’ thing and all but he seems..."

‘Not being a bad guy’. Nailed it.

"Dead inside?" Tang deadpanned. "Yeah, we kinda noticed."

“A little more blunt than I was gonna put it but yeah,” Macaque stepped out of the shadows fully, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly as Pigsy grabbed a wooden spoon and held it. A warning that he would not hesitate to chuck it at him at the first excuse he needed. “He’s been acting odd around both me and Wukong. Which, you know, given everything that happened I get it, but he hasn’t come to his last three training sessions at all.”

This, unlike everything else he had said, seemed to make the two men pause.

“What do you mean?” Tang asked, pushing his glasses up and looking at him oddly. “He’s been leaving for those on time like normal.”

“Ah, well, you see,” Macaque chose his next few words carefully. Being honest, truly honest without theatrics or planning in advance to help him, was a new undertaking for him so he stumbled through it. “The first time it happened Wukong astral projected to him and they talked and he seemed ok enough, like he just needed a break. The next time it happened I kinda... followed him? Just to make sure he was ok, no evil shadow business! He just kinda wandered downtown the entire time, looking like he was lost without being lost. If that makes sense. But yesterday he did the same thing so I did the same thing and I found him just kinda... sitting in front of the entrance to DBK’s old hideout?”

Instead of making the two men more concerned, this seemed to make them both deflate.

“Yeah...” Pigsy said softly, lowering the spoon just a bit. “He’s been doing that. We, uh... we had Mei follow him a couple times on deliveries because he was acting off. He did the sitting thing a few days ago too, just while he was on break or if he finished his deliveries early. He’s been doing that a lot lately, like he wants to get things done fast so he can do whatever he’s doing.”

“But he isn’t even doing anything!” Tang said, gripping his hair with one hand. “It’s like he’s just... sitting? Like he just wants to be alone maybe? Sandy’s been talking to him, trying to help him with the cats and everything, but he thinks he needs to see his therapist instead... I think he’s right.”

Macaque frowned for a second before forcing a wide smile on his face. “I thought so. I think Sandy may have the right idea too, you should talk to him. OK BYE-E!”

Before the two men could react he fell backward into the shadows and dissipated. He had somewhere to be.

~

Just sitting... no. Macaque was sure of it now as he watched MK sitting in front of the hole that still had not been filled since DBK had left the Flaming Foundry, cloaked in shadow behind littered debris. His conversation with the Monkie Kid’s elders confirmed the immortal’s suspicions.

MK was waiting for something.

And that meant something was deeply wrong.

He hadn’t lied to the duo in the noodle shop, but he hadn’t told them the full truth either. Macaque had been following MK for the last week, already knew about Mei himself, partly out of curiosity at first but also out of Wukong’s own insistence. He was worried for his successor and knew that Macaque could keep a quieter eye on him than he ever could, and Wukong... Wukong and MK, despite their renewed training, were not on the best of terms right then. Not after he learned what the vacation really was, not after he learned that his mentor knew about the White Bone Spirit the entire time. They were still close! Closer than MK was to Macaque when he trained him at least, just. Strained.

Watching his two teachers finally talk for once and work out what actually happened all those centuries ago, showing that Wukong wasn’t just an unflappable hero but a person who made mistakes and had worked to better himself and would continue to do so because he was a person, probably softened that a bit. He was still upset but much less so in the week after the defeat... but this last week it was like all that had been undone too quickly. It started slowly, but after four days it was like they were back to the day he learned the truth but so much worse.

For the last three days MK was so quiet, reserved, completely unlike the loud and excited guy Macaque knew and like he just wanted to be left alone to sit and not interact with anyone. Tang said he was acting like he was “dead inside”.

That... wasn’t an entirely incorrect descriptor. It was like he was hollow and just going about the motions. Or like he had closed off everything inside of himself for some reason.

Wukong was terrified. He’d been talking to MK every day he didn’t come to the island to train via astral projection, and Macaque had just watched another conversation between the two end half an hour earlier. Macaque tried the same thing but didn’t get nearly as far as Wukong had been, and talking to him like this seemed to make him less likely to just up and leave (the few times Wukong had just come to MK instead made it clear how uncomfortable he had been, ending the conversations with a quick jump from the staff before Wukong could convince him to stay, so they decided to go with what made him more comfortable to find out what was happening).

So that was how they operated. Macaque watched MK. Made sure he was at least physically ok. Wukong talked to MK, didn’t force him to come to the island and wouldn’t show up unannounced. But despite them communicating more than they ever had it was like he was telling Wukong less than he ever had before. The one thing they didn’t tell him was what Macaque was doing.

“Am I scaring you?” MK suddenly said, loud enough for only Macaque to hear. His tone was... wrong. “You’re not nearly as sneaky as you think you are, Six-Ear.”

“What?” Macaque shot up and out of the shadows, eyes wide. MK had never called him that before.

The man before him stood, back to him and headband and coat oddly still in the blowing wind.

And then he jumped.

“MK!” Macaque reacted without thinking, diving down the hole after his Wukong’s student. He knew that he would be just fine, he could handle being thrown into a mountain so he could handle jumping down a giant hole, but the sight was too sudden and horrific for him to remember that at the moment.

Except he wasn’t there. When Macaque landed, the crash of his boots hitting the rocky ground echoing through the artificial cavern, he was alone.

Something was even more deeply wrong than he could have ever imagined.

“MK! Kid! Kiddo!?” He called out, all six of his ears out to catch any hint of movement. “Come on, you told me off for calling you Kiddo just last week, get angry at me so I know you’re ok! Tell me you’re a Monkey Man or something!” Macaque tried to keep his tone light, words lighter with an awkward laugh at the end of his sentences, but it only served to make the sinking feeling in his stomach worse. The opposite effect he wanted to accomplish. “Say something damn it!”

Silence. Everything was... silent. The only thing Macaque could hear was his own breathing, his own heartbeat, the rushing of blood in his ears... but nothing else.

Then a laugh. Low and soft and wrong and Macaque’s eyes widened as he realized his mistake.

He knew that laugh.

He also knew the feeling of the staff. He felt it during their first battle, when MK pulled every ounce of lingering power to defeat him. He felt it during that climactic encounter with Wukong, when his eye was damaged beyond repair.

He felt it now, as it jutted through his stomach without warning. Covered in blood.

Huh... that was kind of new, actually. He hadn’t felt a new sensation like that in so long.

The staff was pulled back and out of him quickly, driving him to his feet as he held the new wound and listened and nearly imperceptible footsteps made their way around him. How had he not heard... no. No he knew now. Now it was obvious what had happened.

Why did his wound burn like that? Why couldn’t he stand? He should be able to move, he wasn’t this weak!

“He beat you,” He groaned out, coughing as he tried to stay upright on his knees. “You should be-”

“Dead?” MK asked, voice his own but tone completely different. The black on his shoes were blue. As Macaque looked up he could see most of the color on his outfit had faded to white with blue accents. His eyes, the only think about him physically to be different, a brilliant blue to match. His headband was gone from around his head, instead used to help slick his hair back and out of his face. “How can you kill what already isn’t alive? No, I just waited in this body until I was able to influence him enough to make him... compliant. Much easier that way, actually.”

Either his vision went fuzzy or the world around them did, MK moving closer at a speed that shouldn’t be possible. His hands were grasping Macaque’s scarf tightly... this felt far too familiar.

“If you had been the dragon girl or anyone else I might have just killed you, you know,” MK’s voice said as he tilted his head to the side, an almost playful smile on his face. “But this is much more fun, and preferable. You can relay the message for me, once the poison I coated the staff in wears off and you heal anyway.”

Macaque was dropped unceremoniously onto his back, letting out an agonized yelp as he hit the ground. MK stomped on his wound, earning another scream.

“By then myself and this body will be long gone,” MK chuckled, stepping over Macaque completely to walk further into the foundry. “I must thank you, you played into my hands so much better than I ever planned on. Getting you all to work together to ‘beat me’ was just far too easy.” He stopped, turning to smirk at the immortal shuddering on the ground.

“I haven’t had a body this powerful in centuries,” the White Bone Spirit said with a laugh before vanishing in a fuzz of his vision and a wisp of cold air.

[letsbenditlikebennett]

At The Bottom || Solo

TIMING: Current SUMMARY: Living in the Outskirts when reality is warped is tough, especially when a new astral friend decides you’re a great host. 

And there's a lake And at the bottom you'll find all our friends They don't swim cause they're all dead We never are what we intend, or invent

The wet mud was cool against her hands and knees as she fell to the ground. Her scream echoed through the small clearing as her arms reached for Alcher’s lifeless and bloodied body. Ari could feel her bones fighting to shift beneath her skin, fighting to change form and rip Kaden limb from limb for what he took from her. Some tiny shred of consciousness growled at him to go, as if even the wolf knew she couldn’t forgive herself if she retaliated. She was hurt and angry, she wanted him to feel that hurt and anger, but she still cared. A fact that the lifeless body next to her seemed to mock. 

When Kaden ran off as directed, she finally found a moment to breathe. To collect herself and stop herself from shifting here and now. Alcher’s body couldn’t stay here. Any scavenger could get to it and she couldn’t let that happen. She counted each inhale and exhale for five seconds and allowed numbness to take over. The moon was too close to rising and she couldn’t feel everything right now. If she let those emotions slip in, she was sure to shift and leave Alcher’s body to whatever was in the forest tonight. 

When she finally opened her eyes, Ari saw an identical form standing next to the body. “You showed mercy,” she spoke with an air of disgust, “Any wolves that die by his hand will be blood on yours.” 

Even in her disgust, Alcher possessed a quiet rage. She wasn’t the storm. She didn’t come in all thunder and quaking. She was the spark of a controlled flame coming alight. Her own disapproval burned into Ariana’s own mind. She was right, she let Kaden go because she cared too much. Even the hunters she loved were capable of terrible things and the body she now dragged was proof of this. 

Almost as if the older wolf could hear her thoughts, she faded away and was replaced by another familiar face. Ariana had to swallow down the sob that was forming in her throat. The reminders of the mistakes she’d made and the lives they took with them kept arising. Every part of her wanted to reach out to Celeste, to allow her some small form of comfort, but the look on her sister’s face wasn’t a familiar one. She’d never looked at Ari with such malice and disappointment before. “Everyone is capable of terrible things in the right circumstances. Who gets to live or die isn’t your choice to make. That wolf was worse and you know it, but you never had to fight the urge to hurt her.” 

Celeste faded and another unwelcome face appeared before her as she hauled the body back to the farm. This face wore a sinister grin and looked at her with a sense of satisfaction. “She is right. Who gets to live or die should have never been your choice. Was I really worse than the wolf or hunter you’ve given chances to? Getting your little girlfriend to kill me didn’t give you those humans that were rightfully mine.” Lydia’s words mirrored the ones Deirdre spoke to her all those months ago. She knew it was right. As cold and dangerous as Lydia was, she should have never helped orchestrate her murder. She was an accomplice and felt disgusted with herself. 

“Go away,” Ari tried to bark out but it came off as more of a shaky whimper. Alcher’s body was feeling heavier in her arms. She tried peace when she should have fought, and put herself in the middle. She could have saved them.

“You were supposed to save me,” a small voice spoke and she could barely bring herself to look up. Her hands longed to reach out to the familiar man in front of her. 

“Sammy, I’m-”

“Don’t.” 

Against her better judgment, she reached out anyway only to see the look on his face. He was appalled by her. All the big promises she made just for him to die before his first moon. He’d still be alive even if he was slowly dying if she had made a better plan. Asked for help. They both knew it. She felt the shake in her hands now as she fought to keep control of her own body. Claws were itching to come out and tear at something. She didn’t know what, but the guilt was crushing her, squeezing the air out of her lungs. Each gasp sounded haggard and as she was sure she’d never catch it, her eyes shot open. 

It took a moment to recognize her own room as she gasped for air. Her hands were clenched tightly around the bedsheets and her body was drenched in a cold sweat. The pounding in her chest showed no signs of slowing and she was sure if she had anything in her stomach, it would have been gone. The room around her registered and she realized it had only been a nightmare. The room was still black and she glanced at her phone. It was only 3am, but her heart was racing far too much for her to find sleep again. 

Ari paced out to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of bourbon from the small cabinet above the sink. She didn’t bother with a glass, she took the bottle with her over to the couch and slowly sipped at it as she stared ahead at the wall. Some time had passed and she realized she had Luna and Stark on either side of her. It was supposed to be a comfort, but she could hardly feel anything but the heaviness in her limbs sinking into the couch cushions. 

By the time the sun rose, she was drunk and still tired, but she wouldn’t dare close her eyes. It was one thing to blame herself, but seeing their faces filled with such disappointment, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t remember the ones she loved that way. She wouldn’t. She’d stay awake forever if it meant never having to see them so disappointed with everything she was. To see her own self loathing mirrored right back at her. Tomorrow night would be better and if it wasn’t, maybe she could just sneak into Kitty’s room. She probably didn’t deserve that comfort, but against all odds, she was still alive. It’d be selfish to run herself ragged just to escape her own guilt. 

[clayanddust]

Nightjars and Nightshade (Clay and Ariana)

Participants: Ariana Bennett (Hannah-Werewolf), Clay Hale (Tapir-Hunter)

Continued From: Sleepless Above and Below

Location: Hartvlinder Mists (Astral Plane) 

Summary: When Ariana’s guilt takes her deep into the fog of trauma-eating beings, Clay offers her the choice to go numb. 

Content Warning: Memory Loss

Hartvlinder drifted in a thick mist. Each fist-sized mass of tentacle ferns joined thousands of others in feathery fog banks that muffled the outside world. Clay lay in a field of purple nightshade flowers holding a whippoorwill carefully cupped in his hands. The brown-feathered whippoorwill’s warbling whistle sounded out through the belladonna only for the sound to be swallowed up in the Hartvlinder mist. 

Clay stayed there in the mist-shrouded fields of deadly flowers without any concept of time, just listening to the whippoorwill. There was no hurry. There was no sorrow. There was no joy. Clay wasn’t sure if lack of turmoil was really the essence of peace, but he was content, or at least could not feel dissatisfied. 

Clay looked over his shoulder from where he sat as footsteps rustled through the nightshade field. “Heya …Ariana right? From the…” Clay frowned, dark eyebrows scrunching together as he searched from the memory, but placidity soon smoothed his face back into calm. “The uh…y’know.” 

One minute Ari had been running through the familiar patch of brush through the forest and the next she found herself in a disorienting mist. Everything felt just slightly wrong. The ground beneath was not as rugged, the air a little cooler than it had been only moments ago. The smells of the forest had all but faded and she was almost positive she was in another nightmare. 

Ari harshly pinched her own forearm only to grimace in pain and realize she was in fact awake. Which meant either she took a very wrong turn or something White Crest was happening. Whatever it was, she guessed it was just happening now and she didn’t have the energy to fight it. 

She trudged through the mist as if it was normal and ignored the uneasy feeling. Ari whipped her head around when she heard her name and a familiar voice. “Clay,” she asked stunned, “What are you doing here?” Her eyes tried to make out their surroundings through the mist. “And do you know where here is?” 

Clay shook his head. “I’m just …chilling I guess,” the Hunter said with languid uncertainty, as if his purpose for sitting here amidst the nightshade and Hartvlinder swarms had been obvious until Ariana had asked him to actually put it into words. “This is the Hartvlinder fog…I think…like it is, but kinna all…” Clay made a vague wobbly motion with one hand. 

The whippoorwill flew out of Clay's hands and soared into the swarms of ephemeral tentacle ferns. Its brown-feathered form vanished, like the outline of a stone sinking into the sea. Only the stochastic whistling that occasionally escaped the floating masses of Hartvlinder proved Ariana and Clay weren’t alone in an island meadow of nightshade. 

“What brought you here?”

The explanation only made Ari more confused. The field of nightshade they were in didn’t feel like the forest. It wasn’t something she could quite put her finger on. It didn’t smell right and everything felt muted. Her instincts were fogged by literal fog, not that it made any sense. In White Crest, she learned sense was irrelevant. Sense said they had to still be in the forest, but it felt more and more like that wasn’t true. “Chilling,” she said slowly as she tried to wrap her mind around what Clay could possibly mean. He was a bit cryptic, but she figured that something to do with the heart thing he had mentioned. 

“Harvlinder fog,” Ari started as she remembered how clay had framed the whole heart thing, “Like the legend you mentioned, the fog that steals hearts?” It would explain why everything around her felt dulled. Some small part of her mind screamed she should be more alarmed by that than she was. It was enough for her try and figure out a way out. “So,” she asked unsurely, “How do we get out of the fog?” 

“Stealing?” Clay shrugged with lackadaisical slowness. “Sure if you walk into the drifts there the Harvlinder might latch on,” he affirmed while gazing into the undulating coils within coils of incandescent floating ferns. It was easy to get lost in those spiraling tentacle fronds, to just let your eyes slide down, around, and deeper along the whorls. “But a lot of people give their hearts willingly, the mist offers a kinna freedom I guess,” he mused in the slothful trailing off of someone who could have put the thought more clearly, but gave up halfway through.``

“You sure you want to leave?” 

How could someone make so much sense and none all in the same breath. Ari thought over what he said. There wasn’t a clear answer on how to escape the fog and she felt oddly calm about the possibility. She took a step closer and felt her body conflicted on whether she should just plop down or run. “Stealing… And what happens if the Har- Harv-,” she tried to wrap her head on how the fuck it sounded when Clay said, “What happens if it latches on to you?” 

The next part was what really made Ari contemplate accepting the situation. People gave their hearts willingly. Would it really be so bad to not feel the crushing weight of guilt and grief every day of her life? She wouldn’t have to worry about her deteriorating mental health affecting the control she had over shifts outside the moon. “I’m not sure,” she admitted quietly. It was tempting, very tempting and some small bit of logic told her there had to be a catch. There always was. She also knew she deserved the pain she lived with, but what if she could just let it go? “What is it like… not having your heart?” 

Clay stayed where he sat among the violet belladonna blossoms, leaning back on his hands as if he were watching a sunset on a hill. “Plants get energy from the sun and whatnot obviously,” Clay said with an air of balanity that belied the extraordinary circumstances. “But Harvlinder take anguish through their squiggy frond things like a plant root would water. Sometimes its small like…embarrassment you felt fucking up a speech way back when or whatever. But,” Clay rolled his head from side to side in an ambivalent moment. “Not always.” 

Arianna’s second question drew Clay’s dark eyes up to her, managing to stare his blank gaze away from the claustrophobic horizon of undulating mist. “Uhhhh,” the Hunter’s held dull tone perhaps bore witness in an of itself. “Everything you remember is less intense. There’s no pain, but it can be like paintings with some colors palate missing I guess. Nothing hits as hard,” the soldier confessed, admitting to the true source of his unbreakable bravery. “Which is nice, like it kept going, but uh.” 

Clay shrugged again, returning his gaze back to mists. “Used to draw alot as a kid, sketch shit, birds, cars, mountains, and whatnot,” the man said with a tone of apathetic distance from his own experiences. “But when I draw something it's just…,” said the hunter who could never be a Leanan Sidhe’s prey. “Nothing.” 

 Ari had to listen carefully. She knew it was easy to miss some of the comparisons Clay made, especially seeing as she didn’t get most of the references. Was a creature that fed on anguish and took it away really all that bad? Plants took energy from the sun. Harvlinders took energy from anguish. “I see,” she mumbled as she thought it over, “So they take away your pain, essentially.” 

It was too fucking tempting. Ari knew she deserved to feel this hurt. Even going to bed with a more positive mindset after their last chat didn’t stop the dreams. She was haunted and she had to believe there was a reason. If she couldn’t feel the guilt, could she trust herself to care enough to keep control and not hurt others? Would control even be an issue if she couldn’t feel at all? She let her fingers graze through the flowers that surrounded them. Normally, it grounded her, made her feel more connected to the earth, but nothing here could do that. She listened. It was nice. He didn’t feel any of the pain, but colors were duller. Did it matter that she was already colorblind? 

The more Clay explained the more Ari could wrap her head around it. It made sense, if you couldn’t feel the pain, you couldn’t feel the other emotions like joy and love. Was that really worse? She supposed she had a first hand source. She let out a quiet sigh and plucked one of the flowers. “Is the feeling nothing worse than feeling the pain?” 

Clay laughed, the sound soft and devoid of passion or derision, a lukewarm flicker. “I can feel. I still enjoy things. I still feel all the animal stuff: hunger, thirst, getting hurt,, the endorphin rush after running, and so on,” Clay said, assuming Ariana was worldly enough to extrapolate the other primal experiences without going into them. “But alotta the more mental stuff is still there but uh, not as deep or long lasting I guess.” 

Clay watched his companion run her fingers along the deadly violet blooms in their little meadow. Something seemed to knock at the back of his numbed skull. Perhaps outside of this astral reflection, Clay’s morality might’ve recognized that talking about trauma-sapping fern leeches with a young person who’d admitted to guilt-ridden insomnia wasn’t acceptable. But although the facts of the matter were currently in Clay’s head, they didn’t stir up any bigger picture of what was happening, of why his next words might be unwise. “But no. I had a job to do, one that a ton of people’s lives depended on, but I couldn’t keep going as I was. Harvinder let me become who others needed me to be.” 

The man who’d finally destroyed his monster, but had been left as less than either at the end of his quest, let out a long breath. “Is there something you wanna give the Harvlinder?”

The easier choice was obvious. Glaringly so. Part of Ari longed to take it, longed to know a single minute of peace again. The option was right in front of her for her to grab if she so chose. Even now as she wrestled with the choice, the different whispers in her head made her feel guilt for even considering it. You’re supposed to be better than this. The problem was, she didn’t feel better than anything. People had died because of her, for her, and what did they have to show for it? A lost, slowly spiraling werewolf with no real direction? The part of Clay’s explanation about being who others needed him to be struck her. There were still people that needed her, even if they shouldn’t, and would she be able to be who they needed if she could no longer truly feel? At least properly. “I get that,” she pondered aloud, “Being who others need you to be. And you feel at peace with your decision?” 

Ari wondered if he could even feel peace fully. Clay was thoughtful but had an air of indifference almost. Like things just were what they were. Could she live like that? Could she continue going at the rate she was? The question brought her back from her internal debate. “Oh, I.” she looked down at her hands and tossed away the irritating flowers that left her fingertips itching, “Guilt, I think. My sister died saving me. Two of my friends died because I couldn’t just do what needed to be done and feel like I could live with myself. And I still can’t live with myself, so great call there. I-” She couldn’t even begin to remember the face of the person she mauled during August’s full moon or the fucking tiny fae that made her snap at work. 

“I guess I have a lot of shitty memories of loss and I’m always the one left behind, even when it should have been me. But,” Ari let out a long, shaky breath, “I still have people who need me. I don’t know if I can be what they need if I don’t feel it all.” Even if she wanted so badly not to.

“Not really able to feel otherwise,” Clay reminded with a soft smile touched by a thin curve of playfulness at the edge, unable to see anything wrong with his condition other than a touch of humor. As a boy, Clay had been a class clown who saw humor in the basic awkwardness of what it meant to be human. Now, a zombie apocalypse later, Clay’s humor was touched with a bleakness his more innocent self would’ve recoiled at. “But I guess I’m reassured by checkin’ in on the people who were saved, just knowing how they’re doing makes it more tangible I guess,” said the Hunter whose midnight work often estranged him from the sunlit lives of those he was sworn to protect.  

Clay waited as Ariana thought through things, neither urging nor dissuading. The whippoorwill’s warbling lilted from the mist, giving life to the nightshade meadow’s unnatural stillness. Ariana made her choice in her own time and Clay nodded without surprise or understanding. “Guess, we gotta get you outta here,” the hunter said as he stood up, dusting dreams of petals and leaves off his jeans. 

While the choice was made, Ari couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment. Things could have been easier, but part of her knew the easy choice wasn’t necessarily the right choice. Knowing as much didn’t make turning away simple. It didn’t mean she didn’t long to stop feeling this way all the time. She had to remember the people she loved that were still there. Kitty, Kaden, Kyle, Mina, Emilio, Bex– they deserved a friend who could feel their highs and lows with them. She pushed herself up from the patch of flowers she’d been sitting on. With one last resigned sigh, she said, “I guess we do.” 

Ari looked around through the midst and tried to gather her sense of direction. Things still smelled dulled somehow, surreal. Somewhere in the midst was a path home, a path to the people she loved and swore to herself she’d do anything to protect. She turned to Clay and asked, “Any chance you know the way out of the midst?” 

Clay shook his head. “No, but he does,” the hunter said, pointing to the mist. 

The whippoorwill burst from the fog like a salmon jumping in an evening lake, ethereal Harvlinder tendrils trailing off its brown wings. The bird landed amidst the nightshade blooms and looked up at Clay and Ariana with eyes the exact shade as Clay's own. The songbird’s scrutiny was not the furtive attention of an animal, but rather the focus of someone, or something perhaps, attending to their purpose. 

“Like, I don’t know how,” Clay admitted, perplexed by the strange sense of unspoken ‘knowing’ that often accompanies events in dreams. “But he does.”  

“Who knows,” Ari asked, completely perplexed even as she saw the bird float in front of her. Somehow it only made things even more surreal. She didn’t think this was a dream, it was far too nice even if confusing. What mattered was there was a way out and back to the real world from… wherever this was. She moved closer to her guide and asked earnestly, “Are you coming too?” 

Clay and the whippoorwill exchanged another glance in perfect unison. A silent understanding seemed to pass between Hunter and Fylgja. Clay groaned and rubbed his temples as if suddenly suffering the groggy headache of waking up, the first sign of discomfort he’d shown in this numb eye of the Harvlinder drifts. 

“Yeah I uh,” Clay’s jaw cracked in a graceless yawn. “Think I have folks out there that need me or ..something. Gotta be somewhere,” he said with groggy uncertainty. 

Ari watched as he rubbed his temples and seemed to think over the option. She hoped he followed though she wondered if there was ever any truly escaping the mist for him. He seemed content either way. Or at least not capable of feeling the depth of any discomfort. Part of her couldn’t help but feel sad for him, even in her current ongoing state of lows, she was pretty sure she’d miss the highs. She looked over the field of nightshade with a final grimace. “Off we go then,” she exclaimed, “And, uh, thanks. For this. And for last time too.” 

“No problem, I was just …” Clay began, but the lilting mad song of the whippoorwill grew in intensity, rising and falling with a warbling cacophony  that swallowed up everything. 

[plateauofmemories]

Now that I’ve played through all of them once, here is my ranking of the routes by how much Asra is Going Through It in each one

*Please note that I did not take any paid choice options at any point so there is still lore that is Hidden to me

5. Muriel: Asra gets to watch the two people he cares about most fall in love, help each other heal, and make each other happy. One of his favorite pastimes (teasing you or Muriel) has become twice as easy and three times as fun. Muriel handles the entire “you died and Asra brought you back to life” discussion for this route. And Asra has even reconciled with Julian while you and Muriel were out hunting goats. Truly the gentlest route for Asra’s heart.

4. Nadia/Portia: I’m calling these two routes a tie. Asra’s presence is sort of minimal in each of them, but in each you are falling in love with someone of good character (Nadia is an old friend, after all, even if they’re strangers now, and Portia is reliable and easy to like). Both times he has to cope with a malicious actor telling you about the whole “you died and came back to life” bit before he does. Since Nadia’s route follows the same broad plot as the other first main routes, the apocalypse of the hour probably hits closer to Asra’s feelings than like, Tasya’s new world, but also he’s hooked up with Muriel in the upright end so like. I'm still calling it even.

3. Asra: His own route obviously involves confronting a LOT of Feelings about you and your forgotten past and that desperate, desperate time in his life 3 years ago. At the same time, you are facing it together, finally clearing the mysteries between you and growing closer. You also get to save his parents, which is Good but also A Lot, and there is that brief time when Faust is in the bad danger. It's rough, but much of it has been a long time coming and Asra has support to help cope.

2. Julian: So you, Asra's ex-lover who died and was resurrected, and Ilya, the ex-boyfriend whom Asra hooked up with after you died while he was having a messy horrible bad time, are now involved! That's not awkward! Asra and Ilya also ended on bad terms, and he hasn't seen the man in 3 years. And now he's back and causing you heartache. The two of you will later plead with Asra to help you with dangerous magics, and even later than that you and Asra will watch Ilya hang. Asra wants you to be happy, and he even probably wants your boyfriend to stop being miserable, but also like once you all save the world Asra is going to go to his cabin in Nopal and Scream for like. A month straight. Ilya did apologize about the past, so that's nice, but Asra’s heart definitely got put through the wringer first.

1. Lucio: Asra was gone for like, four days, and he comes back and you have. Glued yourself to the ghost of Count Lucio. And then, you want to help him, and Asra wants to help you, so he goes on dangerous adventures to help you and. Count Lucio. Who is referring to the horrible things he did that ruined thousands of lives generally and Asra's life specifically as ""oopsies"". At the same time, you are clearly starting to fall in love with fucking Count Lucio. You get to save Asra's parents, which is again good but very emotional, and also Lucio is there this time so it's, like, worse.

Like, Lucio's impulsive actions nearly get you killed rescuing Chimes and Flamel. When you come to, you immediately start making googly eyes at the erstwhile Count. Asra's gonna puke. He's not even sure if that's possible while one is in their astral body in the magical realms, but now Lucio is nuzzling you and by god if Asra doesn't feel like he could push some arcane frontiers right about now. This is just one episode in a string of many. There’s like 14 chapters of this shit. Incredible that you get through it and Asra’s hasn’t snapped anyone’s neck.

[secret-engima]

....I lied. If you’re still doing the title thing - if I go down gonna burn with the sun

I thought there was a few more title asks still lurking in here for me to answer. *cracks knuckles* RAMBLE TIME.

-Star Wars AU. Star Wars FFXV sorta-x-over AU where the Astrals decide that Aera and Ardyn deserve a chance at happiness, just not on Eos, and therefore go YEET. The Force, finding these two wayward and powerful souls is like- Sure okay and boom. Ardyn and Aera are reborn in a galaxy far, far away.

-Purely not coincidentally, far away, on different worlds and in different star systems, one Satine Kryze and one Obi-Wan Kenobi take their first breaths.

-Yes I’m serious.

-This would be- SUCH a chaotic fixit AU, both because Aera loves peace but she is NO pacifist and not about to let an entire Culture DIE just because some so called New Mandalorians cannot see the dangers of burying their own past. Two because- well.

-Ardyn has already BEEN a Chosen One and an Accursed, a Hero and a Villain. He has walked the path to salvation and damnation both and seen the worst sides of himself and humanity, and for all they look different, every species in the galaxy isn’t far different from humanity in those regards.

-Obi-Wan Kenobi grows up in the Jedi Temple and he is a Troublesome Child. Too quiet and too reckless by turns, a smile that could melt butter and a tongue that can strip flesh from the backs of whatever bully goes after him this time. The Jedi ... worry. He is Dark, they whisper, was born with shreds of Darkness in his soul. He is manipulative, they worry, he has a temper, they gossip.

-Ardyn hears them all and inside a part of him screams. Because of course he is Dark, they did not have their souls swallowed by a plague for others’ sake, were not consumed with madness until dying (being freed) at the hands of a nephew two thousand years removed. As for manipulation ... he doesn’t mean to. It’s just ... he’s so much OLDER than the other children mentally, older even than any Jedi there (even YODA), he can’t help it that he thinks rings around people sometimes, or that he is so in tune with the Force (with a galaxy-spanning magic that burns beneath his skin like a hundred newborn suns that he keeps buried so the Jedi will not sense it so clearly, will not know how strong and old he really is inside) that he can practically read minds and knows what to say to get the best outcome. He has a temper. Who doesn’t? You try being reborn after a lifetime of AGONY and see how patient you are with petty morons and small minded bullies.

-He says none of those things, and when his time grows near to be sent away without a Master, he does not fight it.

-He looks at the shadow of Qui Gon Jinn in the doorway and something in the Force ... sings. Sad and soft. It speaks of heartache and betrayal and a fear of being hurt again. Ardyn can almost FEEL the two paths branching away under his feet, one with Qui Gon in it, and one without, and he does not know which one will bring him less pain.

-Ardyn does not try to impress anyone in the sparring ring, but after he is done, he slips away. He finds Jinn in the garden, trying to meditate, and settles down across from him without invitation.

-Qui Gon opens his eyes in annoyance. He knows that the Council wants him to take a Padawan, and that this one is almost at the age of being moved to the Corps. He expects the boy to beg to become a Padawan, or to try to impress him somehow.

-Instead the boy just smiles, thin and sharp and knowing in a way that makes Qui Gon feel ... exposed. Like every thought and wound in his heart is on display for this child, “The Council wants you to take a Padawan. That’s why they keep making you watch us.” It’s a statement, not a question.

-Qui Gon raises an eyebrow, “And you think I should take you?”

-The boy shrugs, but his blue eyes are still sharp as knives behind his friendly mien and Qui Gon doesn’t like the feeling crawling up his spine, “That’s your choice to make and yours alone. There’s nothing I can say to change your mind one way or the other.”

-“Then why are you here?” He asks suspiciously.

-“Because you’re lonely, and it makes the Force feel sad.” The answer is so blunt, so sure of itself. Qui Gon feels his stomach twist, and old anger makes him snappish without meaning to be (he’s heard of this boy as well, he’s heard that he’s got a manipulative streak and a tendency to twist his Force empathy to his own ends, he’s heard many things).

-(Qui Gon forgets that it is not a good idea, to base judgement on rumors) “I am not, and if I was, I would not need your company to ease it.”

-Obi-Wan Kenobi, Initiate of the Jedi Temple Ardyn Lucis Caelum, Sage and Healer King and Accursed, tilts his head thoughtfully, then nods and stands up, “Then I will take my leave. Take care of yourself, Master Jinn.”

-Initiate Kenobi Ardyn the Accursed and Healer King walks away, and a breath later the Living Force twists, like the snapping of cables, and Qui Gon gets the fleeting, distinct impression that he has failed some kind of very important test.

-Ardyn is assigned to the AgraCorps. A life as a farmer for others awaits him.

-The day before he’s to be shipped off, he walks out one of the Temple’s side-entrances and into the underbelly of Coruscant with only the clothes on his back. He doesn’t look back even once. It takes until the next day for anyone (for his friends, if he can call them friends when they are so much YOUNGER and painfully more innocent than him) to miss him. It takes another day for the Jedi to realize Obi-Wan Kenobi is well and truly missing.

-Deep in Coruscant’s seedy side, at the dockyards manned by those who are less than concerned with legality, a boy in ratty (stolen) clothes asks to be taken aboard as a maintenance worker. He calls himself Ardyn Izunia, and there are no Force Sensitives close enough to feel the sunlike fire burning in his blood as he smiles.

-Skip forward several years and Satine Kryze (Aera) is on the run from Death Watch, civil war is on the horizon and her father asks for Jedi protection to keep her safe.

-The bounty hunter who calls himself Adagium finds her first.

-A sword that glitters like blood and cuts through metal like a lightsaber (that hums-hums-hums with magic none but a Force sensitive can see blazing like bloody fire down the ancient blade) finishes off the Death Watch assassin that Satine hadn’t had the chance to shoot yet, and under his hood, Adagium smiles. Satine stills, head tilted as if listening, then she collapses into the teenage bounty hunter’s arms in joyous tears. Adagium- Ardyn- holds her close and cries with her.

- “I finally found you, My Aera,” he breathes and for a moment he lets his magic loose and it burns like the sun through the Force, lancing through the growing shadows in the Force like they’re fragile paper and somewhere far away Sidious feels Doom™ crawl violently up his spine.

-Aka that Fixit AU where Aera is a Mand’alor that DOES want peace for her people but NOT at the cost of burning history to the ground (or being defenseless, she has died to the sword once already she will not go quietly into the night a second time, not if she has to paint the walls in blood to protect her life and the lives of her people), the Jedi are Confused™, and Ardyn is incredibly content to be Aera’s former bounty hunter trophy husband with a tendency to adopt strays (read: Anakin and Shmi who he frees as well as Anakin kthanks, and quite possibly Savage and Feral too tho no one is quite sure how) until the Clone Wars start and Ardyn takes one (1) look at the war and goes: ah. I know this plan. This is a stupid plan. And all of Sidious’s plans go fwoosh.

-Because I’m sorry but there is no way you can convince me that Ardyn wouldn’t EAT SIDIOUS ALIVE in any kind of fight, mental, physical, Force, or tactical. This man is 2k years old. It took Sidious until he was an old sack of bones to get his Empire and that was with GENERATIONS of Sith serving as his foundation, and then he got yote down a reactor shaft by his minion 19-25 years later. Ardyn was able to manipulate an entire Empire into engineering its destruction and fulfill ALL HIS REVENGE GOALS (giving Bahamut a headache, driving the world to darkness and ruin, and ending the line of Lucis Caelum INCLUDING HIMSELF) in like- 30-40 years. While MENTALLY AND PHYSICALLY ILL thanks to the Scourge. Fully healthy and in control of himself and with people (Aera) to protect? Sidious would just be fresh meat.

-Also Ardyn adopts a bunch of the clones, possibly all the clones, on the excuse that since they were raised by Mandalorian trainers they count as Mandalorians and as genetic sons of Jango Fett that makes the Mandalorian CITIZENS by BIRTHRIGHT and the Republic can only watch in confusion as their army gets mass adopted by the Mand’alor’s trophy husband who also exposed their new Chancellor as a Sith. Bail Organa, the new Chancellor, may or may not be sweating quietly at the thought of accidentally gaining the ire of the so called Trophy Husband because he’s smarter than most and knows that Ardyn is Very Very Dangerous.

-Also also Qui Gon doesn’t die somehow because I do really like him and I think he’s a good Jedi, just not a good fit for Ardyn as a master.

[mrslittletall]

Oh, sorry about that last ask, honestly forgot about fandom asdhyhyd um, same number, but bloodborne and the orphan of kos? weird choice i know

Title: Mindless Fandom: Bloodborne Characters: Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower, Orphan of Kos Word Count: 2.270 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30595280

Summary: After her death, Lady Maria is stuck in a nightmare. After she finds out, that the Hamlet is behind the place she has awoken in, she goes investigating.

(Author's note:

14: Mindless

It is incredibly difficult to come up with something for a boss that exists only as some kind of concept in a nightmare, so I decided to go with an outsider POV for this. So, this might have turned more into a Lady Maria character study, so sorry if that wasn't what you were looking for, anon. It was just the only way I could think about how to make this prompt work.)

Maria had died, but she hadn't found peace.

She had awoken again, in the very clocktower in which she had taken her own life. Around her, the research hall, housing all the patients, the... the experiments. Maria had always refused to call them like this, she always had treated them as humans, regardless of how much the church was dehumanizing them.

Maria had tried to get out of the Research Hall. She needed to see where she was. She was sure that she had died, but the Research Hall looked like an exact copy of what she remembered. She made it through a prison block, one of the Healing Church and once she stepped outside, she knew that she indeed had died.

What laid in front of her, was a nightmarish version of Yharnam, mostly of Cathedral Ward. A fake light shone down on it, a pale, lifeless light and as she wandered through it, hunters and beasts were locked in an eternal battle. This place truly was a nightmare... a nightmare for hunters, and Maria had been a hunter herself.

True, she had quit the job, cast her weapon away and turned to comfort the patients in the Research Hall, but when she looked down at her hip, she could see the very same Rakuyo she had cast away and she was clothed in her garb, right up to the feathered hat.

Maria returned to the clocktower and sat down, waiting. She was dead and wasn't getting hungry or thirsty or tired. Most of the time she did just... think. Think about how her death had affected the ones she left behind. Gehrman, Micolash, Laurence... Adeline, the blood saint in the Research Hall she had taken a liking too. She was here as well, at least a version of her that her mind must have been fabricated. Maria felt that the Research Hall was her own personal hell, like the hunters outside were locked into an endless cycle of the hunt.

Maria could hear it. The sounds behind the big clock. The rushing of waves. The dripping of water. She could smell it, the faint smell of salt and the much more prominent smell of rotten fish.

She knew that behind the door there would lay something that scared her even more than the Research Hall... but one day she couldn't bear it anymore. She needed to know.

So Maria got up from her chair, in which she must have sat for days. Or weeks. Or months. Or years. Time wasn't a concept in this place, so she didn't know, only that it had been a long time.

She faced the structure behind her and held up an item known as the celestial dial, knowing that it would open the way. After the hole had fully opened, Maria took a deep breath, even though she didn't need to breathe anymore and stepped through it.

There was a small cave, but once she traversed it, Maria saw her true nightmare right in front of her eyes.

The Fishing Hamlet...

It felt like ages had passed since she had been sent here alongside Gehrman. Because of their combat prowess they had been chosen to take care of any attacks, so that the scholars could work unhindered. Maria hadn't questioned it back then. She had trusted Master Willem's word, that they were doing the right thing, that the villagers of the Hamlet were in the wrong for keeping the treasure of the stranded Great One for themselves.

That it had been Byrgenwerth and not the Healing Church, made the whole thing even worse. The Healing Church hadn't even existed back then. Laurence had been in the middle of his blood research, having been excluded from the trip, because Master Willem had been against it. Of course the sneaky bastard still had found a way to follow them and harvest the blood of the Great One while everyone else had been distracted. Still, Maria had acted under the order of Byrgenwerth. She had done atrocious things in the name of knowledge... atrocious things she wanted to absolve while serving the Church, only to realize that she had gone from serving one monster to serve another monster. Still, she could have believed it far more if the Healing Church had been the one to attack the Hamlet.

In a sense, the Healing Church started in Byrgenwerth, so she shouldn't be too surprised.

Maria continued walking, the shallow water washing around her boot, cold water dousing her feet. There was a figure limping forward, mumbling something about Byrgenwerth, but when she stayed to listen, she quickly realized that they didn't notice her, forever caught in their ramblings.

Approaching the village, Maria's hands encompassed her Rakuyo. She couldn't preclude the possibility that the nightmare had conjured the villagers, the one Willem had let cut open to search for eyes in their brain, to attack anyone approaching their sanctuary.

For some reason, nobody disturbed her. She could cross the village without fail. Sometimes she heard sounds, the splashing of water, the shuffling of feet, the creaking of wood... along with the prominent smell of fish, that had dried on land for a little too long, but nobody ever stood in her way.

Maria stopped when she came upon a certain well. She knew this well. That had been the well she had tossed her Rakuyo in. Once again, her grip around her Rakuyo tightened. She knew that her gear wasn't real, and was a fabrication of the dream, but she asked herself if she still would find a Rakuyo in there... her Rakuyo...

Maria had to wrest herself free from her thoughts. This wasn't why she had come here. She had another goal.

So, she continued walking, each step filling her boots with more water, until her feet were freezing and her whole body shivered, even though she knew that she wasn't alive anymore. Her body still made her believe that she was alive...

Maria stepped out of the cave, approaching the corpse on the shore. Kos, the Great One they had come here for. The Great One which Laurence had harvested the blood from. The Great One which Willem had cut open to take a piece of her unborn child...

All Great Ones lose their children and long for a surrogate. The thought was predominant in Maria's head. Did they really lose their children or did humans take them? A question that she would never get an answer too...

She didn't even know why she had come here. To make up for her crimes? To get answers? That was something she could never make up for. Maybe she had simply come to apologize.

So, Maria kneeled down in front of Kos and folded her hands in prayer, when something stirred inside the dead body.

Maria was on her feet immediately, her Rakuyo on the ready, her eyes fixated on Kos' stomach.

Something... crawled out of Kos, no... it looked... looked like she gave birth. But that couldn't be. She knew that the child had been dead. She had been a part of killing it. Maria gasped as the creature was completely “born” and slowly got up. That wasn't... that surely didn't look like a child. It was large, with grey skin, managed to step up on two feet and... actually still was connected to the placenta of its mother.

It looked like the most nightmarish thing she had seen and she was currently stuck in a nightmare.

Still, the way it stood there, the way it seemed to wail, that was nothing but a lost, confused and scared child.

Maria lowered her Rakuyo and took a step closer.

“Hey.”, she said. “I am not here to-”

Before she could even finish her sentence the child approached her with a blood-curdling scream. Maria gasped in shock and surprise and stepped out of the way, to not be crushed by this giant placenta, that the creature used like a mace.

“I am not here to fight!”, she screamed, trying to drown out their screams. “I want to talk!”

She didn't have any luck. The creature continued to attack her and with Maria refusing to fight back, she quickly became overwhelmed and felt how her body got crushed under the “club” of the creature.

When she awoke, she was back in the Astral Clocktower. She let out a deep sigh, of course she wouldn't be able to escape this nightmare by dying in it. She was forced to come back again and again, just like the hunters and the beasts.

She very well remembered what had happened. The creature... the child... They had attacked her. Did they think she was responsible for the death of their mother? While Maria wasn't responsible for Kos' death, the Great One had been dead when they found her, she was responsible for the death of the child.

The child couldn't know that. It got born, saw a dead mother and attacked the first person they thought responsible. In their sense, they were an orphan and upset about it. There were so many things Maria didn't know about the Great Ones, but she was sure that they wouldn't differ in wanting to have the comfort of their parents.

Maria decided to meet the orphan another time and see if she could help. They didn't want to listen to her. They probably weren't aware of them being in a nightmare and Maria just wanted to help.

So she went to the shore another time. The Orphan of Kos, Maria had decided to call them like that, was still there. As soon as she approached them, they were back at attacking her.

“Stop it!”, Maria screamed. “I know you have every right to hate me, but it won't do anything good! We are both stuck in a nightmare!”

Again, Maria was struck down and woke up at the Astral Clocktower. Again, Maria went back to meet the Orphan of Kos.

This time she fought back. If the Orphan didn't want to listen, she would make it listen and if that meant to beat some sense into it, so that it would finally stop attacking her.

Maria had to learn the hard way that the Orphan only got stronger the more it got cornered. She still felt the aftershock of its electric attack when she woke up in her chair again.

Their encounters continued like that. Maria knew that she would be able to just strike the Orphan down if she would get all out, but she despised using her blood powers and she didn't want to strike them down, she wanted to talk. She only fought because the Orphan didn't want to listen.

So they fought each time they met and slowly, Maria mentioned to gain the upper hand, finally having figured out how to best avoid the Orphan's attacks and striking their weak points to make them yield. During this time, she actually cherished not being able to die anymore, that surely gave her infinite tries. Being dead had its merits after all.

Finally, Maria managed to overpower the Orphan, her sword at their throat and her foot on their chest, as they trashed and flailed beneath her.

“Finally.”, Maria said. “Will you finally listen? I only wanted to talk. About all this here. The nightmare around us. The fact that it seems to be a cruel warp of the reality I tried to escape. That the Fishing Hamlet is here. Why you stayed in your mother's belly for so many years. I just want to try and help.” Or did she? Had she really come here just to help? Wasn't she here to find some answers about her suffering...?

There wasn't an answer, just more thrashing and flailing. Maria had to give her best to not be knocked off. “I just want some answers!”, she suddenly cried out, tears welling up in her eyes. Who had decided for her that she should keep living in this nightmare? Who had cursed her for all eternity? Why did she have to relive the things she wanted to forget over and over again.

“Tell me! You are the source of this nightmare, are you not?!”

Maria startled at the sound of her own voice. That wasn't like her. She had always been kind and compassionate, not furious, holding a sword at the throat of what was classified as a toddler.

Wiping the tears out of her eyes, she took a deep breath and looked the Orphan in the eyes... and that is when she noticed it.

“You don't even have a mind...”, she said. “You weren't even allowed to be born. This, all of this, it's just a manifestation of my own guilt and shame.”

Maria removed her Rakuyo from the Orphan's throat and the next thing she knew was that she was back in the Astral Clocktower.

With a sigh, she sat down on the sole chair there, picking up a photograph to look at. “We should have never come to the Hamlet.”, she murmured. “If we had just left Kos alone, nothing of this would have ever happened.”

Maria put the photograph to the side and sank down into her chair. There was no escape out of this nightmare, but she knew what her task in it was. Whoever would make it into it from the waking world, she would step up and prevent them from going further. She would keep the secret of the Hamlet, even in her own death.

Because a corpse should be well left alone. (Author's note: I am not super satisfied with this one, but I hope you enjoy it regardless. Like I said, it was a difficult prompt with a difficult character. Sadly we don't have much lore about Kos and the Orphan of Kos and the Fishing Hamlet is one of the biggest lore messes in the whole world of Bloodborne.)

[thorne93]

The Stars Made Us (Part 20)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 2578

Warnings: angst and language throughout

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter​​​​  and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence​​​​, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​​​​, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong​​​​ and @arrow-guy​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

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

Stephen and you set out for Nepal. You’d spent two or three days traveling all over, chasing leads. Finally, you were close. You knew it was in Kathmandu, and you were certain it had to be one of the buildings nearby. 

The two of you stopped and asked everyone if they knew where Kamar-Taj was, but no one responded. The two of you turned a corner into what appeared to be an alley or a deserted market area. Just behind you was one guy, and then two guys in front of you. 

Immediately, both you and Stephen knew they were going to try and rob you or worse. 

“Look, guys, we don’t have any money,” Stephen began. 

“Your watch,” one of the miscreants said smugly. 

“No, please, it’s all I have left,” he begged. You got closer to him, hoping that would somehow ward them off. 

“Your watch,” he repeated as they moved in closer. You were afraid at first, but now the adrenaline in your system made you beyond angry. 

“Alright,” he agreed after taking a breath. He looked at all three of them, then suddenly he swung and punched the guy who had asked for his watch. 

You didn’t have time to think or react, so you just followed his lead. He cried out in pain from the punch, but you decided to swing at the guy in front of you. The guy Stephen hit began hitting him in the stomach. You kicked the guy in front of you in the stomach, knocking him back, but the guy behind you grabbed your hair and yanked you backwards. 

You cried out in pain. You weren’t trained to fight anyone. You were a doctor. 

The guy held onto you, holding your arms. He was holding you back despite your best effort to get away. The two other men began to gang up on Stephen, kicking, beating on him, and you screamed. 

“Get away from him!” You looked around and yelled. “Help! Somebody help!” 

The two men worked quickly to get his watch, and just as they were about to run off with it, a hooded man came up and knocked all three of them out in record time. You stood back, a bit worried about what this man was about to do to you two too.

However, he grabbed the watch from the mugger, and walked it over to Stephen. It was broken, but at least he still had it. 

The hooded man asked, “You’re looking for Kamar-Taj?”

The two of you nodded and he told you to follow him. 

You walked with him about five minutes before walking up to an innocuous building. It looked and seemed just like all the others. Of course, Stephen had to make a crack about this fact. 

“Really? Are you sure you got the right place? That one looks a little more...Kamar-Taj-y,” he joked as he gestured towards what looked to be some kind of religious den. 

The man smiled, but he wasn’t amused. “I once stood in your place. And I, too, was… disrespectful. So might I offer you some advice? Forget everything you think you know.”

Stephen glanced at you, an unsure look on his face before saying, “Uh… alright,” as if he were highly confused. You simply shrugged and followed him inside. 

“The sanctuary of our teacher, the Ancient One,” the man introduced as the two of you walked into the building. You could smell incense. 

Stephen scoffed and you elbowed him in the ribs. “The Ancient One? What’s his real name? Right. Forget everything I think I know. Sorry.” 

The three of you entered an open room with tables and just a few people. An older Asian man sat at a table, reading, and Stephen presumed this man was the Ancient One. 

“Thank you for--” Two people came up and removed Stephen’s coats and yours. He seemed disturbed by it. “Huh! Okay, that’s, uh… a thing…Thank you,” he began again, but this time a woman approached with a cup of tea for both of you. “Hello. Uh, thank you. And thank you. Uh, thank you, Ancient One…for… seeing me…” But as he spoke, the older man got up and started to leave. 

The two of you frowned, confused by the action until the woman in front of you two pouring tea spoke. “You’re very welcome. Thank you, Master Mordo. Thank you, Master Hamir. Mr. Strange!”

Ah, so Mordo was his name, you mused internally. 

“Doctor, actually,” Stephen tried to correct her. 

“Well, no. Not anymore, surely. Isn’t that why you’re here? You’ve undergone many procedures. Seven, right?”

“Yeah…Good tea,” he noted after taking a sip. 

You simply stood there and listened. You weren’t here to weigh in or judge. You were just for moral support. 

“Yes,” she agreed.

“Did you heal a man named Pangborn? A paralyzed man?” he asked.

“In a way,”

“You helped him to walk again.”

“Yes.”

“How do you correct a complete C7-C8 spinal cord injury?”

“Oh, I didn’t correct it. He couldn’t walk; I convinced him that he could.”

“You’re not suggesting it was psychosomatic?”

“When you reattach a severed nerve, is it you who heals it back together or the body?”

Stephen answered, “It’s the cells.”

“And the cells are only programmed to put themselves together in very specific ways.”

“That’s right.”

“What if I told you that your own body could be convinced to put itself back together in all sorts of ways?”

“You’re talking about cellular regeneration. That’s… bleeding-edge medical tech. Is that why you’re working here, without a governing medical board? I mean… just how experimental is your treatment?” He seemed excited, and to be honest you were quite intrigued too. Just what was it they did here?

“Quite,” she responded, trying to flash a convincing smile.

“So, you figured out a way to reprogram nerve cells to self-heal?

“No, Mr. Strange. I know how to reorient the spirit to better heal the body.”

Uh oh.

You knew he was going to lose his mind soon. Talk of spirits would not fly with Stephen. 

“Spirit… to heal the body. Huh. A… Al… Al… alright. How do we do that? Where do we start?” he wondered, not quite sold but what choice did he have?

She opened a book and showed him chakras. 

And here we go, you thought sarcastically.

“Don’t like that map?” the Ancient one asked, seeming amused, knowing already he didn’t like what he saw.

“Oh, no. It’s… it’s very good. It’s just…you know, I’ve seen it before. In gift shops.”

“And what about this one?” She turned the page.

“Acupuncture, great.”

“Yeah? What about… that one?”

“You’re showing me an MRI scan? I can not believe this.” he spun around, clearly put out by the whole thing. You could tell he was about to blow up. 

“Each of those maps was drawn up by someone who could see in part, but not the whole.”

He walked around with his hands on his head, obviously having a meltdown already. “I spent my last dollar getting here on a one-way ticket, and you’re talking to me about healing through belief?”

“You’re a man who’s looking at the world through a keyhole, and you spent your whole life trying to widen that keyhole. To see more, know more. And now, on hearing that it can be widened in ways you can’t imagine, you reject the possibility? Is that what you did with your soulmate here?” she asked, glancing to you briefly.

“No, I reject it because I do not believe in fairy tales about chakras, or energy, or the power of belief. There is no such thing as spirit! We are made of matter, and nothing more. We’re just another tiny, momentary speck within an indifferent universe.” He was angry, and getting in her face. 

His words stung, because you thought you’d finally made a connection. You thought after everything you’d done for him he would’ve changed his mind about soulmates, but he was still in denial about it all. 

“Stephen,” you lightly said from his side, hoping to calm him.

“You think too little of yourself,” she responded.

“Oh, you think you see through me, do you? Well, you don’t. But I see through you!” he said loudly, poking a finger in her chest. 

In a matter of a split second, she grabbed his wrist and turned it, and used the heel of her pam to punch into his chest. He started to fall backwards before Mordo came over and put his hand under his body.

“Wha--what did you just do?” you asked, a bit horrified. 

She waved her hand and then he stood up as if he woke up from a bad dream. 

“What did you just do to me?” he asked and you eyed him, worried. 

“I pushed your astral form out of your physical form.”

“What’s in that tea? Psilocybin? LSD?”

“ Just tea. With a little honey.”

Dr. Stephen Strange: What just happened?

”For a moment, you entered the astral dimension.”

“What?”

“A place where the soul exists apart from the body.”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“To show you just how much you don’t know. Open your eye,” she said before putting her thumb on his forehead and pushing on it. 

He seemed to faint again and you went to his aid but Mordo held up a hand while he held Stephen’s body. You frowned, but obeyed. 

“His heart rate is getting dangerously high,” Mordo warned.

Suddenly, he was awakened again and a chair was quickly put under his falling body. He looked disheveled, confused, and scared. 

“He looks alright to me,” The Ancient one said before seeming to send him back out of his body again. “You think you know how the world works? You think that this material universe is all there is? What is real? What mysteries lie beyond the reach of your senses? At the root of existence, mind and matter meet. Thoughts shape reality. This universe is only one of an infinite number. Worlds without end. Some benevolent and life-giving, others filled with malice and hunger. Dark places, where powers older than time lie… ravenous… and waiting. Who are you in this vast multiverse, Mr. Strange?”

You stood by, wringing your hands. You weren’t sure what was happening to him, why they were talking to him. He seemed to just be slumped over in a chair, but you knew better. 

Stephen’s body suddenly hit the floor from the chair, as if he’d been catapulted into it. 

“Have you seen that before in a gift shop?” the Ancient One asked confidently. 

You walked over to him as he slowly got on his knees, his hands shaking more wildly than they normally did. 

“Teach me,” he requested. 

After a moment, she said, “No.”

“No?” 

“No. But, if your mate here were so inclined, I would teach her. She has the gift.”

Stephen looked up at you, surprised. You glanced from him to her. 

“What… what are you talking about?” 

“I won't train him, he's arrogant. But you have a disposition for the mystic arts," she explained, pointing at you. 

Your eyes went wide as you were taken aback. “Me? No, no I’m not special. I’m just here for Stephen,” you explained., getting uncomfortable. 

“Not special? Odd thing to say for the only person to ever have two soulmates.” 

“Well, that…” You lost your words, you had no response to that. “Thank you, Ancient One, but you should really be teaching Stephen. He needs it, not me.” 

“Sorry,” she said as she turned around. “I either help you or neither of you. If you’re choosing neither, then I’ll have someone escort you out.” 

Mordo came over and picked up Stephen’s things, but he fought him the whole way. 

“No, no, please, I need to stay and learn. Please!” 

The more he gouth, the more they fought back. They walked you two back to the exit and just threw him out - literally. He went rolling in the dirt. They threw out his bag, his coat, and slammed the door behind you. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.” Stephen ran up to it, slamming his hand on the door before drawing back in pain. “No! Open the door! Please!” he begged, and the beg was so sincere, it broke your heart. 

You’d seen him go through quite a bit in your short time with him, but this… This was going to wreck him. 

You couldn’t believe the two of you had traveled all this way for this miracle cure, only to find out it was magic. While it didn’t both you, you had experience with mutations and soulmates, you knew Stephen was probably having a tough time of things. 

He continued to pound on the door for hours before he had to take a break. He turned and sat with his back against the front door. You sat facing him, sitting on the dirt in front of him. 

“Disposition for mystic arts, huh? When were you going to tell me?”

“I had no idea until just now,” you admitted. “I’m as shocked as you are.” 

“Somehow I doubt that. That’s really great. I come here looking for answers, and all I get told is it’s you who has the ability to do this and not me.” 

You pressed your lips together, not knowing what to do or say. "Is it the idea of a soulmate you don't like, or is it having me as a soulmate that you don't like?" you finally asked. You had wondered about it since day one. Stephen seemed to resent you out of nowhere. You understood that Charles was trying to keep you at arms length. But this… Stephen didn’t know you from Adam, and yet here he was, constantly fighting you, fighting your role in his life, fighting the idea of soulmates. “Am I really just the worst thing you imagined when you thought of a soulmate?” Tears sprang to your eyes, surprising you. 

You’d always wondered if your soulmate would reject you. Of course, Charles didn’t but, Stephen seemed to absolutely hate the idea of having you around. That rather hurt. No one likes to be rejected, but it hurts much worse when the person you’re destined to be with 

“Neither,” he answered, sounding tired and exasperated.

“You certainly could’ve fooled me.,” you muttered, your eyes casting down to the dirt. 

He sighed. “It isn’t you. It’s not… You were right when you said it was my fault about my hands.  It’s not anyone’s fault but my own. I’m more angry at myself for letting it happen. I’m angry that I can’t find a fix for my hands when this is all I’ve done in life. I imagine it would be like you getting schizophrenia and not being able to help yourself. All I’ve done for the majority of my life is fix other people's bodily issues and functions. I’ve repaired cases that no one could see past. I healed injuries that should’ve killed people. And now, a lousy car wreck destroys my hands, my whole career, my whole livelihood and I can’t get it back? No one can get it back for me? I can’t accept that.”

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. Now it all made sense. 

Charles and Stephen had similar issues, yes. Both handicap, both lost their jobs. But it was for vastly different reasons and sources. Charles was accidentally wounded by a friend. Stephen made a terrible mistake and it cost him his career. Charles could be helped, he didn’t have to blame himself. Stephen does though. 

“I ignored the scars because all I cared about was my work. Getting to the next big thing, performing the next miracle. Then you show up out of nowhere, and I don’t know you. I don’t know what your motives are. I just threw Christine out for treating me like a charity case. I felt like you were about to do the same. Felt like it was your due diligence as a soulmate to care for me. I didn’t want the pity.”

“I don’t pity you,” you softly said. 

“Everything feels like pity when you’re in the state I am.” He sighed. “When you showed up, it was just another thing to deal with. The anger about my hands got entirely mixed in with finding out you were my soulmate. I just directed it all at you, and anyone else. I’ve purposely not bonded with you because all I want right now is to fix my hands, that’s all I’m focusing on. I can’t lose sight of that.”

You nodded, the picture becoming clearer for you. 

“In a way, I saw you showing up as an obstacle, a distraction from getting my hands fixed.”

“That makes sense,” you said. When you showed up at Charles’s home, he wasn’t actively seeking to get better. He thought he was doomed to either live with his mutation or his paralysis. He had the choice to walk, or have his mutation. He chose to walk. There was nothing to fix on him medically, just mentally, emotionally. That could only be done through you, with the help of you at his side. He couldn’t see a way out of the dark hole he’d dug for himself. That’s what you were there for.

But Stephen, he didn’t have a cure all at his disposal when you arrived. He was right, that this would be very much like if you developed a debilitating mental illness and couldn’t help yourself. It’s frightening, frustrating, and it makes you feel powerless. 

His focus, his goal, had been to get his life back. Not to fall in love. He didn’t have the time or the ability to do that right now. He needed his career back. He needed his hands to work again. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t see it before,” you whispered. “You’re absolutely right. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it. I’m so sorry for pushing you.” 

He waved you off. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not. It’s my job to discern these things, to read between the lines. I was just so swept up in the fact that I was meeting you, that I had two soulmates, and that you were so hostile... “

“I suppose we were both wrapped up in ourselves,” he responded with a smile. 

“Well, yes, but you had every reason to be. I was just being selfish.” 

He bobbed his head side to side in thought. “Not quite. If we’d met under different circumstances, I’m sure we would’ve hit it off much better. You’re a good psychiatrist. You didn’t come to me as a patient though, you came as my soulmate and so far, you’ve surpassed any expectation I would’ve given you.” 

You gave a half smile. “That’s good to hear I suppose.”

“Well, I don’t have a particularly high standard for anyone. So don’t get too proud, it’s easy to surpass ground level expectations,” he remarked with a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. His comment made you laugh. 

“You’re an ass,” you said as you chuckled. 

“Thank you, for doing this with me. I’m sure I could’ve done it alone, but… having you here helps, and not just because of helping me medically.” 

“I’m always happy to be by your side.” 

“You’re a good liar.” 

“I’m not lying,” you shot back evenly, your eyes tender on him. Your words made him curious and soften.

“Then, thank you,” he said sincerely before the door suddenly opened and he fell inside. “Thank you,” he called out weakly. You stood up and grabbed his coat and bags before following him in there.

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

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[deans-haunted-baby]

The Last Rites

*So, many fans including myself were unhappy with Adam Milligan and Michael’s exits out of Supernatural. This is my fix-it or at least my interpretation of what happened after 15x19 and 15x20. Enjoy!*

Summery: Chuck now human is a bitter bin collector and part-time serial killer stalking his latest victim. Little does he know that the dynamic human vessel/archangel duo Michael and Adam have been stalking him.  

"Damn that Sam and Dean and that little brat for making me human! But I'll get the last laugh," he says as he makes his rounds and choosing his latest victim. Plotting all the terrible things he plans on doing to the Winchesters. “I’ll get them all for this!”

As Chuck follows this person out to their car in the middle of the night, knife in hand. All off a sudden he hears wings flapping and turns around in horror. His eyes bug out when he sees a figure standing before him in the shadows.

"W-who's there?"  

Michael/Adam step out of the darkness wearing a "surprise-bitch" look on their face: "Hello...father" by the darkness of his ton Chuck knows his son hadn't forgotten the last time they saw each other. By that lakeside where he'd killed him for helping the Winchesters.

"No i-its impossible... You're dead I killed you. You should be in the Empty."

Michael hesitantly shakes his head. "Not anymore."

"How?"

"Let's just say I made bail thanks to my nephew and Castiel as they needed my assistance in Heaven's rehabilitation. And I humbly obliged."

"Castiel? He's alive too?! And you're working for them?! Why? That little brat took my power!" Chuck screams in anguish. "NO you both should be suffering in the Empty for all eternity!"

Michael/Adam looks at his hands flexing them into fists. Recalling the last second he drew breath being smited by his father. Regretting his decision to ever forsake his duty for humanity for his father. And his anger burns like acid.

"After what you did to me the last time we spoke...all I've cherished was this moment," the archangel Prince darkly replies. Adam's soul quietly astral-projected is in the background roots on his buddy. "Jack and Castiel offered me a chance to atone myself for wrongly choosing you over that which I’ve swore an oath to protect. That I could leave the Empty and reclaim my throne in Heaven if I stayed on Earth and helped the Winchesters clean up your mess."  

Chuck glares "So you're their bitchboy now? Ha, pathetic." He chortled in his throat. "I always knew you were weak, Michael. Being in that cage all those years with Sam and Dean's forgotten little bro has made you soft."

Michael's cheeks throb angrily. But he maintains his restraint. "Oh I'm not doing this for them," he reveals; stepping a little closer to his father. Shoulders squared. "Being stuck on Earth is also my punishment. But I've accepted it...I deserve my fate...just as you deserve yours right now."

Chuck then scrutinizes his son suspiciously. Looking from the archangel's fists to the face of his vessel Adam.

"What so you're like an archangel superhero now?" He can't contain a laugh. "Wow those Winchesters must be really desperate to resort to sending you here instead of facing me themselves."

Michael shook his head. "As I've already stated...I'm not here for them, he says. "The one called Dean, my original sword, has already fallen in battle and has inherited his place in my nephew's paradise. And his brother Sam sought out his other brother Adam, my chosen vessel. They've been working together ever since."

"And that's when Jack sent you."

“Yes."

"Dammit!,” Chuck swears this wasn't suppose to happen. If he killed a Winchester in his story the other brother left alive was suppose to take his own life in grief. No this couldn't be happening. They changed his ending AGAIN. "THIS WASN'T THE ENDING I PLANNED! I DIDN'T WRITE THIS!"

Michael cocks his head sideways; basking in his father's frustration. It was music to his ears. Then he's serious; raising his hand and forwarding his palm in a power-up.

"Your reign if tyranny is over father. You will not be scribing another's fate ever again. Not while I'm around."

At that Chuck's face is ghostly white. "Wait, what are you doing?" He puts up his hands submissively. "I'm human now, you can't just smite me. I'm part of the humanity that I created for you to protect!"

"Oh you don't have any rights here," growls the archangel sternly. "You gave up those privileges when you chose to use your newfound humanity to blindly murder others. Your arrogance and hatred for mankind was your own undoing. And now your death shall be your punishment, father."

Chuck trembling now resorts to begging for his son's mercy. "Michael, wait son we can talk about this." He showcases a nervous smile. "We can still make this right."

"No we can't." Michael scoffs. "The centuries of my allegiance to you have also perished. And I've wanted nothing more than to watch you beg forgiveness as you draw your last breath."

"Wait please show your father mercy, my son! Please!"

"Like the mercy you demonstrated to me that day by the lake shore?"

Chuck nodded still keeping his hands up. Okay so Michael was still pissed about that. "Fine you're right that was a mistake. I should've never hurt you like that. I was wrong and I see that now."

Michael's expression is smug, giving a mild throat chuckle. Then his cold expression shifts into anguish. "I hate myself for ever believing in you and turning my back on humanity. I will never be able to forgive myself for making that choice. For allowing you, Lucifer and my devotion to you to manipulate me from doing what was right."

"This doesn't have to get ugly Michael, we can still talk this out." Chuck begs. “Come on, what do ya say?”

"No we're done talking father." Michael's eyes glow like silvery blue light.

Chuck back peddles "Wait j-just give me another chance. I can prove to you I'll change I will."

Michael chuckles darkly, "Like the chance you were about to give that civilian you were following just now? Or the others you’ve murdered since?"

He eyes the knife in his father's hand. Suddenly Chuck realizes this and impulsively drops it onto the pavement.

"No, this isn’t what it looks like. I-I wasn't going to hurt anyone else. I swear!"

"You'll never learn will you father," Michael shrugs apathetically. "It's a shame. You were given a gift by your own flesh and blood and you've squandered it."  

"WAIT MICHAEL, PLEASE LET'S JUST TALK ABOUT THIS!"

No, no the archangel Prince was done talking. He'd said all he needed to say and with that throws Chuck's own last words to him right back in the short man's face.

"SAVE IT!" smiting him instantly on the spot. Blasting his father in a blinding light, erasing him from existence. When the dust settles Michael eases his tense shoulders releasing a sharp intake of breath.

Adam's projected soul then takes it upon himself to console his friend. Who is clearly bitter about destroying his own father even if he was an evil bastard.

"You did the right thing you know," the pre-med student/hunter in training reassures him. "Your dad would've killed that person if you hadn't intervened."

But Michael doesn't want to hear it. "I didn't do this for that person. I did it out of my own volition. I wanted my father to pay for what he'd done to me and my broken vow."

"It still doesn't change the fact that you saved someone tonight, Michael,” Adam insists. “And you proved that you can be better than Chuck ever was."

Michael frowns lowering his gaze to the ground melancholically.

"Or maybe I've just demonstrated that I am no better than him. I betrayed my sworn oath," the archangel squeezes his fist tightly. Putting all his anger into that hand. "And for that transgression alone I shall never be redeemed."

Adam recognizing the sadness in Michael's expression, throws his celestial pal a genuine smile, kneading his shoulder. "There's always redemption for all of us," he says gently. "I believe my brothers were capable of that, even if they never cared about me. Knowing you and even getting to know Sam has taught me so much more about myself, my family and what I'm meant to do with my life."

"What like being a hero?"

"Yah and it's kinda cool I get to kick some ass with an archangel."

"So, you want to honor your family. Despite what fate they'd left you to."

Adam shook his head. "Sam and Dean were far from perfect. I don't think I'll ever fully forgive them for what happened," he reveals. "BUT I think it changed me for the better. I got to become friends with Heavens MVP and I care about their cause now. They wanted to protect the world from evil and that's what I want to do. It's not about honoring the Winchester's legacy I want to do some good in this world. And you know what...I think you do too."

The archangel smiled to himself. "Well I did get some amusement out of watching my father squirm," He says lightly then adds. "Alright kid, you win. We shall continue our eternal quest for justice."

"Good, but we can continue that quest another night," the pre-med checks his wristwatch. "I gotta get some rest I have classes in the morning."

Michael scrutinized Adam. "You do know that you no longer require rest now that I've possessed this vessel or has that notion escaped you?"

“Oh yah I forgot," Adam laughs. "I guess I won't be needing sleep anytime soon then. Let's go home anyway I want to check out the bunker some more. Find any hidden passages or something."

"As you wish. I imagine your canine companion is also getting famished without us around to feed it."

A light bulb went off in his head. Right Sam and Dean's dog Miracle was in his care now. He loved that scruffy mutt even if he did drool a lot. Time to get home.  

"Miracle, okay we gotta get home stat!"

And with that Michael flew back to the bunker.

[cadomoisspokenfor]

Legion Rewatch Notes,

Chapter 7:

The King In Yellow

Walter’s really putting his all into that whistling.

Kerry ended up losing Walter eventually. But I guess she was chased out of her hiding place by the zombies.

Theory: Much like how David feels most stable and confident when Syd’s around, Kerry feels most stable and confident when Cary’s around. She’s much less likely to lose a fight or get scared if Cary is in the vicinity. This would also explain why she feels so betrayed that Cary left her in Mental Clockworks. She works best when he’s around (power of love and all that) so when he’s not around she constantly feels like she’s on the ropes. Maybe only subconsciously though.

Lenny says “Hey” a lot.

So Farouk... actually seems distressed here. This is him at his least chill. He’s just shoved a person he actually cares about into a corner of their mind cause he just couldn’t understand them, the dream he’s created is collapsing and he has no plan on how to deal with it (rare for Farouk), and the location of his own body (his temple) is still lost to him after all this time.

Also, there’s apparently no specific place it could be. Farouk’s body could be anywhere on the globe. I guess he and everyone who knows about is aware that he could come back to his body if he knows where it is?

Even though it’s pointed out a lot I’ll also note that Charles is in his wheelchair in Amy’s flashback. And given future/past events (confusing, I know) this either means Farouk is the one who put him in a wheelchair, or whatever caused it happened between defeating Farouk and giving away baby David. And there’s... really not a lot of time in between those 2 events.

As we’ve seen before, while Farouk can probably see into Oliver’s ice cube residents, he can’t actually go inside or do anything to Oliver (or his guest) while he’s in there.

Farouk doesn’t want the dream to end until he’s located his body.

Cary is used to finishing Oliver’s sentences.

Cary and Oliver think very alike. The biggest difference between them I suppose is Oliver’s reality bending powers.

David never agreed to the barbershop quartet but Oliver put his name down anyways.

I never caught this before, but the thing that makes it obvious to Cary is the fact that the parasite called itself “King”. Before when watching this I thought “it’s just a name,” but I guess the point is... what other villain would be so hubris filled as to advertise who they are so openly. It speaks to the brazenness of Farouk. If Charles had ever checked back and found out David was talking to some invisible friend named “King” Farouk woulda been discovered then and there. I can only assume this means the name “King” was taunt of sorts. A joke only Farouk was in on. Not to mention, Farouk probably would never have settled for a name any less dignifying.

Oliver doesn’t remember any of his past friends, but he does remember Farouk. I wonder, did him and Cary hear about Farouk before or after Charles defeated him? Farouk hasn’t been publicly doing things for 30 years, and the only event that could reasonably be linked to him is Meiser Sunday. If they knew about him before Charles defeated him then that would just speak to his prolificness as a villain, I guess. “The Shadow King”, an unstoppable force for years until a random prodigy mutant gets him on his first try... or so they thought. I believe that’s how it happened in the comics too.

I’ll also note, Charles is an important figure in the mutant community, but it shouldn’t be discounted that the mutant community still existed and had a whole rich history before Charles even stepped on the scene. It seems like either Xaviers School doesn’t exist in this timeline, or they just don’t know about it. And given that, Summerland seemingly founded itself off the same general ideas of the Xavier School, but completely independently. Like 2 people coming up with the same idea on different sides of the planet.

Farouk’s weakness as Oliver puts it is, “He puts all of his energy into tricking David. Didn’t think to watch his six.” I wonder... is this a consistent weakness of Farouk’s? Could this be what Oliver means when he says he found his weakness in s2?

Oliver admits Farouk is too powerful for him. It’s not like he’s one to have a power complex, but it is interesting how shameless he is about it. He doesn’t really philosophize about that kind of thing, he’s matter of fact about it. Farouk’s got more measurable power than me, we need to find another way around him. He also notes though that *David* could defeat Farouk if need be. Everyone recognizes David as the top of the food chain.

Small note: I guess this is how it works between omega lvls. Always thinking of ways around each others raw abilities. Farouk knows David is too strong for him in s2, so he finds away around it. David knows he might not be able to hold out against Farouk’s built up experience, so he finds away around it. Brains over brawn every time, it would seem.

Cary feels really really bad for David. Seeing him screaming his brains out in a locked box knowing full well how much David hates small space. It’s very sweet. But also, 2 episodes Cary seemed a bit more standoffish about David. Knowing what he knows now recontextualized all those past events. David is a victim of something incomprehensibly terrible. He sees that now.

My boi Dan’s gonna need a lozenge after this one.

“We’re gonna need everybody.” They never get Ptonomy :/

I didn’t pick up on any of the other times, but Syd’s job here is to be a distraction. Sure, she has to protect the others in the process, but freeing them from the dream is the job of Cary, Oliver, and Melanie.

Still though, David is the victim who needs help here. He’s not the hero who saves them, he’s the one in need of saving. And Syd takes charge in the plan to do so and is tasked with protecting the others, making her once again closer to the hero archetype than David is. In the moment at least.

Syd’s talking fast cause they don’t exactly have all the time in the world here.

The zombies vanish but the architecture remains. There are “degrees” of real in the astral plane.

“Just thought it’d be interesting.” She’s over the whole “jumpscare haunted house” thing by now.

Silly me, the Melanie scene took place after Cary went to gather people. So it’s definitely Cary in the suit.

Melanie’s glad to see he’s back but she’s not completely love struck. Probably both cause he doesn’t remember her, and cause lovestruck Melanie was a result of her mind being altered to fit the delusion. Cary is guiding them out of the delusion so she’s back to her old self basically. Rational, and concerned with the mission.

This isn’t important, I just like how Melanie wakes him up here. It’s sweet, and bitter, cause it’s too late for him anyways.

Why does Farouk simulate this whole process for Rudy? What’s the use in tricking him if he already can barely do anything? We know Rudy gets him eventually, but it’s just surprising that Farouk recognizes him as being a potential threat.

Cary neglected to inform Syd who else he was personally waking.

Is Walter seeing the zombies too? Unclear. But he’s less chill about his tormenting now.

David starts using humor to cope. From what we’ve seen he’s been non-stop screaming for a while. It seems like he stops panicking as much specifically because his mind is fracturing to help him cope.

His first alter (that we see). Rational Mind.

RM says the coffin is just an “idea.” Very specific word choice there.

Rm tells him to forget all the “lies” he learned in memory work and the MRI. That was all Summerland stuff, though. “It’s your mind.” Essentially, trust yourself. You know who you are, don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise. Not even your new friends. Very reminiscent of, “You decide what is real and what is not.”

David doesn’t want to call his adoptive parents his parents anymore.

David’s happy to finally contextualize Farouk as a mutant and not a mental illness. It all starts making since to him, his whole life.

RM’s the first one to say “boohoo,” and it’s in response to David’s sadness over his bio-parents giving him away.

“I am pretty, I am loved.” “Good, keep going.” This mindset David’s falling into is specifically encouraged by his alters. In fact, it’s RM that pushes him down this path in the first place. David (non-Shadow King possessed David) has been avoiding this thought all season.

David’s a bit wrong here, and I think the difference tells us something important. David assumes Farouk possessed him after he was already living in the Haller’s house. But, we know it seemingly happened before Charles even got back from Morocco. So, given that Gabrielle’s mental health was already bad from post-partum depression (alternatively, it’s just the depression she already had) and Charles leaving her alone to go to Morocco, Farouk coming in and haunting the house probably sent things over the edge. David was most likely given away because Gabrielle wasn’t well enough to care for him like he needed, and Charles... 🤷🏾‍♀️ tbh. Might just’ve not wanted to raise David without Gabrielle. They both said they didn’t ant him to turn out like them. In s3 it’s made to seem like the house haunting was a combination of David and Farouk. David’s haunting time travelly presence probably made things worse, but Farouk would’ve gotten to the baby much sooner if not for him, and without David in the way Farouk probably would’ve upped his own intentional torments. The goal was revenge after all.

David assumes Farouk’s goal is revenge upon the whole world. Makes sense since that’s what Farouk’d been encouraging David to all season. And what he’ll continue to encourage him towards throughout s2 & 3.

Syd “woke him up.” She makes him more stable and sane. She grounds him in reality.

“I was sick, but I’m not sick anymore.” A moment of quiet deliberation with his alter and then he awakens with newfound confidence and a plan. This will repeat in a very tragic way later on.

Kerry, Syd, and a damaged comrade in a wheelchair. If I had nickel for every time this happens I’d have 2 nickels. Very weird it happens twice. Unless... mental clockworks and the end of s3 are supposed to parallel each other.

I assume the astral-plane diving suit protects whoever’s wearing it from psychic threats, much like the ice cube. At the moment, no one’s wearing it.

Sometimes psychics powers require a bit of miming to manifest. Oliver can’t just wave his hand and make a shield, not a strong enough one at least. Similarly, Farouk can’t just expand his mind into the future, he needs to go through a whole time machine building process in the astral plane.

Cary and Melanie seeing Walter get killed must hit hard for them considering he used to be a student of theirs. Sure, he turned against them, but still...

They juxtapose Walter dying with Rudy fully waking up. I wonder if that means it was his powers that were keeping Rudy docile and not necessarily the stab wound.

David is the one that wakes them all up, destroys the dream, and puts them back in their real bodies. And just in time for Cary to place the halo on his head. This is I think the first time David does a real act of super-heroism. The only potential one previously is saving Amy and he wasn’t really the one in control there. This is his first win against Farouk.

David’s not only got control of his powers, but control of himself for the first time, too. And it’s to the point where he’s perceiving things at lightning speeds and moving fast enough to catch bullets. Along with whatever power he’s using to halt the bullets momentum too. For now at least, this is our hero.

They play sinister music whenever he does the bright white light teleport. He does it again at the end of s2. Is it a specific kind of teleport, or is he just adding flair?

David didn’t teleport them directly to the base.

Kerry sadly looks at Rudy’s body.

Melanie looked around for Oliver but in doing so missed him meeting up with the others.

Everyone’s relaxing after their long fought for victory. David and Syd seem really happy. They find Oliver funny/charming.

When Cary’s talking to Kerry, in the background I can barely make out everyone else talking about potatoes.

David’s fine with Amy apologizing, just not in front of the others.

Instead of “The Poor Woodcutter and His Wife” Oliver calls it the “The story of The Lady and the Crane.”

Farouk doesn’t like small spaces either. Ha.