#when you've rotted out your soul and you don't even have anything to show for it so you devour yourself

[m0e-ru]

lets think of everyone who had persona blogs and obliterated them off the face of the earth instead of just archiving and keep them in our thoughts tonight. everyone else who directly caused them into doing that go and fucking behave

[myplasticadversary]

Perhaps having another breakdown thinking about Kendall wanting to be like his dad and not wanting to be like him and being like him after all but only the bad parts ((:

[someone1348]

I need a pick me up from the Jjk angst! So I'm writing a fic!

I have finished the show but there are no spoilers in this fic!

The people in this: Lee!Yuji, Ler!Megumi (healing my itafushi soul)

It is a tickle fic so keep scrolling if you don't want to read it :]

Tw: angst to comfort, being tied up (its nothing bad I promise!), cursing! Other than that it's adorable!

It's a little different from some of the fics I've written before but I still hope you enjoy it! I really missed writing!

-K <3

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Bringing back the sunshine!

Life had put Yuji Itadori through the ringer. It was really true what they say, the sorcerer life will change you in ways you've never expected. No matter what happens in life Yuji always had a smile on his face, even when he was quiet his energy still radiated the warmth of the sun. He is a good guy, anyone can see that just by looking at him. He's also incredibly strong in every aspect. The first to comfort everyone, and the last to finish the fights for everyone. He was respected and loved by everyone around him. Even his enemies could respect how naturally gifted he is.

But he was tired. Yuji had his breaking point and still wasn't fully recovered. He was okay. he just felt empty. He didn't feel like himself. He had been feeling like that for a while now. So much has happened in his life, so fast, too, and he just needed to process. Having Sukuna in his ear didn't help him either, but that's a story for another day. Let's just say jujutsu high has been extra gloomy without their sunshine. Everyone was thrown off balance. However, it hit Megumi especially hard. Megumi Fushiguro does not like feeling off! If things were off, he felt like he couldn't function properly, and it would irriate him to no end. It was like a constant nagging at his heart every time he looked at Yuji. He wanted to do something to help, anything but every idea he tried was a dead end. He knew that Yuji just needed to feel and process, which is absolutely valid, but he couldn't live without that warmth.

It has been long enough now. Megumi was going to get him back, no matter what it took. The pinkette was in his dorm room, next door to Megumi's, rotting away, playing some video game on his phone that he wasn't actually paying attention to. After grabbing some supplies he needed the ravenette took a deep breath and softly knocked on Yuji's door.

"Itadori?" He spoke gently, waiting for an answer.

"Come in."

Megumi's heart sank. The tone in his voice sounded so broken. No normal person could tell that from just two words, but Megumi was different. He knows Yuji, truly knows him.

He shook it off and entered with his stuff, Yuji didn't seem to notice that either considering he wasn't immediately bombard with questions about what he was hiding inside the tiny cardboard box. Yuji just stared at him, moving his head gently, forcing a small smile on his face.

"Drop the fake smile, you don't have to bullshit your feelings around me..." Megumi's voice was stren but calming. Yuji's body dropped gently in an exhale, closing his eyes. He felt so weak and Yuji hated that feeling, but he couldn't shake it no matter what he tried.

"What's up?" Yuji managed to muster out two words as Megumi put the box on the bed next to Yuji. Looking him in the eyes he exclaimed "I know you need to process but I can't function when you're not yourself. So I'm getting Yuji back." This finally caught the vessels attention.

He cocked an eyebrow at the shikigami user "Huh?" Yuji blinked looking down at the box before looking back at Megumi "I'm sorry Megumi, I'm really trying...nothing's working...I think I'm just going to be sad for awhile..."

Megumi nodded "and I'm not dismissing that, you can feel whatever you need to feel, but I won't let you sit here and do nothing, I'm going to try cheering you up, my way, and you're going to like it. Got it?"

Yuji rolled his eyes gently "Good luck"

Megumi just smirked "Trust me, this method has your name written all over it. And the best part is, you don't have to lift a finger, you can just relax and let me take care of you"

This was the first time in a long time Yuji felt something, his heart warmed up a bit and this caused Yuji's eyes to open a little wider, now curious on what this great plan was to cheer him up again.

"Look in the box." Megumi's smirk grew as Yuji slowly opened the cardboard box that was now sitting on his lap. He expected food or something, so he was surprised when he looked down to reveal two different feathers and some fake rope. His eyes widened as he blinked.

"Fushiguro...are you gonna...?" Yuji couldn't even finish his sentence.

"Tickle you? Hell yeah, I am. You need a pick me up, and I figured this would be the best thing for you. I'm gonna tickle you out of that damn head of yours. " Megumi smirk grew even more, if that was even possible.

Yuji face got a little red from embarrassment and joy. Megumi really did know him better then he knew himself. "But um...what's with the rope?"

Megumi chuckled a little "That was going to be used to tie your arms up, if you're comfortable with that. I wanted you to have a choice"

Yuji giggled a little, already starting to feel a little better. "I wouldn't mind this time, I just need to get out of my head"

"Arms up"

You didn't have to tell Yuji twice! He gently put his arms up, thankful that he was in a tank top. Megumi tied his wrists up gently to the bed frame. "Ready?" He smiled as he opened the box again to get the feathers out.

"Dark grey, or white and black?" Yuji blushed a bit looking at them. "The second one!" He spoke confidently as Megumi nodded and put the other one down. Setting the box to the side, sitting on his knees to face him properly.

"I'm gonna get you Yujiii" Megumi wasn't normally too playful but he is comfortable with Yuji and knows that this is what he needs right now. The poor angel was already giggling up a storm and nothing has touched him yet.

Fushiguro smirked again before gently swiping the feather under his arm. Yuji squealed and yolted out of pure instinct. Megumi smiled, admiring the reactions. "Did someone forget how ticklish he is?~" Megumi teased as he took the feather and moved it from the top of his wrist, passed his elbow, all the way down until he reached his underarm again.

Yuji didn't even try to hold in his reactions. The Pinkette's giggles grew the closer and closer Megumi got to his underarm before he let his genuine laughter peak through.

"MehehegumiIIHIHIHI!-" Yuji placed his head back on the bedframe as he laughed. Megumi's smile grew more and more at this. Slowly moving the feather down to slide over his ribs.

"PfFt- HeHehey!" Megumi tilted his head at him and hummed "Hmm?"

Yuji moved his torso out of instinct trying to get away. Megumi raised an eyebrow at this and smirked "Where do you think you're going?" He used his fingers to gently tickle the other side of Yuji's ribs.

"AH!" Yuji squeaked at the sensation and laughed again finding it hard now to escape, but he didn't really want to escape.

Megumi giggled gently "Does it tickle Itadori?" Yuji laughed through his words. "You alreheheady! Knohow! That! Prohohoblem chihiLD- GAH! HAHAHA NOHOHO!" Megumi gave him a fake grumpy face at the nickname and moved his fingers up to wiggle in his underarms.

"Mouth" Megumi warned before stopping and moving the feather around his neck and ears. "Guhuhumi!" Megumi smirked again "Yes?" Yuji giggled like a little kid. "Ihihit tickles!" Megumi nodded "Good. That's the point"

Megumi kept up the gentle strokes as Yuji giggled so much he snorted. This caused Megumi to break out into laughter "THAT WAS GOLD! JUST WAIT UNTIL I TELL GOJO!" Yuji whined through his laughter "Tell hihihim! And you're so deHEHEAD- MEHEHEGUMIIIHIHIHI!" The feather was forgotten as Megumi used both hands to gently squeeze his ticklish hips. His thumbs kneading into the bones gently. Yuji jumped and wiggled as he let his beautiful laughter flow freely.

"NAHAHA! NOHOHOT THAHAHAT!" He squeaked and laughed, trying to get away, but it was no use. Megumi giggled gently as his voice got more teasy. "Oh yes that~" he continued "Tickle Tickle Tickleee~" He skittered one hand up his ribs and sides as the other kept up the gentle squeezes on his hips.

Yuji's face got as pink as his hair as he let himself laugh. The sensation taking over his thought process. "NOhOhoO! TeHeAsinG!" He laughed and gently kicked the bed. Megumi smirked picking up the feather and before circling his bellybutton. "Nohoho nonono dohohon't!-"

"Im sorry Itadori, it looks like the feather is a cursed object, it's moving on its own. I have no say in this" He pretended to be serious which only made Yuji laugh more.

"Noho ihihit's nohot! I don't feheheel any cursed enerGY-HEHE MEHEHEGUMIIIHIHIHI!-" The feather dipped into his bellybutton as he arched gently and threw his head back laughing.

"What's the matter Yuji? Don't tell me this is tickling you" He smiled

"IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES! IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES MEGUMI PLEHEHEASE!"

"I told you it's got a mind of its own!"

After a few more minutes, Megumi finally let up and untied him. As Yuji caught his breath with a big smile gracing his features.

Megumi's mission was accomplished. He brought the sunshine back.

"Thank you....Fushiguro"

________________________________________

I know it's a little different but I hope you all enjoyed! If you have any more pairs or trios you would like to see of jjk let me know!

[moodymisty]

Hi! I'm brain rotting over here as I play Darksiders 2 and was just wondering how Death would be with a more battle type gender neutral mc? Maybe they met when mc accidentally ambushed him and he's been stuck with them ever since? Maybe a ton of scars on them,,,

Author's note: Omg I am so sorry anon, You got swamped in the bottom of my inbox;; Here, I hope these HC formatted thoughts and a little drabble is enough as forgiveness.

Relationships: Death/Fem!Reader

Warnings: None really, other than a brief mention of bruises and scares

Given how Death seems to be a magnet for all sorts of people despite hating people, it probably wouldn't take too long for him to come across some sort of cornered human.

Be they in the remains of Earth, or hell, even taken as a 'pet' by a demon to Hell.

You won't be doing any sort of actual damage to him when you attempt to attack him, but he has to admit he admires the gusto.

Though in his younger years he would've found it insulting, as he'd still had a fair share of cockiness back then he's since rid himself off. Maybe you just didn't realize what you were attempting to attack wasn't human.

He'd probably like a taglaong, even if he denies it. He's so used to not having companionship during his countless outings, that having another soul beside him is odd. He habitually pushes it away.

He sees a bit of himself in you sometimes. The way you're so desperately clawing for your own life against all odds.

Just don't constantly be so twitchy and looking around every corner, it makes him on edge also and he hates it.

The soft remnants of a fire burning out, embers floating upward, Death looks over at you.

You're finally asleep; Laying on your side facing him. Your legs are curled up close to your body in an attempt to stay warm, without anything but your clothes to protect you from the frigid weather.

With just enough light, Death can spot your one arm that's lazily flopped outward, in the general direction of whats left of the fire. In it's glow, he can see the bruise around your wrist, once a deep purple now partly fading to a sickly green.

To think, he almost feels remorse about that now.

Death is well aware humans are more fragile, but not that fragile. He barely grabbed you to stop you from pulling a dumb stunt, and now your skin clearly shows the mark of where he'd nearly hurt you much worse.

You had flipped around the wall with your gun, only to have a hand gripped around your wrist so tight, you were forced to drop it. No matter how much you clawed at the hand, he refused to let go.

And you had very much wanted him to, once you had gotten a sight of what you attempted to protect yourself from.

"Are you dense?"

Your knees had wanted to buckled underneath you, and partly did, but his grip had held you so tight it kept you upright.

You weren't dense, he remembers, you were just trying to protect yourself. He'd without knowing cornered you in that room, and you had only known to fight.

You were surprisingly quick to forgive it, and even going so far as to shadow him, once you realized he wasn't going to eat you alive. Contrary to his appearance. But Death wasn't in the mood for tagalongs, and had only accepted under the guise that he was going to drop you off at the nearest group of humans he would come across.

But there was none. Death finds his mouth bitter at the realization that your race is all but gone. You're a fighter and have kept going this long, but sooner or later that luck will run out. The scars on your hands and arms have all but proven with as many close calls you've escaped, you don't have much favor with lady luck left.

The Ravaiim, The Nephilim, so many races trampled underfoot. Humanity is just another one to add to the list, Death solemnly thinks.

"Hngh," Death looks over and notices you shifting in your sleep, the arm he'd bruised sliding close to your body. Your knife is still on your person, but you'd laid your gun close to where your head is. Death reaches over and nudges it away, assuring you don't hit it in your sleep.

He looks away again, content to just ignore your mumbling and shifting. Even as it increases, and your face seems more distressed the next time he takes a glance.

When you end up shifting close enough to him that you bump into his leg, he sighs.

One hand grasps our shoulder with a gentle pressure- conscious now of being softer than he had with your wrist. It stops your shifting and the touch seems to quell your nightmare, and you still. He moves to brush a chunk of hair that fell into your face away. Death keeps his hand there until he feels you start to wake up hours later, and pulls away before you realize.

[hitomisuzuya]

Hiii! Ily and your works, so if you're feeling tired feel free to let this rot in your inbox.

Can I have more touchy, feely, clingy, reader? Except they're like, totally stressed out with assignments and reports, and responible adult stuff x Scara? Sorry if you don't write for modern au.

a/n: Rest assured, I do write Modern AU😊 I hope you enjoy. Also I hope you don't mind that I wrote it that they are together in college. I don't feel comfortable writing any AU related to highschool, reason being that I am not a minor. I know I write for minors, and I don't mind that but I won't write anything related to writing the reader as a minor.

Scaramouche x reader who is clingy and stressed with responsibilities. SFW. Set in college years. Fluff.

You sighed, your head coming to rest with a soft thump against the table. "I am never going to get this done," you groaned as frustration and stress set in. "I still have two more reports to write that are due tomorrow. I'm so tired."

"Then take a break, it can wait," Scaramouche replied. You'd met him during your first semester. Friendship blossomed into a relationship during those months. When he'd finally asked you out, this is how he'd done it: "Get ready, we are going off campus to get lunch. This place is crawling with shitheads today."

Placing a hand on the desk next to you, Scaramouche looked over your shoulder. You were writing a very advanced essay for your English Lit. class, one about interpreting the themes in The Glass Menagerie*. "You really should've started this sooner, idiot. You've known about it for a week now. There was a lot of ways that the play could be emotionally interpreted.

You put a hand over his, squeezing it for extra comfort. You'd always been clingy, even insisting that you hold his hand every time you were walking with him in public.

Even though it took Scaramouche awhile to get used to your clingy nature, he didn't mind. In fact, he enjoyed that quality about you. It showed him that you genuinely wanted to be with him. If you squint hard enough, and they are there don't worry, he can be clingy at times as well. He will never admit this out loud.

The comfort you felt from having your hand on his head had relaxed you into a sudden slumber. Sighing, he waited for a few minutes to gingerly pull his hand out from underneath yours. Draping a blanket over your shoulders, he grabbed your stuff off the desk and flopped down (quietly) onto your head.

When you awoke in the morning, your back aching and already panicking that you'd fallen asleep without realizing it, you quickly calmed down. Three reports were stacked neatly on your desk with a note on top of them. It read as follows: I've gone to bed. I stayed up all night writing these for you. Reword them in some places so your Professors don't catch on.

Bless his soul. Scaramouche may be difficult to deal with sometimes, but he really loves and cares about you.

*The Glass Menagerie is a play written by the great Tennessee Williams. I had the pleasure of reading it during my own brief stint in college. I highly recommend it.

[byullielle]

That Mind Mine to Lose // Han Jisung x Gn!Reader

yes another song-inspired fic, it's the 3RACHA brand atp; odds by NIKI, but only the line 'What I'd give to make that mind mine to lose' because I am the biggest genius!Jisung enthusiast A look into how Jisung shares his creative processes with Y/N, and although they don't get it too much they're still overall amazed and endeared by the sheer passion Jisung has for his job.

Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Kissies, Music Terminology (author doesn't know wtf she's saying style), Est. Relationship, Petnames (baby, darling, jagiya/jagi)

Disclaimer: wrote this to NIKI's entire discography because idk what it is but in my mind she's so...jisung coded (???) i suggest listening to acoustic guitar-heavy music while reading

A strum then a tap against the fret board, and then another strum, before a full chord comes out, the grunting. Even with your back turned you could see your boyfriend's cute little pout, lips pursed out while bending to write something down on the notepad on the coffee table.

You're heating up cups of tea and coffee for the both of you since he is deemed energetic enough to not stay cooped up in his room and provide you a little show about how he works on his songs. And while you make snacks and a drink the guitar has been playing partially for the past 10 minutes. It isn't a full song, but the humming, half strums and taps to the fretboard with some of his own mumbling and light singing provides the comfiest atmosphere to man. You love watching and hearing Jisung work, always so entrapped in how he concentrates then suddenly lifting his head to smile at you. It turns your heart into mush and would render you wanting to bash your head against the wall because of pure cuteness aggression.

Your Jisungie was one energetic beast. Always running off the walls, dancing around the house, and on a tangent about everything and anything—and it wasn't that you didn't love him for that, but there was just an entirely different vibe when Jisung is in the zone but with your presence in the mix. It's comforting and healing, as Felix would put it.

Putting the plate of warm cookies and your mugs on the small tray, you carry it to the living room and set it down on the coffee table, "Jagiya," you let out in barely a whisper because he has his guitar encased in his arm and eyes closed as if he's pulling some lyrics within the galaxies of inspiration behind those closed eyes. You sit on the velvet armchair right across your couch where he was working, not wanting to invade his personal space.

He smells the coffee and opens his eyes, beaming up at you to see the snacks. "Sweet!" he beams up at you and reaches out to take a cookie, "Baby, what are you doing there? Come sit here," he pats the spot next to him. "Are you sure?" you ask but already stand from your spot.

"Of course! I need some of your powers so that I could think of things," he chuckles, placing a kiss on your cheek immediately right after you sit down, then another on your lips after you set your drink down. You couldn't help but giggle, cupping his face quickly before pressing one last peck on his lips, letting go before settling down on the couch. "What are you working on?"

"I wanna make it sound like, soulful but bridge should have some high point," he visualizes with his hands in front of him, twisting and turning as he interprets it physically, "Like, if a sad song had a happy beat, there's supposed to be a hook that lets it sinks in that it's a sad song," he rambles on, and you nod along, trying your best to revision what he's trying to achieve although you're probably thinking of two different things.

"I have like, a verse and the bridge but it's still missing a whole chorus and two more verses,"

"Well, let's hear what you've got, if it's alright," you request, which makes him look over to you with heart eyes, absolutely smitten by your request as the tips of his ears turn pink, pressing another kiss to your lips. "Okay," he replies before pulling the notepad closer, but you take it and hold it up for him.

"Thank you darling," he smiles before clearing his throat. He strums a few chords, making you sway gently against the fine melody he's making, a bit choppy but not like you could do any better. He starts singing, lyrics still unrhyming but still holding weight, his voice and the chords of the guitar melding properly and you giggle at the sudden dissonance after he plays the wrong chord. He carries on until it's over.

Then a comfortable blanket of silence envelops you both. You set the notepad down and gently clap for him, delight spread all over your features as he chuckles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I think it's starting to sound nice," you honestly say, knowing he hates it when it's a simple 'sounds good,' because he needs to know how it sounds to you. And you love him so much for valuing your opinion because you could be credited for half his work at that point. Which was something both of you often joke about.

"It's like...you know when you listen to a song for the first time not knowing its lyrics so you assume its a happy, acoustic song?" you try to explain to him more specifically, "That kinda vibe,"

"I see," he nods. "Well, I'll work on it more tomorrow," he shrugs before strumming the strings one by one, "Wanna sing for you jagiya, is that alright for you?"

"I'd love to!"

With your tea encased in your hands, warming you up, Jisung takes a sip of coffee and a bite of a cookie before starting to position himself properly. He starts out a few testing strums, then fully plays chords familiar to you. As he plays, you sway to and fro, eyes closed and taking occasional sips of tea, his voice relaxing every muscle in your body.

God, did you love Han Jisung. Your creative and talented genius.

if you wanna send in a prompt or an ask or just say hi feel free to do so!!

[juniperdugong]

Couple Costumes 95s ver.

What you guys would wear as a couple on Halloween and how they react!! || 95s | 96s || 97s || Maknae line || A/N: I tried to make these examples as inclusive as possible, if you don't like that THEN GET OUT! Also, the characters or costumes I mention DO NOT correlate to the boys' personalities and this is all just for some silly Halloween fun! I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE ART, all credit goes to their respective artists!

Scoups Cowboys/Cowgirl or Slashers

Honestly, I don't think Cheol is one to really dress up on his own. You'd have to push for it and even then he gives big "I just want to see you dressed up" or "Dad who hands out candy without dressing up" vibes to me.

But 100% would do it if it makes you, the love of his life, happy. Anything to see you smile, really. He would think it's silly and non-serious when you propose it... little does he know that you're an absolutely down-bad freak. (in reference to me actually...)

I can so clearly see him giving into whatever costume you want him in, not knowing your ulterior motive (you're just trying to show off his muscle and physique... Who wouldn't wanna see all that?!) Gets fake shy when he realizes what you're up to. Hey, as long as you respect his wishes of being covered up to a certain extent then he's all for it!

In the end, I feel like y'all would end up going as a really cute pair of cowboys or cowboy and cowgirl... but the demon in me wants y'all dressed up as classic slasher villains (ie. Pyramid head x one of the nurses, cute versions of Jason x Micheal, Freddy Kreuger x Scream)

Jeonghan Sylvanian Family/ Calico Critters

Sorry, he's the one that kicked the entire concept of couple costumes off for me and all I can think about is you and him (and maybe your kids in the future) dressing up as a little Sylvanian family and no other costume ideas. (My brain is actually rotting from how badly I want to see him something like this.)

He would reluctantly wear a costume but lowkey be really into it. You would've suggested other couple or family costumes but he was the one to bring up this concept and he refuses anything else (Your honor, just like me he can't give up this idea!!)

Honestly, he doesn't mind the costume on himself but he adores the costume on you. Wishes he could shrink ya down and keep you in his bag and travel everywhere with you (just like his sylvanian family)

And if you have a kid or a younger cousin or something... actual cuteness overload, like I can envision Hannie getting the most extreme cuteness aggression over this? Like he's getting mad at how adorable you all look. Hates when Halloween ends because he loves how good you guys look together like this.

Joshua Mr and Mrs. Fox or Soul Eater

Getting slightly niche here, I feel like Shua and his spouse would make the perfect Wes Anderson couple. I went with Mr and Mrs. Fox because I can absolutely envision him as Mr. Fox but any Wes Anderson couple would do IMO. (Also, I just know that this Halloween this costume concept is gonna blow up this year for some reason.)

Then there's Soul Eater (showing a bit of me and Josh's true colors with this one) If you've seen that one melon prison clip where he says what his favorite animes are then I think you can follow my vision here. I can definitely see him thinking it's cool to do a semi-cosplay of Maka and Soul or Stein and Spirit, maybe even a do gender-bends of certain weapons and meisters. (Maybe even dig a bit deep and do Arthur and Excalibur from Soul Eater/Fire Force)

I feel like Josh is such a go-with-the-flow person when it comes to things that you suggest, so asking him about wearing costumes in the first place is a no-brainer. He says yes and he gives pretty good opinions and input when it comes to picking costumes out and stuff. Honestly, he's fine with however you guys spend Halloween as long as you're together, dressed up or not. I feel like he's the type to calm you down when you're freaking out about last-minute costume changes or anything, just a very supportive BF.

A/N: Been a bit and I come back with Halloween thangs!! Still got other stuff in the works dwdw but hopefully y'all enjoy this. The rest of the members will be coming out within this week and next week so look forward to those as well! Anyways, how y'all been?!?!

Please Reblog and Comment if you enjoyed ! (They act as power-ups for me)

Taglist (OPEN): @bemybabiibish @bath1lda @porridgesblog

[magicdreemurr17]

3rd Anniversary

"Along This Trail"

-------------------------------------------------------

“You’ve been quite the little busy body, haven’t you?” Magic growled.

The child’s malicious smile turned into a tormenting smirk. They had taken the lives of everyone and everything living in the underground, multiple times, so it shouldn't have been so surprising that they weren't faced by her aggression. Doing this, they'd already been through hell and back, so Magic's frustration was much tamer by comparison.

“What? Did you think I’d feel any remorse for those idiots?” an unfamiliar voice spoke out of Frisk’s mouth. That was… strange. That voice sounded nothing like Frisk’s sweet and mellow voice.

“W-Who are you?! You aren’t Frisk!” Magic stammered, taken aback from the shock of there being someone else pulling the strings.

The child began to cackle maniacally, these odd, black tears streaming from their crimson eyes, “You STILL haven’t figured out my true identity? I think you’ve been spending so much time gawking at that sorry excuse of a robot that it rotted away your brain.”

Magic clenched her fist, her blood boiling from the hate she felt, “Listen to me now, kid. You can say whatever you want about me. Frisk or not, I don't care what you think anymore… but don't you dare insult Mettaton!”

They never even tried to get to know him personally, so what gave them the right to attack his character? The way she saw it, this entity would stab first and ask questions later. Perhaps whoever was using Frisk’s body and allowing no remorse or regret from Frisk’s portion of their intertwined soul to come through so they could maintain control.

“Who do you even think you are?! You never bothered to even learn about any of the monsters..-”

“WRONG!!! I know everything about each and every single one of them! Especially that traitorous scum of a goat prince, Asriel!” The child yelled in pure hatred.

Magic gasped as her eyes became wider than ever. She knew that name all too well. Asriel was the prince of all monsters, son of Toriel and Asgore Dreemurr, the queen and king. There were several timelines where she and Frisk discovered, at the end of their journey, that Flowey was Asriel. It was strange that this child brought up the deceased prince, almost like they knew him before he became Flowey, as if they were… best friends. There was only one person Magic heard about in the underground who fit that description.

“C-Chara..? The first human to fall… but that was years ago! There’s no way you survived your illness!” Magic snarled in anger, showing only slight surprise.

“Ah, but you forget that I had a small chance of turning into a lingering spirit.” Chara replied with a smirk pasted across their features, “I’m just getting my revenge on those pathetic monsters.”

“What would you even want revenge for?! They never did anything to hurt y..-”

“THEY DID EVERYTHING TO HURT ME!!! Asriel betrayed me and broke a promise he made to me. That sweet, innocent monster that was my best friend, he said he trusted me, that he would never argue or judge my opinion. When it all really mattered, however, he betrayed me, like he didn’t even care!” Chara monologued in anger and sadness.

“Still! How can you blame all the monsters that were alive today for a mishap that occurred years ago? Can’t you see it’s not fair to the..-” Magic’s sentence was cut off as Chara lodged the Toy Knife they had kept with them since the ruins right through the older human, stabbing clean through her chest. Blood splattered from the open wound as Magic fell to her knees.

No...

Not like this…

…

“Aghh..!” she cleared the draft in outrage, “Why is it so much harder to write about something you lived through while also making it sound interesting!?”

“Relax… you've been staring at that screen for the past four hours, procrastinating.” Magic took a sip of her bubble tea, one hand resting comfortably in the pocket of her MTT-brand hoodie, “You're gonna wear yourself out if you keep doing that. Why don't you take a break? Mettaton's fired up the disco room alongside his Dancetale counterpart. You like to dance, don't you?”

“I can't just relax right now. I've gotta get this done so I know what to build off of for the next chapter.” Pacifist replied.

“I know, I know… but I feel like you're taking this a little too seriously. Yeah, you might've lived through it, but I feel like you're exaggerating this story just for the publicity.” the human raised an eyebrow at her as she took another sip, “You sure Mettaton and Undyne weren't a bad influence on you..?”

“That's not the point..! It's not like I'm retelling our story just for my readers..! I… have some personal motivations behind it too.” Pacifist leapt in her defense, only earning an eyeroll from her lookalike.

“Uh huh, sure. Come with me a sec, yeah?”

Without warning, the girl in glasses snatched Pacifist's wrist and dragged her out of her room in the studios located in the Omega Timeline. The building itself was massive, hosting enough rooms for almost every person who's been to this place. CORE!Frisk really went above and beyond to make sure everyone felt at home, or at the very least welcomed, here. On the way to the cafeteria, they passed by a recording studio, where some members from XTale were getting ready to rehearse for a special movie that Ink!Sans wanted to put out for everyone to see. It took a lot to convince Mettaton to play his part, mostly because he'd been salty over the fact that he gets killed off in his debut episode… or at least, that's what he claimed, despite the implications of the script saying otherwise.

XGaster sensed them pass by and turned towards the door for a brief moment, exchanging tense glares with Pacifist. This didn't go unnoticed by Magic as she yanked on the anomaly's arm harder to get her attention.

“Will you just stop glaring at that mummy-man and keep moving?” she ordered impatiently.

“He doesn't have enough plasters on him if you ask me…” Pacifist grumbled.

“I heard that,” XGaster responded.

“Oh, good. You can listen… selectively.” she retorted, earning her an undignified snort from XChara and surprisingly Cross, who both earned an over-the-shoulder death glare from their universe's creator.

“Come on, Pacifist.” Magic walked around and literally pushed Pacifist out of the doorway so she couldn't exchange glares with the apathetic… skeleton..? Monster..? Honestly, they didn't know what to call him anymore. Ink!Magic insisted that he wasn't just a skeleton, yet they didn't want to find out what he actually was.

Moving into one of the recreational rooms, they noticed several kids from various AUs sitting around a table, coloring together. Among them were Underfell's Frisk, who had dragged their Asriel over with him, but seeing the now taller goat prince trying to sit comfortably in a kid's chair was just pure comedy. In the corner of the room, Fell Magic was watching them like a hawk with the Royal Guard captains by her side. Hiding behind her leg was her daughter, who sheepishly kept her distance from the other children (she was antisocial, there was no getting her to join the crowd). In another corner of the room, Outertale Magic was accompanied by her robot companion, trying to teach some of the AU children to understand sign language. She was planning on asking one of her alternatives to help her, but Outer!Mettaton insisted that he had to keep an eye on her. It probably didn't help that just a few moments ago, her Horrortale counterpart had triggered some… disturbing memories of his.

“Better watch out, robot. If you lose sight of her again, she might scream for help if she's in danger..- Oh wait, she tried, but nobody came.” she had said, a belligerent smirk on her face.

That instantly sent the poor robot into a “what-if” spiral, as not even CORE!Frisk could reassure him that they were safe in the Omega Timeline. Luckily, Horror!Magic didn't get away with it, as she was employed (against her will) to help the librarian organize their books. Unfortunately, she wasn't very good with her organization skills, so she got yelled at a lot for not putting things in the correct order. It got a laugh out of her Undyne though, who enjoyed watching her wallow in her frustration… even if it was at a distance where they couldn't get into one of their… “confrontations”.

A sudden voice snapped Pacifist out of her thought train, ��Well, look who finally crawled out of her little cave… Finally remembered to touch some grass once in a while?”

The human anomaly looked over to find Fell Magic's eyes piercing through her soul. Behind that cold glare, she could faintly see hints of concern laced in her expression.

“Actually, I..-”

“No, Blackthorn, she did not remember to touch grass.” Magic interjected, “As a matter of fact, she was still staring at her screen, moping about our autobiography before I dragged her out of there myself.”

“Of course she did…” Fell Magic shook her head slowly, rolling her eyes, “Papyrus, Undyne, go upstairs and bar her door shut for the rest of the day.”

“Yes, ma'am!” the edgy skeleton quickly replied, rushing upstairs in an instant.

“Hey! Wait, don't do that! I haven't even gotten past the prologue yet!” Pacifist whined.

“Or eaten something half decent in almost three days! You can't keep gorging on snacks twice a day and call that a meal just because you're stressing out..!” Fell Magic growled, “I swear, if I wasn't restricted from it, I'd smack you upside the head for your stupidity, dumba..-” she looked down at her daughter, who had her head tilted in confusion as she gave her mother the large, timid but slightly curious eyes, “ergh, I mean… I'd lightly tap you on the back of the head for not taking care of yourself.”

Outer!Magic nodded her head slowly in agreement, affirming her alternative's concerns silently.

“The last time any of us saw you leave your room, it was because you and Genocide had a debate over plot elements.” Underfell's Frisk added.

“In my defense, he was arguing about how I should've changed my weapon from a sword to a lance since I favor polearms.” Pacifist crossed her arms and huffed in offense, “Every great story I know has a main character with a sword.”

“And most of those stories you know have the same, monotonous, god-slaying sword.” Fell Magic rolled her eyes again, earning a scowl from Pacifist.

Moving past the recreational room, Magic dragged her to the cafeteria and into the kitchen where Epic!Toriel was engaged in pleasant conversation with her XTale counterpart. Sitting at one of the tables in the main dining area were XTale and Epictale's Magics, the former being carefully monitored by her bodyguard and partner. It didn't take long until the two monster queens noticed they were no longer alone in the kitchen.

“Ah, good evening, children,” greeted Epic!Toriel.

“To what do we owe this pleasure..?” XToriel asked, checking them both for any cuts, scuffs or bruises, “You didn't get into any trouble, did you..?”

Pacifist shuddered in slight discomfort at how maternal XToriel was being, throwing up her hands quickly in defense, “No, no! Nothing like that..! We're just here because… well, Magic insisted that I eat something.”

“Hmm?”

“Well, I've been so preoccupied with writing that I kinda lost track of time.” she replied.

The room suddenly got much more tense, as both goat moms exchanged a… perfectly ordinary glance with absolutely no hidden message beneath them. Epic!Toriel's face darkened as the tension in the air grew thicker, making Pacifist feel incredibly small where she stood and Magic grateful that she wasn't the one under the goat monster's intense gaze.

“My child… when was the last time you ate..?” she asked, her voice flat and emotionless minus the inquiry.

“U-Umm, s-s-solid meals or snacks?” Pacifist laughed nervously, swallowing hard.

“Snacks are hardly a meal!” bellowed Epic!Toriel before covering her mouth in shock, “Ah, forgive me. I've been needing to raise my voice a lot as of late to a… certain, stubborn someone. We must correct this at once! Go on, out of the kitchen with you. We shall make you something more substantial to eat.”

“But..-” Pacifist got cut off as she was ushered out of the kitchen by XToriel, moseying on over to the table where Epic!Magic was chatting it up with XMagic.

The two noticed her presence quickly and smiled as she approached them. The XTale General immediately took a bow out of respect, but it made Pacifist physically uncomfortable.

“Lady Pacifist, allow me to pull a chair for you.” XMettaton implored.

“That's… That's not necessary, General. I can seat myself.” she replied.

“But surely you must be exhausted…”

“General, I was upstairs writing; that doesn't require much physical activity, last I checked.” she clarified.

“Yes, but it requires brain power, and that can only be draining for someone as fragile as yourself.”

Who's he calling fragile..? He's lost his limbs multiple times, including on set… accidentally, Pacifist thought.

“We from XTale know how that can be, I assure you. We wouldn't want someone as delicate as you getting any ludicrously absurd ideas that torments your health further or jeopardizes the ones you care about, now would we..?” he let out a nervous robotic chuckle, but Pacifist could tell he was attempting to side eye his princess over the shoulder without her noticing.

Unfortunately for him, XMagic's brow twitched slightly, catching the slight tilt of his head in her direction. Without warning, she snatched the tail-end of his cape and, with all her strength, flipped it right over his head, blinding him temporarily which caused him to flinch before spiraling into a panic.

“Gah! Milady, forgive me! Please! Please, I beg you! Fix this cursed thing!” he whined, “Darling, please..! I can't seeeee..!”

“Oops, so sorry, General… My delicate hands must've slipped for a moment.” she retorted, a touch of salt dripping in her tone, causing her Epic alternative to let out a hearty laugh in amusement.

Pacifist giggled slightly, “That's what irked you? Not him addressing me as ‘Lady Pacifist’?”

“He refers to your universe’s Magic as ‘Lady Magnolia’,” she took a sip of her tea, maintaining an air of decorum as she spoke just to taunt her robot companion, “I think you'll find I am not the jealous type. If anything, I should think it's a compliment.”

“Oh, I'm flattered, don't get me wrong…” Pacifist replied, “but I'm still not used to hearing it, y'know? I don't really like being treated as royalty..-”

XMettaton was quick to correct her, “With all due respect, you are the adopted child of the original Dreemurr family! There is no greater honor in all the Multiverse… That title alone should be celebrated, regardless of your origins.”

Pacifist scowled slightly, “You know if you were one of those overpowered skeleton characters that I begrudgingly know exist out there, I would not take those words very lightly… but you're one of Mettaton's alternatives, so you're lucky your cute looks force me to bite my tongue.”

Epic!Magic wiped a tear from her eye after recovering from her laughter, “I see now where Snowdrop got both sides to her personality.”

Pacifist paid her a confused glance, unsure of what she could possibly be referring to, but before Epic!Magic could answer that question, she stopped when a sudden chill went down her spine. It was so paralyzing, even she couldn't muster the guts to turn and look behind her.

“Is there a problem with our Magic's personality..?” a rough, feminine voice interjected, with Reapertale Undyne looming over, glaring down at Epic!Magic.

“Great to see your hearing in regards to her is still top-notch, Undyne…” the paranoid human responded with a nervous smile that screamed ‘help me’ as the goddess of war just stood there… menacingly.

“Hmph. Don't you dare speak her name in vain, mortal… Alternative or not, I don't care. If you dare soil her reputation as a goddess, I'll pull you aside and knock some sense into you, got it?” she threatened.

The sudden sound of heels clicking against the floor broke the tension in the room as a softer voice interrupted, “Honestly, Undyne… Are you ever going to leave me to fight my own battles..? The tension you are bringing to this room won't help Pacifist calm down… and you know it makes a majority of the refugees uncomfortable.”

“But she was..-”

“I heard her… but did you not hear what I've told you about controlling your temper? You can't always go on a warpath whenever you hear something you don't like.” the blonde-haired goddess replied, maintaining composure even in the presence of the enraged goddess.

Reaper!Undyne grumbled and crossed her arms, dropping the conversation but not without muttering incoherent words under her breath in frustration.

“Thanks for that, Snowdrop…” Epic!Magic replied, letting out a relieved sigh with an expression that made it seem like her soul had left and was just reentering her body.

The Reapertale variant of Magic snapped her fingers, forming a makeshift chair for herself out of vines and branches uprooting from the ground beneath the floor, taking a seat calmly while she sipped on a teacup she got from… gods know where.

“That was worse than anything Sans has come up with.” Reaper!Magic suddenly interrupted, looking over at Pacifist.

“Whuh..-? I didn't say anything.”

“Not you… per se...” she inquired.

What is that supposed to mean? thought Pacifist.

“Nevermind. So how is your… I mean, our story coming along?” Reaper!Magic asked, “Everyone around here seems to be waiting with baited breath, and yet you produce nothing. There's also been word that you've been tiring yourself faster than you can get a single chapter done… to the point of skipping meals.”

“I wouldn't go that far..! You make it sound like I'm doing it on purpose. I may be stressed because I can't find the right words to… well, write, but I'm not beating myself to a pulp over it.” the human anomaly replied.

“... You've become a perfectionist, haven't you..?” XMagic inquired.

“What..-?”

“Say what!? You mean that old geezer rubbed off on her?” Epic!Magic stood up so fast, she knocked her own chair down, “Where's his ugly mug!? I'll reintroduce him to my battle axe for corrupting Pacifist with his influence!”

XMagic glared at her alternative, her eyes going hollow briefly, “Amaryllis. Sit. Down.”

“Uhh… S-Sure thing, Hibiscus.” she replied nervously.

XMettaton shook his head from behind, looking upon the other royal Magic in disapproval, “Such rash behavior from a Royal Guard…”

“General, if I may be so bold, hypocrisy is no virtue to live by.” Reaper!Magic interjected, sipping her tea casually, “We've all seen how you and Cross behave in interaction, or do I need to remind you of a certain incident involving a popularity contest..?”

The monochrome robot general immediately shut his mouth, his mind blanking at the obvious callout. Yeah, there was no way out of that one… he and Cross have had many heated interactions with each other in the past, especially ones where the General lost his cool… namely that incident.

“Ahem.” XMagic cleared her throat to get their attention before continuing to scold her Epictale counterpart, “I can assure you XGaster did no such thing. For him to corrupt Pacifist would be among the tallest orders… next to him getting along with your AU's Gaster, of course…”

“I’m insulted that you even think I’d let him do that; I thought you knew me.” Pacifist responded in mock hurt before getting more serious, “I've been trying to make this story perfect, yeah… but I think I'm so worried about what others will think of it when I start to reveal where it goes, no matter how accurate it really is. I mean… in the eyes of some random monster or man on the internet, most of it sounds completely made up.”

“That's because you have a wild imagination and a tendency to exaggerate just for suspense. With you, anything can sound made up.” Reaper!Magic commented.

Pacifist laughed slightly, “I mean, if I'd been told about four years ago our time that I'd have seen this many alternate universes and met all of you guys, I probably would've said ‘you're making that up’. I would've believed someone who told me I was going to turn into some kind of supernatural animal that leaves a blue blur as it runs before I believed that.”

“... Again I say, a wild imagination.”

“What!? That's a real character in the fighting game that Asriel and I like to play!” Pacifist replied in offense.

“Super Smashing Fighters?” asked Epic!Magic.

The human anomaly facepalmed, holding her head in the palm of her hand as she rolled her eyes, “Who the heck invented that ripoff name anyways..?”

Reaper!Magic giggled slightly, “It is truly a joy seeing you get so passionate about what motivates you… though you needn't be such a perfectionist with what you love. That's the most important thing… just doing what you love for the sake of doing what you enjoy. Mistakes can and will happen… but it's okay. Just live and learn.”

“Easier said than done, but… I can give it my best shot.” Pacifist replied, smiling slightly, “Thanks for the pep talk, guys. I'm used to being the person who does that.”

“You've given pep talks to last us to Ink's twentieth birthday since XTale's arrival. We've heard enough.” Epic!Magic answered, making Pacifist somewhat confused.

“But… you know Ink!Magic doesn't age, right? I mean… Moonflower looks like she's nineteen, but she's older, and also doesn't age because… well, y'know.”

“Yeah, but she doesn't act her age and being reminded of that gives us, her creations, an excuse to baby her because HAVE YOU SEEN HER!? SHE DESERVES TO BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS!” Epic!Magic responded, slamming her fist against the table and knocking her and XMagic's drinks into the air, startling the monochrome woman a bit.

The General quickly stretched out his arms and swiped both glasses before they smashed against the floor, glaring at Epictale's oldest human angrily.

“You could've indirectly burned her highness like that!” he complained.

“Come on, she's fine. Live a little, General! You're so overprotective of her.” Epic!Magic waved her hand at him dismissively.

“FOR GOOD REASON!” screeched the robot.

Pacifist watched as the two royal guards started to bicker back and forth, with the XTale princess caught in the middle looking amused that what was once a mutual respect was completely shattered the moment that she met her Epictale alternative. It was little moments like these that made her truly adore the life she had now, even if it was still plagued with its stressful moments. It didn't matter whether the day was plagued by scorching sun nor freezing cold, there was always a journey ahead to look forward to; a new day to celebrate with the colorful characters she'd befriended.

“You know, guys..?” Pacifist spoke up, grabbing their attention briefly, “It's moments like these where I truly don't miss the old life I had. I never really had this kind of stuff back home… so thank you for that. May these peaceful days last… I look forward to the tomorrow with you.”

Her words made their hearts melt from their honesty. It was written on her face.

“That old conflict was not our adventure's end… merely a fresh start to see what else lies beyond the sky.”

…

…

…

“Please… S-Spare us….. g-give…. us….. m-mercy…….” the commoner fell to the ground, limp after the sword that had been lodged into their chest was removed.

The sword's wielder stared at the blood from behind their mask with a lifeless gaze. That was the last light that was to be snuffed out from this world… one of the outer realms from the world they came from. They stopped when they noticed their reflection in the blade's metallic sheen, dark as it were, as they flinched and lowered the sword, sheathing it with the last soul taken from this place.

“In the end, it didn't even matter…” they spoke softly, “your rulers tried to put up a fight and failed… your most valuable soldiers killed, and for what? A promise to a good future..? Promises are useless. Certainty is all that counts… if you want to defy fate, you must have the conviction and determination to grasp that certainty.”

They stopped and held up a heart-shaped locket in their free hand. In contrast to the black and dark purple armor they adorned, this locket was a bright gold, much like the luminescent parts of their old body… their weak, mortal body that was destroyed what felt like years ago. They weren't sure how much time had passed; only that it had been over five years. A stray tear formed in their eye, but immediately dried up when getting caught in the mask they wore to hide their face. They clenched the locket in their hand, causing it to crack slightly.

“There… Now, like me, it is broken.” they stated, “Hmm. It left behind an x-shaped crack… how intriguing.”

The sounds of footsteps approaching caught their attention as their fellow comrades joined them, overlooking the destruction, both donning a similar black armor… One lethal swordsman, and one skilled mage.

“It appears we could not retrieve the data belonging to the two queens.” said the mage, “Tch… and after we went through all this trouble.”

“... Destroy the ark containing every last bit of data for this world.” they ordered all of a sudden, causing the swordsman to widen his eyes in slight shock.

“Are you certain..? That data will be lost forever…” he reminded them.

“Not forever,” they retorted, “I can OVERLOAD its destruction. I have a copy of each of these worlds’ data saved to my personal bank, along with the code of every individual soul that belongs in these worlds… or have you forgotten..? Death doesn't exist to us.”

He turned away without another word, understanding his comrade's instructions now.

“The World of Two Titans… and the World of Blades shall cease to exist now… just as the worlds we attacked before them. All that leaves is… that world…”

The mage hesitantly spoke up, “Are you certain this is the path you'll take..?”

“I will not depart immediately… our contractor has... other plans for me.” they reached into their cape and pulled a suspicious-looking canister, one with a smell that reeked so bad, it could turn up even the least sensitive nose, “I'm afraid I will be detained for quite a while… At least until I'm finally able to manifest this blasted curse.”

“You call it a curse, just as he did…” the swordsman pointed out, frowning behind his mask, “Do you still miss him..?”

The first one was silent for a while, but then finally spoke, “I am the False Light… I hold no ties. I miss none and have no one to miss.”

“Nemesis…” The mage answered sympathetically.

The first character marched past their two allies, tormented by a single lingering thought that had pestered them since they slaughtered that last commoner.

Spare them? What kind of fool would do such a thing..? All enemies have to be eliminated… they're in my way. That's how you play the game. Simple as that.

-------------------------------------------------------

UPDATE: Hello everyone! Happy third anniversary to Undertale: Lost In The Echo! I know it's been a while since I've posted anything, and likely most of you have given up waiting on Chapter 11, but, well, I'm actually here to explain what happened. See, I was SUPPOSED to post Chapter 11 back in Summer, I wanna say around the end of June, early July... the problem came from the fact that I wanted to release a promo poster to go along with the start of the Waterfall Chapters, but the artist I recruited to assist me with that while I worked on the chapter got overwhelmed with other things and couldn't finish it.

That being said I did manage to get another friend to do the piece for me, and with Chapter 11 finished and ready to be posted, I ask that you please wait just a little longer and it'll be out by the end of the month at the very least, early March at most.

Oh, and for those wondering if this story is canon to the events of Lost In The Echo; no. This story is NOT CANON. This rush job was put together last minute after I realized today was the anniversary for Lost In The Echo and needed an excuse to put something out to appease my readers. I won't be uploading this story to Wattpad or AO3, so uh... I guess those people will have to just be patient?

Again, sorry for the delays, beauties. Thank you for reading this and remember to always stay determined!~ <3

Oh yeah, this should go without saying, but uh... The AUs mentioned in this short story don't belong to me (though the alt Magics do). Go give props to the creators of Underfell, Outertale, Horrortale, Reapertale, Dancetale, XTale, Epictale, and the creators of Ink!Sans, the Omega Timeline, and CORE!Frisk. Also, shoutout to one of my Discord friends for listing the first five AUs in that list to use in this crazy little spinoff story. You're a true bro. Who knows if I'll be using these AUs again in the future? Maybe you'll have to wait and see for yourselves. ;)

Bye now!

( LOST IN THE ECHO PROLOGUE )

[themusedump]

Rise of the Monarch lyric starters. From the 2022 Amalee album. Change pronouns as needed!

Rise Of The Monarch (Intro)

"A candle burning, it was burning too bright."

"The world was shaking like the flicker of a light."

"A dying flame no one remembers."

"They beat her down to only embers."

"But will she rise again?"

"Rise, I know we can."

From The Embers

"I'd been blinded by the light for so damn long."

"It took losing everything to see I'd been wrong all along."

"I knew I had change somehow but didn't know where to start."

"I'd rather rule the dark than serve in the light."

"Tell me how this is wrong when it feels so right."

"I lost the fight but won the war."

"In my heart a hole was torn forever."

"I thought that I'd lay down and die, but just then I began to fly from embers."

"When you light a candle, watch the flames get brighter but the shadows all around grow darker."

"I spent my whole life fighting all this darkness in my heart from overtaking."

Metamorphosis

"What you did to me is making all my dreams into nightmares."

"But maybe all this time my love made me blind."

"Was it nothing more than all a game to you?"

"Was I the moth and you the flame?"

"Oh you should be afraid."

"Cause now I've locked away the girl that you had known. The girl you betrayed."

"The pain made me strong - It's where I belong."

"And it makes me laugh everytime I look back."

"I believed I couldn't be anything more than that."

"Boy, it's such a shame it had to end this way."

"Gave my heart and gave my soul. I gave it all to you and more."

"But I'm no longer the moth no baby I'm the flame."

Monster U Made

"There's a madness I can't fight and it calls to me at night."

"You have nightmares, I have mine."

"I was a mistake so you cast me off aside. Like that's all I'd ever be."

"But I'm back to take everything that's rightly mine."

"And we all have you to thank."

"Know I'm the monster that you made."

"Why be good that doesn't sound as fun?"

"But lemme tell you there is something bout the dark that really makes me feel alive."

"You think you're special but you're not."

"You and your ego can go rot."

"I'm only the thing you've done right, and that's sayin' a lot."

"But don't let that get to your head."

"Babe, you're just as good as dead."

Villain Vibes

"Better back down, get on your knees."

"Stealing your heart, she'll make you plead."

"She'd rather be the hunter than the prey."

"Rather be a killer than a Saint."

"Either way, she's still gonna make you pray."

"Maybe long ago was heaven-made, but she slipped and fell along the way."

"Now she's got another role to play."

"But I kinda like living on the edge of this high."

" I like crazy."

"Don't show this to just anyone."

"But can't stop what you've begun."

"Smiled 'til the mischief felt boring."

"She ain't the hero, just the villain of somebody else's story."

"Acting tough, nah you not even in the same category."

"But ya fear the reaper like never before."

"Trust it's a thrill you'll never comprehend."

MWTWB

"You're always going to be the villain in someone else's story."

"That's their fault for pissing you off in the first place."

"Mirror mirror, on the wall. Who's the baddest bitch of all - it's me?"

"No need to think - no need to think."

"No need to think I know it's me."

"I never take shit from anybody."

"Don't know why you think it was wise to cross me."

If ya got a death wish, then I'm listening. I'll end the life that you're living. Just call me your genie. "

"Piss me off and I'm leaving bodies."

"Better get down on your knees and count your prayers."

"Cause nothing good comes after here."

"You're 'bout to meet your queen."

"Lemme tell ya that you're messing with the wrong bitch now."

"Can't let you forget it's me who wears the crown."

"If you dare stand in my way then, baby Imma cut you down."

"I'm calling out for blood, it echoes in the crowd."

"And if you're gonna beg, then do it now."

"Keep making me mad and it'll be off with your head."

"Keep playing your games and somebody'll wind up dead."

"Kinda sad that all good things come to end."

"So baby kneel, off with your head."

"I wanna hear you scream."

"You ain't even seen me go full crazy."

"You really love to go and run your mouth."

"I hope you go down half as proud."

"I wanna hear you plead."

"Did ya really think I would let ya walk free?"

"If you're gonna beg, then do it now or else I'm gonna stain my gown."

Drink Your Light

"If you're scared of my bark then you'll be scared of my bite."

"But maybe that's baby that's the thing that I like."

"I don't run in a pack, I like it solo."

"And if I want it I take it."

"And you don't have to like it, but it's still me who's in control."

"Cause baby, I bite back."

"Let me drink your light."

"It wasn't merely fate that got me this throne."

"I got a taste for power and bone."

"And if I crave it I chase it."

"And I don't gotta say it, but you don't want me provoked."

"I'm a sick maniac with fire for soul."

"I feel alive my other side is now in control."

Call Me King

"I wasted years, gave you my life. And I think that's the biggest crime."

"You said forever but my trust in you was severed."

"Nothing quite inspires like a broken heart."

"Glad ya really hit me hard."

"You said forever, yeah, my sanity was severed."

"And now I'm the new monarch."

"It's not quite how we rehearsed but I wanna hear it from you first."

"Call me king."

"I don't need anything from you now that I'm king."

"And I might, yeah, I might show a little mercy."

"Nah. Fuck it."

"We made a promise in the light."

"We swore to set the kingdom right."

"We could be heroes but ya blew that all to zero."

"And this whole thing ends tonight."

"I'll show you what happens when you mess with god."

"You messed with the wrong bitch but somehow you're still alive."

"The monster that you made had you diggin' your own grave."

"I drank your light, rose from embers, so you can call me king."

[border-spam]

Leech Lord : Jak-Knife

JK belongs to / is written by / designed by @godkingsanointed​

“That Bandit’s a ghostwalker, my God-King. You don’t want ‘em here, trust me. Sometimes dead clans leave corpses behind that aren’t straight in the head enough to know that’s what they are... Crawl across the plains looking for somewhere else to belong, looking for a new family clan ‘cause all that’s left of theirs are Rakk picked bones. Seen plenty over the years, and they trail bad luck behind ‘em like a disease. That one’s marked like a Hellion, those got slag-burned into the ground by Atlas back in Old Haven. Your majesties weren’t here when that happened, but we were, and I remember. Leave them to me, the scout teams always need fresh meat for replacements.

They won’t stay alive long enough to be a concern.”

- Mouthpiece

Whether death follows JK or they sprint after it in pursuit is something they’ve never really been sure of. It could be either - some great predator snapping at their heels while they grew up in a Bandit clan that wasn’t kind to the small and gentle, or a force they are drawn to effortlessly like the migratory animals that follow Pandora’s monsoon seasons.

Could be either.

Could be both.

Same outcome they figure, so why would it matter.

They'd been a kid when it happened, well, a kid to anyone not a Bandit. In that life 16 years old is more than enough to run with a raid party, adult enough to work yourself to the bone, to show you can earn your keep when your brother is "useless" and you've got to be worth 2 bellies of food or watch as one of you goes hungry. Jak-Knife and Gutpunch, one a runt squinting up from under a stolen warrior's mask crafted for someone twice their size, the other a gentle giant born into a life that no aspect of their soul suited. They'd protected him, them with their little body and dull pocketknife versus the sometimes cruelty of a clan who's survival was based around only the fittest, only the strong staying part of it.

Not evil, just living as was needed. Pandora is harsh, there is no room for softness if you want to stay alive on her rocky flats, that's just the way things are. Nature isn't cruel, it simply is.

They were 16 when the Lance came.

16 years they'd lasted in the Hellions, till the day the gates of Old Haven had been opened for the Crimson Lance's money carriers. They'd done their job, they'd cleared the town at the request of the white Siren, been promised a home for the clan, a place to belong, and in the end, their payment came in bullets sprayed from Atlas gun barrels.

By the time JK had woken up and tried to heave Gutpunch's corpse off their back from where he'd shielded them, it had been two days. Groggy and confused, they'd panicked, desperately trying to scrabble out from under his bulk as the remaining Lance stopped piling bodies to burn and ran towards the sound of gunfire outside the gates.

Vault Hunters. Worse than the lance.

They couldn't take him with them, he couldn't move now, but they couldn't leave him like this, not a brother. Not when he was all they had who'd understood when they'd try and explain why their meat was wrong, how the flesh didn't sit right, when he was who would help them tighten rags around their chest and listen as they ground their overly developed canines and growled to the stars at night when it got too heavy to bear. They couldn't leave him behind after a life together, so they took his mask. Scrabbled at the bindings and peeled the effigy from what was left of his head. They realised as it separated from flesh that it had been all that was holding the remnants of skull together... but this was his face. The meat under it was Gutpunch, but the mask... they'd wear it now. He'd still be with them.

Jak-Knife had ran from the massacre of Old Haven on shaky legs, ducking as bullets whistled through the air around them as Crimson Lance and Vault Hunters traded fire in panicked waves. No hits, not directly, but a spray of Slag from a barrel ruptured by a narrow miss had sliced across their right, thick and acrid in the air as it burned through skin and into muscle. There had been no time to feel the pain, no time to stop, JK had run till their feet bled and the weight of Pandora's inky night blanketed them in exhaustion they couldn't fight any longer.

They'd started to stumble forward once they stirred in the morning. Like Mouthpiece said, a ghostwalker. No clan, no brother, no belonging. They walked and didn't stop for a long time.

Walked to New Haven, to the walls outside the town and a woman with her own terribly scarred face masking a heart softer than others would guess. Not a home there, not really, but allowed stay. A kid is a kid, even when wearing the blood-streaked mask of a Bandit. She couldn't turn them away.

They were 18 when Hyperion came.

Ran again amidst the screams to do so, ran into the wastes of Pandora and a world that made more sense to them than the town being torn apart behind them. Missed her though, Pierce. She'd been kind. A lot of those people had been kind, and now they were dead. Hyperion, Atlas, same thing. Just monsters lead by monsters.

They'd walked to the Slabs, to a jovial King who mocked their size with a tone that both bristled their muscle and left them feeling... welcome. Not a home there either, not really, but there had been jobs to run and food to earn. They'd been allowed stay, and so they did. Stil a Hellion though, still Slag-burned and covered in their clan's flame emblems and splashes of neon across their gear.... still wearing Gutpunch's blood coated mask.

The Slab king had heaved himself into their cramped sleeping quarters one night and whispered that there was a funeral for her soon, Pierce. They could go if they wanted, he'd whispered from under that massive helm. Told them with a gentleness they'd never heard before that he understood loss, having things you loved taken away from you for no reason bar cruelty. That he remembered Old Haven and wished he didn't. That they should go. They'd be welcome there.

So JK had walked again, out of Thousand Cut's Slab fortress and to a somber funeral in the icy fields of Three horns that was filled with Crimson Raiders - a mix of Vault Hunters and ex Lance, and stood in memorial amidst people that made the blood under their skin burn, all to show the respect she'd earned to a woman who'd treated them like a human.

A merc now they figured, easier than being a wanderer and Sanctuary needed mercs. Found themselves in the bar some nights, wary eyes glaring from mismatched lenses as they sat silently at corner tables while watching the rest of the loud patrons, back against a wall and a clear exit always planned.

She'd noticed. She liked big 'n mysterious. Liked how her flirtations rolled off them and were replied to with genuine questions about her. Quiet, gentle-voiced comments about the drinks, how well she played her marks, how clever that gunbelt around her thigh was positioned for quick access if she needed to control a situation with more than just her looks.

Moxx liked this one, and a friendship slowly bloomed into something beautiful.

It had been her who had put their name forward when the leaders of the Raiders had become concerned over the darkness slowly seeping across Pandora's horizon, of the bizarre war cries of fanatics leading raids on smaller Bandit camps and shanty towns...

The "Children of the Vault" was a name being passed through hushed whispers in slums and rot-dives, and Lilith had rolled "Calypso" across her tongue enough times when reading scout reports to know the taste it was leaving behind wasn't anything good. They wanted an in, and what better spy to infiltrate a Bandit cult than a Bandit. Someone who understood clan hierarchy, who could report back in words she could understand from a viewpoint she could never see.

JK had been... wary. To say the least. The Raiders weren't friends, they'd filled their ranks with ex Crimson Lance like they hadn't committed atrocities, they mowed down Pandora's natives like mad Skags who needed extermination, and Krieg...

They all knew of Krieg. Everyone had seen how he'd been really treated. JK certainly had, but they also knew Krieg had been one foot into the great hunger, that he'd been so close to the flood that he'd spoken in half Psycho-cant and half Bandit, and tore at his skin to sate the itch of the song that the mad ones screamed about. That the raiders would let him burn alive in a fury if it meant a successful mission, and they couldn't help but wonder how respected he'd really been. Some kind of mix between respect and pity they figured, mocked behind his back as "Just another Psycho", someone who got the job done even if he limped back covered in blood and bullet holes, but was whispered about as needing to be watched.

He had been called a Raider, and yet - masks like his and JKs covered the command room's wall like trophies. Murderers of their clans walked Sanctuaries halls and narrowed untrusting eyes even at Krieg's hulking silhouette as he passed. It wasn't right, and JK struggled to feel as welcome as the others insisted they were now that they had a use.

But they'd taken the job, because Moxxi said they should and Moxxi was clever, Moxxi cared about them and wanted to see them be happy, so they'd agreed. She had whispered in an accent they’d learned from long nights in her company was for real things and not her act, that this would help people, that the COV was worrying her more than she was concerned about getting intel to Lilith, and they'd nodded in agreement.

Bandits don't congregate, Bandits don't merge clans under one banner... they wanted to know what this beast clawing into Pandora's soil was capable of. They'd heard the rumours like everyone else, twin Sirens apparently. Bullshit, everyone knew Sirens were women and there were only 6. Jack had hammered that information through Bandit clans and across Pandora's E-Com network clear enough. These were obviously frauds using trickery to control those eager to believe, wouldn't be the first time a Siren cult had used Bandit clans as a personal army, and JK had felt roiling disgust at the realisation what they were agreeing to do for Lilith? Just another shade of the exact same thing.

Funny, wasn't it. Very funny.

So they'd walked out of Sanctuary and towards the hub of the birthing COV.

They'd been 20 when they had first seen a real God.

The Holy City didn't exist yet, just a pile of rickety buildings thrown up by worshippers that surrounded an old Dahl fortress bleaching slowly in Pandora's sun. They called it "The Cathedral", but it looked like the crumbling bones of some great dead thing jutting from the red sands like a cracked skull. Maybe those were the same thing, JK had thought. A cathedral, and a beast of the flood. Both seemed like something that should be worshipped to them. They liked this place.

Neon paint and rusty metal spines were everywhere among the shantytown, raucous laughter cut through the clang of metal, and the air itself was heavy with an unmistakable stink of unwashed bodies and leather. They felt it so quickly as they'd crunched through the dirt paths that split the weaving rows of scrapped together tents, making their way to the recruitment line. A fleeting tickle of a sensation that hadn't filled their belly in so long. That this was like...

home.

The twins themselves were cagey and difficult to pull usable intel about. They gave sermons from the crumbling balconies of the fortress to the swathes of screaming acolytes below, too far for JK to get a clear eye on them but dressed like Sirens at least. Swirling loops of pacifying blue along the woman, and the man... jagged lines and curved whorls of a vicious red they'd never seen on any living or dead Witch. He was off. That one was wrong, and his sister made her agreement on that clear enough in how she acted next to him. She was the star, she was in the limelight, and he was relegated to a place behind her when she spoke to her worshippers and basked in their screeched worship. Odd for a "God-King" to be left in shadows, they'd thought.

Odd indeed.

They reported back to Lilith in Sanctuary whenever the opportunity arose to leave the growing "City", cult movement, basic info on what they could see as a blossoming threat to raiders, and it was always met with sneers of disgust and pity. Monsters, she'd sighed. Just using the bandits as fodder. JK's eyes flicked to the masks decorating the trophy wall behind her.

"Whatever you say, commander".

Mouthpiece had kept his word. Fully aware of what had happened to JK's clan and uncomfortable with seeing something he believed to be a walking curse among the COV's war parties, he'd purposefully sent them on suicide runs with some of the less physically capable recruits. "Trial by fire" he saw it as, simple logic when it came to survival on Pandora. Let the weak earn their place - if they die, they die. That's the law of the land, and losing the soft only leaves the clan stronger. Except, JK' scout parties just kept coming back. It had seemed almost a fluke the first couple of times, scouts didn't last long after all, but as it repeated again, and again, Mouthpiece and higher members of the raid parties began to notice.

A combination of Hellion war training and their years of working side by side with their brother had left an understanding of why having others watch your back was more beneficial than only caring about your own neck, especially when you weren't as big as the next guy. JK was a survivor, they'd never been willing to lay down and die so the rest of the clan could be down a "weak link", and their knife-edge instincts merged with a care for the other scouts not usually seen amongst Bandits meant they were teaching the team. Unifying them as a group who responded to signal whistles, barked cant, warcries that triggered defence formations and eyes on flanks. They were leading without being called a leader, and as that first year slowly ticked by, they were being noticed.

Sharp eyes that scrutinised numbers and statistics were watching the growing ratio of successful raids to lost bodies from the recessed shadows of the looming Cathedral while Jak-Knife trained and barked orders at recruits in the garrison that sprawled in the white hot sunlight below, and eventually, the day came where the God-King knew their name.

They'd stood shoulder to shoulder with their boys as they lined facing the burning light at Mouthpiece's demand. The mask lenses had done barely anything to block out Pandora's vicious sun as he'd approached, and they'd shuddered at the warchief's hissed warning to show due respect, or die where they stood. He wasn't accepting of failure, they knew that from the hushed whispers that spread across the camp at night. He expected perfection, and word from within the now sprawling architecture of the growing Cathedral was that neither twin took insult lightly. She sucked the life out of the undeserving and he, well, he supposedly just ripped heretics clean apart.

Father Troy had been all sharp angles and gaunt bone as he'd stopped his slow pace in front of them and hunched to lean down to their eye level. They'd realised how wrong they'd been about his appearance as the heavy furs that splayed across his shoulders like a mantle blotted out the sun behind him and framed his jagged silhouette in light.

Tyreen wasn't short.

Troy was a monster.

It had been hard to pick up on his scale when they'd only seen him next to his sister, they'd just figured she was a smaller woman and him a tall man, but the reality of his size was beyond intimidating now that they could see with frightening intimacy that the scrapped together prosthetic that he held at his side so effortlessly was as long as they were tall.

A glint of gold teeth through a smile they'd thought more Skag than human snapped them out of their shock, and he'd congratulated them. Thanked the "Jak-Knife" he'd been watching so closely for their excellent work on the field, waved the disturbingly proportioned metal claws of his arm towards their team and praised their group promotion, slathered honey-thick words from a barbed tongue about how they'd be blessed by being the honour guard for a God now - a fine reward for their outstanding work... yes?

The others had gasped in stuttered praise and whimpered thanks while Jk had nodded respectfully, knowing damn well that Calypso wasn't really asking at all.

The newly titled vanguard escorted him everywhere, and that meant a shift in JK's life within the blossoming city that they could not have prepared for. They no longer slept on bare ground when not visiting Sanctuary for updates, they were brought into the twin's cathedral, were able to see its glory with their own eyes for the first time. The inside wasn't anything like the still decrepit outer walls surrounded by scaffolding that workers scurried across like ants, it was like nothing Jak-Knife had ever seen.

A bastion of worship, vast cavernous stone halls spread with clan banners in colours they'd almost forgotten, neon blazing lights framing sprawling stained glass windows depicting Saints and Clergy who's names they'd heard but never put a face to.

Ur-Aurum, scowling from under heavy brows, framed in monochrome and gold. Coins and bullets pouring from his open palms.

Ur-Machina, sharp and vibrant in reds and coppers, oil-stained hands resting gently on the slab of gilded war tech she rested daintily against.

Ur-Vendit, pristine in parallel lines and perfect angles, sneering through a swathe of shining colours as numbers and cash totals ran like ivy through the window's frame.

And something new that had been being assembled along the great hall when they first entered, a half-finished window titled "Oracle" - just the fine lines of lead and a great, staring eye all that they could make out as they followed the priest irritably urging the vanguard group to hurry as they were lead to their chambers.

For the first time they had experienced, JK not only belonged, but they were envied. Their gear was decorated, armour and weapons upgraded at the Father's blessing, and the titles that came with the role were impossible to avoid, whispered in reverence by warriors who would have spat at their feet only a few years ago.

God-King's chosen, God-King's first, God-King's hand, the nods of respect passed to them by warlords like Mouthpiece in passing filled their chest with pride under the weight of its binder, and the trips back to Sanctuary became... harder.

For all they had achieved within the now monstrous in scale COV, the Raiders saw them no differently than they had when they'd first sat alone in Moxxi's. They were still a Bandit, and nothing more. JK was side-eyed, muttered about, treated like an outsider who needed to earn their keep by passing on intel they were risking their life for, all while in the back of their mind being more than aware that they could have this place raised to the ground with a damn WORD. Lilith didn't understand what it meant to be as close to Calypso as they were, that they were beginning to earn his ear.

She wasn't aware that a fucking God cared about their opinion enough to ask for it on long technical rides or when escorting him between meetings, to her, and to the rest of the Raiders, they were still simply a lost native behind a mask that was being handed scraps of decency by people better than them - and the strain of that reality was difficult to ignore. Moxxi tried her best, always there to console and remind them she valued who they were, the beautiful mind they had shared with her in tender moments and long intimate conversations over the last few years, but the insult burned in their gut still.

They weren't just Jak-Knife. They were the God King's chosen, and they were betraying someone who valued them to share internal information on Saints and departments, cashflow and raids, with people who willingly partnered with the Crimson Lance, people who just plain did not seem to understand who they were, what they had earned through sacrifice and blood shed.

But Troy? The longer they spent around Troy the more his own mask began to slip, and the harder it came to see him as any form of enemy. The blessed Father couldn't hide his weak spells or the times illness left him barely able to stand from a bodyguard who was at his side almost every waking moment, there was no way to do so regardless of how much he clearly wished there was. JK saw everything... the spasms, the fainting, heard the whistling of weak lungs when in silence next to the damaged God, saw the black circles under his eyes that the expertly applied makeup he wore could hide at a distance. He'd been aggressive about it at first, vicious and hurtful in his reactions when they'd try and assist, but over time, as they made clear that the mockery and pity he was expecting was not going to come, he'd softened. He'd thanked Jak-Knife one night as they scraped together a fire on the salt flats to chase the bitter cold away and keep their king warm.

A God had looked at them with ice blue eyes that reminded them of a face they could no longer remember, and whispered genuine appreciation for them. How could they continue to betray him. How could they hurt him for people who didn't even count JK as human?

They saw a delicate and sickly side of one of the twin God's that felt wrong to share with the raiders, that left a bad taste in their mouth to discuss with Lilith, so they simply didn't. The rationalised that the raiders did not need to know about the self-doubt or painful loss JK saw crack through Troy's facade in private, the raiders didn't need an update on how one of the twins wasn't healthy, that he could struggle sometimes to get to his feet before an audience, or would need a discreet support from the solid weight of their muscle next to his spindly frame after some events.

Lilith didn't need to know it, and as time passed, JK found they were beginning to keep secrets. Little ones at first, justified under the intel not being valuable, but the ease of witholding useful data only increased. Their position, the growing camaraderie with the COV's grunts and militia, the respect in the eyes of worshippers who looked to the Vanguard all fed into the slow realisation that their loyalty simple did not belong to the Vault Hunters, it was to Moxxi, who loved them. It was to Troy, who every day became closer to the memory of Gutpunch they'd try and visualise on lonely nights, see his crooked smile and cool eyes flicker across a face they could no longer place.

The closer JK got with the man behind the King's mask, the harder it became to give over information to the raiders that had any real tactical value...

And that had been Troy's plan, ever since the day he'd discreetly planted a tracker on them while they'd squinted against the blinding sunlight to first look into the face of a God.

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Hello. You said before that you wrote a supernatural fanfic that you lost? I was just wondering if you could say what it was about (if you want to, I don't want to be a bother)? I read some of your other fics and while I don't understand a lot because I'm not in those fandoms I feel like you would have a better end of Supernatural than whatever that was we just got (If you've heard about that). Sorry for long ask, thank you if you answer or if you don't!

Oh, I’ve heard about it, LMAO! 

I used to be deep in the SPN fandom on tumblr. Went to a con, met Jared, Jensen, Misha, Jim (got a photo with all 4 of them!), Kim, Rachel, Richard, Matt, and even met Genevieve in passing! Oh, and the guy who played Dick the Leviathan. I totally blank on his name. I think I bailed around season... 8 or 9? 

Kind of rage-quit after they killed off Kevin. At that point they’d just done too much of that crap in a single season and it was pretty obvious they’d lost any semblance of care for the writing, so I bailed.

I’m fine talking about the plot of my fic. When I’d had time to process the shock of losing more than 200 pages of writing *sobs* I posted a summary of how it was supposed to go for my readers. When I do that it’s my way of saying “I quit forever”.

I’ll put the main answer below the cut, since it’ll probably end up being long. My fic was in the form of an entire season of SPN, one 45-47 page chapter per “episode”, so it’s a bit to summarize...

The story took place at some indeterminate point after Season 6. It was written to be independent of the Leviathan Storyline, but really could fit in just about anywhere. I think I’d used details from the season where Sam Carter from SG1/SGA was an evil angel lady, but also it was heavily anchored in Seasons 1-6.

It started with mass destruction in this one town. In the middle of the crater something ragged and uncontrolled and evil appeared. Seriously- destruction was the core of it all. Pure, raw, uncontained power lashing out at everything.

And then the creature at the center of the swarm starts to walk away, leaving a path of destruction behind it.

After a chapter or two of monster-of-the-week type stuff, Sam and Dean started hearing whispers of this thing. Like it was circling them. Through Cas they find out that Heaven is on edge- something has escaped from the deepest, darkest corners of Heaven’s Prison (Dean makes a comment about how hell is supposed to be heaven’s prison, but Cas explains that there are some things too horrible to be sent to hell, away from the watchful guard of angels).

My favorite chapter of anything I’ve ever written opened with people shopping in a store in some small town, kind of a boutique store, and there is a sudden violent quake, everything goes pitch black, then kind of orange. They hear strange noises and long story short Hell is basically growing unstable, collapsing on itself, and this store just randomly fell into Hell. With all the dicking around on the surface with the apocalypse and Leviathans and whatever the fuck else, reality is essentially collapsing in on itself. Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, and the mortal world are all colliding.

Sam and Dean are trying to figure out why this store just kind of vanished (the authorities say sinkhole but it’s basically a crater where this thing once stood) when Sam collapses.

Dean gets him to the hospital and is suddenly dizzy. He turns and finds himself trapped in his own mind, where the thing circling them appears. It needs something from Hell, Dean needs to save the humans, and neither can complete their goal without the other.

The woman (it is all in black and appears to have no face, but speaks with a female voice) has ripped a piece of Sam’s soul away. He is trapped in horrific agony and the woman will leave him there forever if Dean doesn’t help her.

She manages to open a path between this world and hell and Dean goes back to hell with her.

When they return (somewhat victorious but it’s very gory and a lot of people died), Dean has no idea what it is she’s taken. But also where there was once swirling black mist under the hood of her cloak, there is a face rotted, ripped, and destroyed.

Adventures, Adventures, Adventures

The boys cross paths with the woman again. She’s stronger now and her face is looking more human-esque. Castiel is also extremely agitated as he learns about this woman and all he’ll tell Dean is that he needs to kill her on sight. Castiel gives Dean one of the angelic blades for protection (Cas was with them for a lot of the story but I can’t remember what I had him doing). 

Dean comes across this thing again, it is standing over Sam as he screams and writhes and so he stabs it with the angelic blade- the thing that should kill anything.

It doesn’t do shit.

Adventure, drama and whatnot later (around what would be episode 19) the story comes out in fits and bursts:

Once upon a time, in the 1600s, Zachariah decided to make an apocalyptic safety net. He manipulated events to bring together a Campbell and Winchester line (implied Sam and Dean are descended from siblings of these two). The couple had two children- Elizabeth (older) and Matthew (younger).

Two powerful demon hunting families were outcasts in their village. They were forced to live far from the main settlement, and one day the villagers went all witch-hunt-ie and burned the parents alive. Elizabeth and Matthew (only a small child) were left alone.

One winter, as Matthew was dying and Elizabeth- barely alive herself- was hunting in the forest, she came across a young native American man. It was love at first sight. She collapses and he follows her tracks to carry her back to her hovel. When she comes to he’s built a fire, prepared some food (Elizabeth was a shit hunter, couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn from 3 feet away), and has also given Matthew some herbs that help break his fever.

Elizabeth and the young man (I can’t remember what name i gave him) fell deeper in love over that winter. But right when she starts to think things are getting better, the villagers are incensed. They attack, and make Elizabeth watch as they burn Matthew and her love. At this point Matthew is like 6, so, you know, truamatic.

Elizabeth is deemed a feeble-minded woman and kind of thrown aside. That night she goes on a rampage and murders a lot of the villagers in their beds before they catch her and hang her.

But that wasn’t the end of Elizabeth Winchester’s story. It was the beginning.

Elizabeth was a safety net for the apocalypse. Her soul should have gone to Hell for what she did, but instead Zachariah dragged her up into Heaven’s Prison. There, Zachariah tortured Elizabeth for 400 years (which is idk in heaven-time, there is a whole segment of the fandom who analyzes the time in heaven/hell vs on earth).

She became, essentially, a demon made by Heaven itself. They were trying to get her to say ‘yes’ to Michael. That way, if Dean proved to be a turd (spoiler alert: the biggest turd), heaven could resurrect Elizabeth and Michael has a backup. One of the main tortures Zachariah employed was literally strapping angelic grace to her. Demons on Earth are burned up when they catch a glimpse of Grace, but in Heaven she couldn’t even die, so it both drove her overwhelmingly insane and also made her incredibly powerful.

After Zachariah’s death she was forgotten, and left in her cage with that grace burning her soul for years.

Bobby, Jo, Ellen, etc. canonically wander through heaven at-will, evading angels when needed. They were the ones who found their way into the prison and brought her out, but too quickly lost control of her and she returned to the world of the living herself.

A demon with the grace of an archangel.

Bobby, Jo, Ellen, etc. made a pact with her- they let her go, she enters the Cage and destroys both Lucifer AND Michael.

What appeared to be Elizabeth torturing Sam (it kinda was- she’s half demon remember) was also a sort of act of kindness. Sam’s soul was still lashed to The Cage. It was covered in the markings of that place, and when he died it would suck his soul back in. Elizabeth was removing those marks- essentially skinning Sam’s soul and applying those pieces to herself to give her access to the Cage. Taking Dean with her to Hell was also so she could get something that would help her in the Cage.

As they are preparing for her to rip apart the rest of the marks on Sam’s soul (which may kill him), Heaven is trying to intervene to stop her (because Team Michael and they want the apocalypse back on track). They send an archangel to stop her--

The young man she’d fallen in love with back when she was human.

It turns out the man was an angel all along- he played her and arranged his own horrible end (and that of her brother) to push her over the edge. They needed a pure soul with a bit of demonic power to maybe give Elizabeth an edge as a vessel for Michael.

She rips the grace out of the angel. Zachariah’s torture- constantly strapping her to a grace and ripping it away taught her how. It is the most agonizing and horrific end to an angel possible, her act of vengeance.

Eventually Elizabeth would make it to Hell, rip Michael’s grace from Adam, and the Cage would seal behind her after she sent Adam back up. There was going to be a sequel (second season) in which Elizabeth returns.

Her relationship with Sam and Dean in “season 1″ was very contentious and kind of frenemy-esque (think Meg at times). “Season 2″ was going to be more about her just not knowing what to do now. She can’t trust heaven or hell, so she kind of ends up lost and following the Winchesters on their hunts without them noticing her at first or being able to speak to her (like she only shows up sometimes and then vanishes again).

“Season 2″ wasn’t really planned out, but by the end of it they’d have found out Chuck was God. As a sort of apology/ way to get them to stop constantly resurrecting people in the goddamn show/ reward Elizabeth’s soul was “healed” of it’s demonic edge, the Grace would fully anchor (making her an archangel), and she would be given a new realm of death to rule over- one for hunters or supernatural creatures who had been resurrected or in some way used by Heaven or Hell to spend their afterlife at peace.

No chance of resurrection, no matter the spell, and no interference even by other archangels. The hunters dicking around with the paths through heaven would be sent there too (for their protection, the angels in heaven were starting to hunt them in return).

I feel like I’m missing details, I somewhat repress my memories of this fic because losing it was that traumatic, but yeah. That was the general thrust of it.