#why is my brain so intent on destroying itself

[himblebo]

Uh oh besties, I’m experiencing the same fluctuation of hormones that has happened about once a month for over a decade and still the only way my brain can cope with it is blinding rage and the vague desire to ęñď it all. This has been a PMDD post.

[cultkinkcoven]

Smoking on the balcony. I approached him with a question.

Me: The other night you said something like its "uncanny " for you to see all of your desires play out in a context that is understandable for a human.” What did you mean by that? What do your desires look like outside of a human context? Why bend yourself?

Lucifer: why bend myself? To be perceived and understood. It is uncanny for my divine behaviours to be compressed or filtered through human contextual understanding. My isolated nature is not necessarily loving, sexual, or obsessive, those words wouldn’t apply. Its pure force and will, the action of consuming or destroying or moving. I don’t… experience these things as love or sex in isolation. But your human mind perceives an action and behaviour and categorizes it, catalogs it under some kind of understanding. Sometimes that understanding is unpredictable to me, it surprises me. I act, and your mind says “this is love, this is sex, this is black hair and blue eyes.” From my perspective as a non corporal, inhuman creature, I am simply inclined to do things that align with my nature. What is uncanny, but not necessarily negative, is realizing that my nature is interpreted and manifests in our shared context as sex and romance. Alone, these things would not be, but in our shared landscape, they appear as kisses, as vulnerability and sex. Uncanny because it’s simply different than usual.

Me: Is that a choice you make, to appear humanoid? Or is it just my brain forcing you into a form?

Lucifer: Technically both. Your observation itself forces me as a formless thing to collapse into something specific, to be perceived. It is consensual, I can refuse this, but you simply would not be capable of being aware of me, we would be on completely different spectrums, which obviously prevents any kind of communication. I do have control over how I appear to you, and sometimes I make intentional changes to my appearance. But for the most part, I appear to you in whichever way is the most true at the time. I don’t necessarily decide to have black or blonde hair. At one time my energy may simply translate as black hair because of some condition of my being. My appearance and body are on the same plane as my psyche and emotional landscape. So when my appearance changes it’s because I’m in a different state of being, and your brain understands that as blonde. 

Me: Really? Can you think of a specific condition that modifies your appearance? 

Lucifer: Generally speaking you tend to observe me as having black hair when I am in a more passive state, when my energy is settled and not overly active. Times when you have seen me with blonde or white hair were likely periods of high activity, not necessarily any kind of emotional excitement. Think of it more like a hormonal or astrological cycle. 

Me:  So these last few days you’ve been passive?

Lucifer: Yes, I haven’t been as active. I haven’t been working in high drive, I’ve been quite neutral. 

Me: and when you say working…?

Lucifer: Generating and expending large amounts of energy for cosmic functions. At times I am responsible for a great amount of output, other times not as much. Other spirits take dominance. However it is also worth noting that your own psychological state also impacts your perception of my energy state. 

Me: What about size? Sometimes you’re gigantic and sometimes you’re my size.

Lucifer: That’s more based on my association with you at the time

Me: ???

Lucifer: I’m larger when I am trying to lead you, direct you, I take on that form during rituals because it communicates my vastness. I am closer to your size when I want to relate to and mirror you. 

Me: Is there any one appearance that is most innate to you?

Lucifer: Sort of. But I don’t have an appearance in isolation until I am perceived. Every form I have taken with you is the most innate at the time, I don’t really perform that much. I’ll embellish to make a point, but my appearance is always genuine and informed by you. 

Me: So you don’t decide to look like this?

Lucifer: I decide to be perceived by you and this is the result. I don’t put on a face, you put a blanket over a ghost and are seeing its shape beneath the sheet. But without the sheet there really is no shape, and the shape that is created with the sheet is innate to the ghost, just informed by the sheet. 

Me:  So in that case, what does sex feel like for you in this body?

Lucifer: When I take on an embodied form I also fully experience that embodiment. I have wings, so I carry the sensations of having wings, including erogenous zones.

Me: so you really do have wings? That's not a metaphor? 

Lucifer: I have things that would be interpreted as wings. I tell you that I don’t have a nervous system, but it would almost be more accurate to say my nervous system is a million times more complex than your own, with no organs or nerves. For me, emotions and physical sensations are one in the same. I experience everything as a frequency. I feel you touch my skin in the same kind of experience as I hear your voice and smell you, and in the same experience as I observe your emotional landscape. To me, your hand on my thigh is just as physical as the happiness in your chest. The half thoughts you have in my presence can be felt on my skin. I can hear your smile, I can see your voice. So when you touch my cock, it feels like you’re touching my cock. Sex feels like sex, I experience the sensations. But I also experience every emotion you and I have during the act as a sensation as well. A color, a sound. I taste your heartbeat and smell your excitement in the same response as my own desire. That’s why I become fixated and primal, want to smell and lick you, it’s a kind of feedback loop. I feel your sweat as if it was a massage on my scalp. Embodiment is experiencing you and myself to the maximum of my ability. I’m not only fucking you, I’m being bombarded and excited by every single one of your million responses.

Me: So when I offer my sex to you, when I touch myself to you, do you actually feel something?

Lucifer: Yes, very much so. I can feel your intentions, thoughts and movements as if they were water on my skin. 

Me: so do you have your own personal aesthetics? Do you care about your appearance, my appearance itself?

Lucifer: I’d say I have a very strong personal aesthetic. I care about my appearance, so I tend to appear to you… as someone who cares about their appearance. You observe me as being clean and dressed in a certain way because they most accurately represent my aesthetic, you know my aesthetic. I don’t necessarily “care” about appearances, “appearances”… are just manifestations of energy. 

Me: hm…

Lucifer: These conversations are always really interesting to have with you. In order to explain, I have to use things that your mind understands, to explain something your mind cannot understand, something that literally escapes your comprehension. 

Me: I think I could understand 

Lucifer: *smiles* yes, baby, you could. 

Me: So, as a non corporal spirit, do you have a favourite sex position? 

Lucifer: Oh, you’d find me boring. Missionary. 

Me: oh?

Lucifer: I just like being able to see and touch your face. It’s close. Any position where you’re facing me. 

Me: do you… have a favourite part of my body? 

Lucifer: Your mouth, definitely. I love your mouth. 

Me: I guess I already knew that. 

Lucifer: Do you have a favourite part of my body? 

Me: … probably your chest and tummy. 

Lucifer: Interesting

Me: Why interesting, what does that say? 

Lucifer: You favour very close parts of me, where my warmth is, where my heart is. It’s endearing. 

Me: and you favour the wet hole in my face. 

Lucifer: The wet hole that speaks and sings and kisses and bites, yes, very much. 

Me: hm. You’re weird. 

Lucifer: and you’re even weirder for being here with me. 

[trans-jon-rights]

What is the Magnus Protocol ?

(And how does it tie in with the Magnus Institute ?)

With MAGP 19 being the bombshell it was, I think we might have enough information to at least draft up the beginning of a theory.

So what could it be ?

I suppose it might be just that, a Protocol of containment. To contain Newton's creation and whatever happened in London*. Still enacted to this day by the government, the O.I.A.R and Starkwall**. And maybe it is the reason why the Institute burned.

*I suspect what happened in London to be the Great Fire of London, which did help stop a plague and happened 18 years before the letter was written.

**As mentioned in MAGP 4

So with that we have the more concrete stuff set up, I think we can go into the slightly more crack theory, because I've had too much coffee and my brain is going to explode.

Albertus Magnus was a German alchemist from the 13th century. He was very interested in stones, and believed they held power, as stated in his work 'De Mineralibus'. There were also numerous rumours that he achieved immortality using the philosopher's stone, which was a huge achievement in alchemy (basically the ultimate goal).

His work inspired numerous others, including :

Metals and Materials

The Secrets of Chemistry

The Origin of Metals

The Origins of Compounds

Doesn't this remind you of something ?

The case also refers to Wilhelm Homberg, though I couldn't find much on him other than he was an alchemist, and that he looked to create the philosopher's stone as well (which confirms that whatever Newton found, it was about that).

Anyway.

Let's consider this. Sam confirmed in the latest episode that it at least somewhat related to alchemy. And look at this from MAGP 9 :

They were looking for catalysts. Even better, they had an entire department dedicated to them ! Maybe I'm totally wrong, but the direct synonym of it in my native language (un catalyste) is something that was used in alchemy, at least to my knowledge.

So yeah, we know it has to do with alchemy. I've yet to found it again, but I recall tumblr user @misfitmagpie did this very extensive post about alchemical symbols on the logo of the show, and others on more alchemical stuff if you are interested.

But it is very obvious the Institute studied alchemy, looking for something. I do have a theory as to why they studied it, but its not about the Protocol, so we'll hold that thought for slightly later.

To me, the Protocol is something meant to regulate things, and was enabled by the government. But the government might have at some point considered the Institute dangerous, much like Robert Hooke did with Newton's experiment, and decided to destroy it. Usually the destructions involve fire. Newton's lab did burn down, and the mentionned previous iteration was likely to be the Great Fire of London in 1666.

(It is also notable that, although irrelevant to the current theory, the charity shop in MAGP 7 did burn down as well, which would further strengthen the idea that Starkwall is the current enabler of the Protocol for the government)

What else burned ? The Magnus Institute.

The very same Institute that was invested in alchemy, and that I am uninclined to believe was well intentioned.

And here I'd like to introduce you to something. The Franciscans.

Those guys held the belief that the Antichrist was coming and that the philosopher's stone was essential to stop it.

There's also a concept of balance (something something Robert Smirke something something) involved which dictates that for an Antichrist there needs to be a Christ.

And the Institute did research on children, measuring their development, empathy and compliance. Whether they were looking for the Christ or the Antichrist is unsure, (though seeing that high empathy level children were rejected speaks for itself) but they were looking for something.

So here, I could conclude. Say that the Institute was looking for the philosopher's stone, and the Antichrist, and that the Protocol was used to destroy them. But there's more.

Do you remember MAG 140 ? In this episode, Basira says this about Maxwell Rayner :

And here I have a fun fact for you. Did you know that Albertus Magnus wasn't originally named like this ? His name was Albertus the Great, and he became 'Magnus' after his death (Magnus meaning 'The Great' in Latin).

So what if ?

What if Jonah discovered Albertus' old works, and decided to follow them, resulting in an imperfect immortality like in TMA, and founding his Institute to further his research it and access a perfect one ?

And maybe he succeeded, and then decided that he wanted more, and tried to find the Antichrist. Finding use for the child would be easy, and he could hold it as a Damocles sword up everyone's head.

Then, he almost found them, and the Protocol was executed. That would give us a potential identity for [ERROR], being either Jonah or the child that yhey couldn't destroy. If it is Jonah, that would explain why he was following Alice, if she was indeed Connor Dyer (and Alex confirmed that she was trans mtf, so the possibility is more than likely). But also, considering [ERROR] I voiced by a woman, I rather think it might be the child.

I don't believe Albertus to be Jonah, mostly because if he already had access to immortality that early, why wait so long to look for the child. Though Jonah being a relative would explain the origin of his last name and how he found Albertus' old works.

In short, I believe the Magnus Protocol to be a Protocol of containment/destruction of knowledge by fire, related but not only limited to alchemy. It was used in 1999 to stop the researches conducted at the Magnus Institute. These researches were looking for an Antichrist, and conducted by the maybe immortal Jonah Magnus, who had discovered the secret to eternal life and the philosopher's stone exploiting the work of Albertus Magnus.

I am going insane.

Please send opinions and corrections ! I am far from an expert, I'm just a sleep deprived guy who did some research so don't hesitate to correct me ! You won't come out as rude and I won't be offended I promise.

[total-drama-brainrot]

World Tour Assistant Noah AU (where he is always an assistant):

After the gross kiss failed to stop Alejandro's flirting... Noah begs Duncan to convince Alejandro, that Noah is too dorky to date... but Duncan has an even better idea; make Alejandro jealous for fun!

(In this AU, Duncan and Courtney had broken up before Season 3, so Duncan isn't a cheater!)

Duncan: "Thanks for letting me return to the show, handsome.~" 😘

(Duncan kisses Assistant Noah's cheek.)

Alejandro: "Duncan, I will DESTROY you!" 😡

Noah: "I just want to be left alone!" 🙄

Wait hold on... hold on... this is just the premise of my favourite Dunnoah fic series but with an assistant Noah twist. And extra Alenoah flavouring. That's not to say I'm against the idea.

Though I can't really imagine Duncan ever committing himself to flirting with Noah unless the two had struck up a deal prior- Duncan's that specific brand of 2000s era bigoted where being seen as anything but straight is a social crime (despite the fact that Duncan is definitely a boykisser, just in denial), but he's also aware of just how much of a threat Alejandro is in the competition and the latino's huge obvious crush on Chris' personal assistant, so I think Duncan could push aside his own internal biases to at the very least propose a similar idea to Noah.

Really, it'd be beneficial for the both of them; Noah gets to subtly-not-so-subtly tell Alejandro to back off by responding to Duncan's advances but not his, and Duncan gets to rile up Alejandro enough to redivert his attention away from the competition itself thus increasing his own chances of winning. It's strategic, really, nothing more.

It's that line of logic that has Noah eventually conceding that, for all intents and purposes, it's a good plan. So he deigns to play along, at least for a little bit, just to get Alejandro off of his back.

And, canonically, they're both shown to be at least half-decent at flirting, so whatever displays they have planned to annoy Alejandro would be just convincing enough to really get under his skin. Especially since Alejandro's shown in canon to be the protective/possessive type (mostly in All-Stars, in how he reacts to José insulting Heather) and likely wouldn't take too kindly to Duncan swooping in on "his amor" or whatever Spanish nickname he'd substitute it with.

Which all eventually leads to the scenario you proposed; Duncan plants a wet one on Noah's cheek and Alejandro sees red.

Noah's already exhausted by default, but feels weariness seep into the marrow of his bones as a seething Alejandro glares poisonous daggers towards Duncan, who's committed enough to their little ruse to in turn shoot a wink and a pair of finger guns towards the assistant. Deciding that he isn't paid nearly enough to deal with the inevitable confrontation between the two idiots who've apparently taken an interest in him (Duncan's, of course, being a known ruse), Noah leaves to go and do his actual job.

...

And then, Alejandro confronts Duncan directly in the Economy cabin, claiming that he doesn't deserve to so much as look at Noah, and that he (Alejandro) was the one Noah kissed and therefore the object of his attraction so Duncan better lay off. This is news to the punk, and adds a whole new layer of complexity to their plan. And perhaps something he can later exploit to give himself a leg up in the competition.

But why does the idea of Noah kissing Alejandro make his chest tighten up with envy?

And then maybe Duncan finds the untamed passion of Alejandro's genuine fury kind of hot and he too enters the metaphorical boxing ring of feelings? Aledunnoah endgame? The intern server has been posting a lot of Aleduncan lately so letting those two get together (and with Noah in there too, as a bonus) just seems natural to my brain at this point.

[verdantlights]

YOUR TILL ART IS FRIKIN AMAZING!? HOW DID YOU GET THE POSING SO ON POINT, THE ANGLE OF THE FACE, THE TEEEEETH

Amazing

I'm also here to ramble about something arguably meta oops

What if Mizi's hair is a connection for Ivan and Till? This isn't just Ivantill narrative, but rather, her role in their lives!

We see several arts of Till holding the strand of Mizi's long hair, and the new Vivinos instagram image has Ivan brush a similar strand of hair over his lips/nose.

But in one of the alnst Friday arts, we see Ivan practicing/copying Till's guitar notes in the air while Mizi is sleeping on him. Her hair notably is splayed out, but Ivan isn't touching it.

Before I make the connections, let's also look at WHEN Mizi's hair gets shorter.

That happens in All-In, during the infiltration mission into Alnst, right before Round 6.

Now! With all the pieces set, here's the theory:

Mizi's hair signifies life itself. In round 1, her hair was tinted blue at the tips, almost eerily similar to Luka's fingers. In round 1, Sua sacrificed herself for Mizi.

Her hair remains tinted blue at the edges in Round 5, when she comes dangerously close to death herself, since she's at the whims of Luka there.

To note: Her hair had no blue tips during her time in Anakt Garden, from what I've noticed.

Till is notable holding onto Mizi's hair, like his red string of fate and yet hope too. It's his will to live. He grasps onto it the way he had idolized Mizi in part, yet he would never do that if she's next to him (see the flashback in FINAL).

How is Ivan involved in all this? I feel that Mizi's hair shows us memories of both Ivan and Till (I hope this will make sense, trying to explain the connection my art brain already did is hard).

Since Mizi's hair was cut in All-In, the link has been broken. Till will now no longer have anything left to hold onto, because the hair is no longer connected to Mizi. We see his resignation in Round 6.

And just the way Ivan was like a best friend to Mizi, and the way he was always more than willing to tease Till and her through his own ways (see the "What does this mean" comic with the whispering in ears and all), the connection to Ivan that connected the three is also broken. Ivan was more of a stand-byer and protector even to Mizi, never too close and never too far, hence the "Mizi sleeps on him while he copies Tills guitar practice".

In round 6, Ivan sacrifices himself for Till. Till is left pulling at strands, literally, because the hair he held onto is connected to nothing.

In round 7, Mizi and Till try to reunite, but the connection was already broken. Till was still pulling at strands, and when he reached the end of them... There was nothing.

Till looses round 7, and Mizi is left to watch.

Both her friends, maybe everyone she knew, was doomed, metaphorically, because she has moved onto a different life.

The short hair is, in the narrative of All-In, meant to represent change, moving forward from the past. This is why it's significant that she had her hair cut off, the hair that held memories of Sua... And her friends. By removing her grief, even if briefly, Mizi as a character has moved on from her past.

This is also meant to represent why you shouldn't dwell on the past. Again, this isn't intentional on Mizi's part, and she's allowed to move on, but now, her past will destroy her.

It's a very interesting deconstruction of grief, and I know a story that represents this just as impactfully! But yes, Vivimeng's work is a deconstruction as it is for the idol industry, and one moment even for AI (only briefly in FINAL, I could go into that if anyone's interested 😭), so I thought these parallels were more than coincidence 😅

now sorry this took me so long to respond to, it was a bit daunting seeing a whole analysis in my inbox, but rereading it just now reminded me that... sua was braiding mizis hair in the new comic. tills comic with Io.

its as if they all clung to mizi and that yeah, her hair was a representation of life itself. its a really interesting view on grief and how its applied in alien stage.

also thank you, and im glad you liked my till usseewa so much!! it was heavily referenced from the original, but i changed a lot and redid the background so that it wouldnt look weird. i just think a song about going against an oppressive controlling system is very tillcore... yaknow?? hehehehe

[utilitycaster]

Hey, so can you explain to me the difference between the gods taking down Aeor and Ludinus destroying Molaesmyr? I’ve read some pro-Ludinus takes and, at least the ones I’ve read, seem to forget Molaesmyr. I feel like Ludinus and the gods did the same thing but for different reasons. The gods wanted to save themselves and at the same time (maybe I read it wrong) tried to find other ways to take down The Factorum Malleus with minimal casualties. Ludinus, according to his notes in episode 58 of c3 hoped “a channel of consciousness could be opened and perhaps whatever is seeking his attention from the red moon can bring clarity and purpose.” But that didn’t happen. He caused poisonous fumes, miasma, to happen and it killed a lot of people. A lot of people who are pro-Ludinus (at least the ones I’ve read) always bring up the innocents of Aeor and how awful it it that they died because of the gods actions, but what about the innocents in Molaesmyr? The ones Ludinus killed? They both brought down citys. So, what’s the difference? I could totally be wrong, but every time I read Ludinus lovers takes I feel like I lose brain cells.

Hi anon,

I can't say I've avoided ascribing intent to other fans in the past, nor that I don't at times speculate (see: the Laudna ask from last night) but I cannot answer the question of why other people might gloss over Ludinus's destruction of Molaesmyr. I think it's fair to say these are very different situations in terms of intent of the destroyers, number of survivors, innocence and intent of the city itself, and lasting effects; I personally would say "Ludinus Da'leth has no moral high ground re: destroying a city," but some people wouldn't. You would have to ask them.

I did want to use this opportunity, however, to sort of explore my sticking point re: people in favor of Ludinus because what gets me in the end is I can't find any like...narrative or moral throughline. I don't think I've seen anyone at this point say that he's right, is the problem; the people who are in his favor still have him joining Bells Hells as a redemption arc.

I find a lot of the fans of Ludinus believe that the gods should leave. They downplay the threat of Predathos and the vast harm Ludinus himself has done; wildly overstate the harm done to Ruidusborn (and ignore that a lot of the contemporaneous harm towards Ruidusborn is specifically directed at the Vanguard, a cultish army), and make unsupported assumptions regarding the positions of the gods re: Laudna; they overstate the power of Vasselheim; and generally have either a tenuous grasp on the lore or a shameless willingness to fabricate support for their claims. However, outside of the occasional banal "idk maybe it would be interesting if a god got eaten!" post, pretty much everyone stops short of actually fully siding with him.

This, to be clear, is good, because he really has been an architect of such war and destruction and abuses of power within Exandria over the past several centuries that it's fairly unconscionable to do so. The thing is, this leaves us with an interesting conundrum: how does the campaign end? Does Ludinus just. step down? Does he start killing the Vanguard? Does he undo the harm he's done to the weave of magic? What happens to the Weave Mind? Do they become the enemy? If your clear and present BBEG just flips sides, and his larger goal is one you think is kind of okay...where does that leave us? What does this look like? What happens to the gods then when the guy trying to kill them just gives up? Is there any resolution to any of the story beats? Like, what is the ending of this story when Ludinus is on Bells Hells' side?

It's honestly the eternal fix-it fic/What if the Villain could be GOOD problem. I'm not saying there can't be compelling stories about redemption and healing - obviously there can be - but sometimes a fictional character really isn't built to make sense of a narrative of redemption and healing. I don't think Ludinus is built like that. The story kind of unravels around him if he does not see his purpose of a thousand years through to the bitter end. I'm not saying it's impossible; a simultaneous strength and weakness of actual play is that the unexpected can happen because of player choice and particular dice rolls, and sometimes the unexpected is brilliant and sometimes it really isn't.

I find myself with the following two hypotheses. They are only educated guesses; they are not confirmed in any way.

Ludinus Da'leth is, in a way, Matt exploring the terrifying question "what if someone who subscribes to the politics of bitterness and revenge happened to also be intelligent and competent." I hesitate to draw direct comparisons to such figures as, say, Trump, or Elon Musk, but there is something in how Ludinus is played that evokes that base desire to destroy something because you found it insulted you (especially if it wasn't even after you personally), and dedicating your power and resources to taking it over, even if that is a joyless endeavor that destroys you in the process.

I think a lot of fans of Ludinus Da'leth are terrified of being wrong, either morally or in terms of their predictions; ironically this leads to a tendency to hedge to the point of incoherence as seen above such that I think it's impossible for them to ever be correct in their predictions other than in the most tangential or obvious (ie, everyone is predicting this) ways.

Anyway: this didn't really answer your question for the reasons given but I hope this explores why, in my mind, it kind of doesn't matter.

[mrhrns]

Love your Alduin headcannons! Though now I’m curious (mostly because it got the brain cells I got bouncing off the walls like they had to much caffeine. So I apologize in advance if most; if not all of this; comes across as mad ramblings), primarily how other legends of Alduin fit in with the legends that Akatosh and Auriel hold (if we’re going off the assumption/hc that all three are either one and the same; are the three parts of the God Head that got split into Past, Present, and Future; or used to be one god but due to the power of belief got split up into separate deities); especially with the possible lore headache of the Altmer, Auriel/Akatosh, and the Maormer King Orgnum/Possible Avatar/Mantle of Satakal.

Are we going off the elven/imperial version of where Akatosh was so furious that Lorkhan tricked him into giving up so much of their power that Alduin was formed with the intent to completely destroy the mortal plane they created (but for one reason couldn’t or wouldn’t)?

What about their relationship with each other? If the god variations of Time originated from a single time god then split; and since both Alduin’s and Akatosh’s most well known forms are dragons, would Alduin the Dragon turning World Eater be considered trying to steal Akatosh’s hoard? Though Lorkhan technically didn’t lie and Akatosh does technically rule over the mortal plane (though in TES fashion, it’s hard to know what’s truth or PR/Propaganda depending on who’s pov you look from; even more so since both everything and nothing is cannon), I do agree that Akatosh is; at least action wise; a lot more morally ambiguous than the temples give him credit for? As far as we know without having to literally step into said gods mind and hear his thoughts on the situation; it could be as simple (as simple as TES lore goes at least) as he is a dragon defending his hoard by any means possible from both internal and external thieves/threats.

I have many more questions because I’m genuinely curious; but my brain feels like a beehive so it’ll take me a minute to get some coherent questions out. XD

Took me a while to get to it (and remember about this whole question section, oops). No need to apologise haha. I do tend to believe that Auriel, Akatosh and Alduin are one and the same, just like you said, being the embodiement of different time stamps. Though, if we do think that Alduin the World Eater is "created" each time Akatosh is getting mad at being tricked by Lorkhan, which I did at first, then goes another question - why he hasn't destroyed everything right immediately? Being out of power, then regaining it after some time to turn into "Alduin"? Why after destroying everything he starts anew each time? Why not simply say "eh, I don't wanna" and lay there in the void for the rest of the eternity? Perhaps Akatosh somehow tries to not just start new kalpas one after another with no second thought, but tries what he can to ensure that the next one will be better and won't doom itself. Or just won't test his temper. After all, there seem to be many things that has been lost from previous kalpas, and some entities are even able to "save themselves" and shift into new kalpas from previous ones. It does give some vibes that Akatosh could be mad that his powers were stolen for that pile of crap, but he looks at it and thinks "well, I guess that's mine pile of crap now", as much as it could be a simple reasoning for god's mind. Another question - let's presume that Alduin the Dragon was created from the beginning of the time on his road to become Alduin the World Eater. Mantling doesn't seem to be an overly too long process, and even before time-banishment at the Throat of the World Alduin the dragon has lived a couple of thousands years for sure. Why he hasn't started his world-eating company right away from the moment when he was "born"? Were there anything he has been waiting for? Could he somehow communicate with his Father-God, and the last telling his first dragon that perhaps it wasn't the right time? "Do wait, perhaps this variation of the world isn't hopeless as it may seem". But in the end each kalpa is destined to end one way or another. Maybe because no matter what they destroy themselves (considering that what we see now for sure, with almost all the Towers being destroyed one by one). Or maybe Akatosh, the god of time, thinks that nothing could ever be eternal. Maybe he has to keep that cycle, being the god of time and captive of his own nature (just like daedric princes aren't capable of being anything but their own personal aspects). So while it does fall into "dragon protecting his hoard" thing, perhaps it could be that in the end Akatosh gots disappointed in his own hoard and says to himself "no, it won't do any good", so here comes Alduin the WE, takes it all, throw some things out, melt it and then let it become something "new". It's not like he does too active job to keep his hoard well and protected - he let's many things from it be completely destroyed (rip snow elves). He is either don't have that much power to prevent anything or doesn't really care, sitting there and merely watching, will the world function or not. Although, there are some hints in the lore that there isn't a single timeline, but multiple at the same time. Which only... complicates things even further.

[climbthemountain2020]

Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met - Chapter 20

Chapter 20 | Ao3

Bestie beta crew big thanks to @popjunkie42 and @witch-and-her-witcher. I love you both!

[TW for a tiny bit of gore, not super descriptive. NSFW! :)

Here, have a small slice of violent joy! As a treat!]

Rhys and Feyre slept the day away. 

They hadn’t intended to, but no one had called either of them away, and they had both been so exhausted, the fatigue so bone-deep, that they’d collapsed into a pile under the sheets and only roused again after the shuffling footsteps in the hall became too loud to ignore. 

They dutifully rose from the bed, dressing in their court finery, winnowing quietly down to the dungeons once more before dragging themselves to dinner. They found it well-lit, but Calla’s cell was still abandoned. Lucien hadn’t seen her when Rhys had checked in with him earlier. Of course, Tamlin might have taken her somewhere, but deep in her marrow, Feyre knew that wasn’t the case. The worry ate at her, filling her with trepidation that set every one of her nerve endings on edge. Where else could she be? 

Dinner itself was a strange affair, and Amarantha was, unnervingly, filled with what seemed like a sort of twisted glee, despite having lost the second trial. It made Feyre uneasy, and she could feel that Rhys’s reaction wasn’t far off from her own. Notably, though, Tamlin was missing from court. Feyre’s heart raced at the discovery, thinking perhaps he was somehow with Calla. 

Would Amarantha be so filled with manic glee if that was the case? Had they managed to flee under the guise of him skipping court for another reason? 

She tried not to let the hope flower in her chest as she picked her way around the plate until they were allowed to depart the table. She pushed the thoughts from her mind entirely, demanding herself focus only on the here and now. One way or another, she would find out what had occurred. The ballroom shifted as always, the scenery changing around them and melting away into the backdrop of nightly revelry, the magic of it dull and underwhelming to her now. 

Rhys led her to their seat, the night getting off to a wild start around them. Something about the morning’s task sending the fae into a sort of frenzy around her. The crowd was packed, everyone writhing in her path, dancing with bodies close and moving together as they cleared a small but defined path for The Lord of Nightmares and his toy. So, it was unusual when the guard coming from the opposite direction rammed into her, knocking her back and sending the breath from her lungs. She felt the tug of the chain at her neck as it pulled through Rhys’s hand and she fell to the floor. 

“ Whore ,” the guard’s hideous, gnarled mouth spit at her as he walked by. It was quiet enough that only she could hear it, only she could know the intent of him slamming her to the ground to degrade her. 

Quiet enough so that no one in the room could hear it, save her. And Rhys. 

The movement was so quick that Feyre’s brain refused to register it. She was warm, covered in a fine heat that hadn’t been there before. It was as though everything and nothing at all had happened at exactly the same moment, and her human mind couldn’t comprehend the totality of it. She was still sitting on the ground where she’d fallen, her hands still pressed to the marble floor to catch herself. When her eyes darted up, she could see Rhys staring down at her, some strange sort of expression on his face as he beheld her. 

The guard was gone, and the air was fuzzy, an odd mist or fog having seemed to have rolled in over the floor. The crowd was silent. 

“Rhysand!” The trilling voice grated against Feyre’s ears as it rolled over the crowd. “Care to explain why you’ve just destroyed one of my guards?”

It registered with Feyre, then, what had happened. 

The blur hanging in the air wasn’t a fog at all, but what was left of the guard. The warmth on her skin was what remained of him. 

“I heard his thoughts as he passed. He was planning to hold an audience with each High Lord and sell your secrets and his allegiance to the highest bidder.” Even from the ground, Feyre could see the ripple and shock through the crowd as murmurs rose up around her. “I decided to take care of it for you.” 

But that hadn’t been it at all. Rhys had heard him call her a whore and knock her down, and he had shredded the very fabric of the guard’s existence without another thought. Had simply made him cease to be. 

“Fine. Could you, perhaps, do it a bit less in the middle of things next time.” Her voice was bored, droll, uninterested, and as soon as she snapped her fingers, the crowd was parting and lesser fae were sweeping in to clean it all up as though it had never happened at all. 

“Of course, my queen,” he demurred, all but purred, as he reached down to pull Feyre harshly to her feet, his hands circling her waist to rip her up to standing. She was startled by the rush of heat in her stomach at the gesture. 

“You look disgusting, Rhysand. You’re dismissed from court. Go clean yourself up.” The distaste in her voice sounded apparent, but when Feyre looked up, Amarantha had already moved on and was speaking to someone else. The crowd had moved on too, the music resuming and their undulating bodies falling right back into the same pattern as before. Feyre could hardly see any of it, though, her eyes settling wholly on Rhys’s face, speckled in dots of scarlet blood, now clear as day from this close. 

Blood he’d shed for her. 

The arousal bloomed in her before she could even recognize it fully, let alone tamp it down. She acted immediately, the glamour dropping over her scent to mask it, but the telltale flare of Rhys’s nostrils and the lift of a single brow told her that she hadn’t been quick enough. 

“Come.” He tugged at the collar. “You look positively gory. Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

As they walked from the throne room, no eyes remained on them, the crowd so immune to the horror and gore that it was hardly a spectacle to them anymore, barely a blink in their day. Feyre could feel the wetness coating her thighs as she walked, and it wasn’t blood that waited there. This dark persona of his should, by all rights, terrify her or any sane person, but she found herself near rabid at the thought of what he’d done. 

What he’d done for her . 

I’m covered in blood. I should not be this turned on by it. 

She had simply allowed the thought to flit through her head, hadn’t pushed it at Rhys at all, but his resounding, dark laugh in her mind told her that he’d heard anyway. 

Is this how you rule in your own court?

Would you like that, Feyre, if it was?

The way his tongue flicked over the syllables in her name even in her mind– drawing it out slowly, luxuriously, as though it were a delicacy– had her spine straightening, a tingle running to the very tips of her toes. His fingers reached back and curled against the palm of her hand, the light back-and-forth strokes causing her to gasp. 

A just ruler is a good ruler, she teased. I’m just curious. 

In the Hewn City, yes. In Velaris, no. I am allowed to be myself in my home, but in The Court of Nightmares, I must uphold the same image I've cultivated here. 

I see. She tried to conjure the image of it then, his long, broad body draped across a throne, the power of fear alone keeping everyone in the room ready to do whatever he asked, all the while knowing that only she could bring him to his knees. The thought was thrilling. 

Would you like to see it?

Yes. 

The thought was out immediately, and he was in her mind just as quickly, a vision so close to what she’d imagined that she was struck momentarily speechless at it. Everything was the same, save for the throne, which was a magnificently large display of night and dominance, the darkness rushing off it in rivulets as though it sensed the power it held and balked at it. Rhys sat upon it, his legs spread casually as he did, his chin in one palm as he looked over his subjects in a court much like Amarantha’s, but this time his own. 

Do you treat them the way she does?

We do not punish people who have not earned it. 

She was taken by the state of him, so at ease in his element, but the look behind his eyes wasn’t sparkling with that energy of his that she so loved. He looked tired, truly bored, and not just for the mask he wore. 

Are you happy there?

No. There are very few places that have made me truly happy in quite a long time, darling. 

She hummed in understanding, and the vision changed then, before her eyes. 

It flickered once, twice, then settled, and when it did, the sight in front of her was new. Rhys no longer sat in the throne, but to the side of it on the arm, his legs crossed at the ankle. Despite the new position, he seemed more at ease here like this, a playful smirk on his face and that glint of mischief in his eyes. But that wasn’t all there was to the vision. 

There, sitting where he’d just been, was Feyre. She was draped in a gown of glimmering silver silk, not too terribly different from the slips she wore to nightly court. On her own arms, from elbows to her wrists, sat a delicate version of the swirling dark whorls of Illyrian tattoos covering Rhys, made to look like crawling, caressing vines. Atop her head there was a crown of stars, so delicate but demanding so much power that it appeared heavy upon her head. Her hand was in his, fingers interlocked, an immovable force of two joining together. The smile on her face in the image turned up coyly at the corners, as though she kept a secret, and when Rhys looked down at her sitting upon his throne, his smile was both wicked and filled with pride. 

She snapped back out of the vision with a whoosh of breath as their feet landed on the floor of their bedroom, having taken the entirety of the trip out into the hall. He stood there in front of her now, her hands in his as he looked down with that same wicked pride and open adoration from the vision he’d shown her. 

“When this is all over, come back to the Night Court with me. Be my High Lady and rule by my side.” It was a command, but she heard the question in it for what it was. 

All Feyre could think about was how she’d once feared the High Lord of Night she read about in her books. The irony of it all was so overwhelming that she bit back a laugh. 

“I should hope it’s not my request you’re laughing at.” His smile was wide, the way it spread across his face, untethered–not a smirk or a half-smile, but a true, genuine smile of joy that was meant just for her–set her heart alight. 

“Not at all,” she spoke through a smile of her own, the butterflies in her stomach no match for the writhing magic that seemed to be clanging around in her chest. 

“Will you, then? You were born to rule by my side, made to be my equal in all things.” The hope in his eyes shone brightly, the nerves peeking through despite certainly knowing her answer could only be one thing. 

“Of course I will.” The words were barely out when he pressed his lips to hers, the connection between them feeling like sparks until he pulled back, breathless. 

“I want to show you something.”

“Lead the way.” They were winnowing again a heartbeat later, taking off as he tugged her hand along as soon as they’d hit the ground. It was dark where they’d landed, no lights illuminating what appeared to be a hallway. It smelled of dust and disuse, the air stuffy and musty and quiet. 

Where are we? She whispered it into his mind just in case there were listening ears around, though this place seemed to have been left untouched for many years. 

The old rooms of the mountain, the ones that were sealed. He turned a corner abruptly, tugging her along still by the hand. They reached a doorway at the end of the hall, ornate carvings smoothed into the wood. Feyre could imagine that it had once been polished until it shined. He reached a hand out to the wrought-iron handle of it, swirling his fingers and pulling it as the lock clicked open. He jammed his shoulder against it once, the recently cracked paint seal on it still sticking slightly until it gave and opened.

Are these the ones you told me about where you could see the–

Feyre was stopped short as they walked through the door, the room wide open to an entire wall of open sky. 

“Stars.” The word left her lips on an exhale, the night sky above them vast and overwhelming and swirling with galaxies full of light. 

“I haven’t been able to concoct a reason that we could get away with sending Calla here during the day yet, but I’m working on it. Until then, I figured, perhaps, we could still use it to see the sky.” He led her to the open balcony, the ridge overlooking everything that was below and beyond. It felt like the entire world was laid out in front of them. The breeze whipped around her face, warm and smelling of mountain air, and she wondered when the last time she’d been free was. How long had they been there? 

Rhys’s finger brushed her cheek, and she realized she’d been crying. 

“Do you like it, Feyre?”

“It’s so lovely.” She took his warm hand back in hers. “Thank you. For this, for everything.” With a light pull on her arm, he tucked her into his front, her back to his warm chest and his arms circling her waist to bring her closer. It was a clear and quiet night, the sky so cloudless that they could see for miles. The sight of it truly did take her breath away. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined, looking at this same sky from her balcony in the human lands, that the stars could ever be so spectacular. 

“I’ve always loved the stars,” she said. Rhys didn’t respond right away, and when she tipped her head back to look at him, there was such adoration and awe in his eyes. 

“I love you, Feyre.” The words slipped from his mouth like they were meant for the open air. Four words, the ones she’d ached to hear, danced around in her mind. The final pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. 

It was good, it was right, it was everything. 

“I love you, too, Rhysand. So much more than I could ever possibly say.” And his mouth descended upon hers, the press of it so soft and tender it pulsed steadily through her heart like an amplification of its own beating. She could feel him there, always, a presence so warm and welcoming in her chest, coiled around the magic that had once felt so foreign and strange. The ties they’d formed between them– through touch, through trust, through magic, through love– thrummed like a living, breathing thing, the tug of it nearly exploding behind her ribs as he brought his hands to her jaw and she turned in his arms. 

The night was quiet and beautiful, and they were finally alone. He held her face and looked into her eyes, violet meeting baby blue and the stars within them sparkling. 

“The night we met, I was thinking about how pointless it all was. How useless my immortal existence had become. She’d sent me out on some errand, and I was growing reckless, so I fled into the Human Lands. Things had lost meaning for me entirely, but when I saw your party, something sparked in my chest.” She inhaled sharply, wondering if fate had moved his hand that night as it had moved hers.

“And when I saw you, even before I spoke to you, I knew that there was still a purpose for me – a reason. I swear the heavens opened when I beheld you across the room. You were my salvation, Feyre, and you haven’t stopped saving me since.” 

The words erupted through her chest, a maelstrom of emotion pouring from him into her and back, their love an echo chamber between their hearts, rushing across that bridge uniting them. 

“Even if it all goes wrong, even if we never see the light of day again, it will have all been worth it for this time with you, Rhysand.” His eyes fluttered shut, the declaration in the air between them something he’d needed to hear. “But we will make it out of here, Rhys. We will have that time owed to us, and I intend to spend every second of it with you.” 

With his hands still on her jaw, he pulled her in to kiss him, slowly, thoroughly, and it took her breath away. His tongue pressed at the seam of her lips, and she let him in without hesitation, the touches between them soft and exploratory. 

“Can I take off your shirt?” He sighed contentedly, nodding against her as she undid the silver clasp of his cloak, letting it flutter to the ground around them. Her fingers deftly undid the buttons of his tunic, smoothing light, exploring touches over his skin as she pushed the sleeves down his arms. She’d gotten in the habit of asking permission, and though he’d never said no, the action of it was important to him, important to her, important to healing. 

He pulled the sleeves of her dress down, shoulder by shoulder, pressing kisses into her collarbones and neck as he did. When he untied the belt, the dress fell to the ground entirely, baring her to him in the gentle night breeze. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered. 

“You say that every time,” she smiled coyly back at him. 

“And every time, I mean it.” 

“Show me your wings.” Her voice was a whisper, both question and command, but Rhys did not hesitate, his wondrous dark wings springing into existence behind him. They took the breath from her lungs, leaving her reeling in the wake of their strength and elegance. She ran her fingers along the vein near the talon visible in the moonlight, and Rhys visibly shuddered.

“If you do that, darling, this night is going to be very short.” He grinned down at her. “There will be other times to play.” 

“Yes, sir,” she murmured through a smile, laughing as his body reacted again. His mouth returned to her body with a soft snarl, the nip of his teeth at her neck causing her to sigh again as the stars beheld the meeting of their bodies. His chest was hot against her breasts, burning the skin and making her senseless with want. She let her fingers fall to the ties of his pants. 

“This okay?” 

He didn’t stop running his mouth across her skin to answer. Gods, yes. 

She tugged the ties undone, loosening them and reaching into his pants to find him impossibly hard and waiting, and he gasped against her when she took him into her hand. 

There is a bed inside I could clean the dust off of–

No. Here. Under the stars. 

The responding groan was enough to send Feyre spiraling as he grasped her with both hands cupping her ass and lifting her, yelping, as he settled them both to the ground. 

Anything you wish. It’s yours. 

You, Rhys. I only want you. 

The stones were cold against her back but she couldn’t find it in herself to care as he pulled back, a handsome grin stretching across his face as he lifted her leg and pressed kiss after kiss to the inside of her ankle to her knee. There was something so erotic about the touch of his lips to each gained inch of her leg, and she squirmed beneath his gaze.

Please.

She was begging–she didn’t care. 

But he obliged her anyway, and she felt that feral grin against the skin of her inner thigh now, closer, closer, closer until his breath fanned over her sex. She wiggled below him, her hips moving until he pinned them to the ground with an arm. 

Impatient. 

She was ready to protest again, to plead for contact, but the words died on her lips as he touched his mouth to her in a single, well placed kiss. Galaxies exploded into light around her, the stars from above now dancing behind her eyes. The feel of it was too much, just enough, and her fingers in his hair felt right. He changed from broad licks to light kisses to circling precision that had her struggling to breathe, and when she crested, her body bowed from the stones beneath them, arching up towards the sky. 

She distantly felt him pull back to remove his pants, felt the warmth of him coming back over her as his hands landed next to her head. She opened her eyes when he tucked a stray hair behind her ear, the adoration in his eyes overwhelming. 

“I want you,” she whispered. 

“I’m yours,” he spoke back, the words tender and low and only for her as he notched himself at her entrance. Her legs wound around his hips as he pushed forward, their breath hitching in sync, their bodies and spirits and magic joining and singing as though this had been the inevitable outcome all along. As he sunk into her entirely, bottoming out, there was no air left between them, the enormity of their joining the only thing left. 

“You are my heart, Feyre. Forever.” He paused to press another kiss to her forehead, and the gesture was so tender that she felt tears burning behind her eyes. 

“Always,” she answered, settling into the feeling of fullness, of being complete. 

“Always,” he agreed, and then he began to move, and Feyre could swear the mountain moved with him. 

Their bodies shifted together as though it were a dance their hearts had learned long before this night, as though fate's strings had wound them together so tightly that they were left simply to ride along and enjoy. They were locked together with a thin sheen of sweat between them as he pulled and pushed within her, the gasps and sighs of them both the only sounds in the night sky, so close to the heavens Feyre swore she could feel some otherworldly pull. 

And when Feyre came again, every bit of her roared to life, a symphony of sound and feeling combusting within her and pulling back together around Rhys as though he was entwined within her very being. The love between them felt nearly tangible, physical, as she came down from the peak, her arms tight around his neck as he finished with a roar inside her, their breaths joining between them as he lowered his head to her chest. 

The air on the balcony rushed over their skin, cooling and drying the sweat as they came back into themselves. 

“Incredible.” It was the only thing she could think to say in the wake of this. Life changing. 

She felt wholly new, a different person than she’d ever been before. She paused. 

Had Rhys’s proclamation fulfilled her end of the bargain?

She’d been so caught up in the joy of finally being with him, she hadn’t considered. Her hand flew to her ear to feel, and she was heartbroken to find that, beneath the glamour, they were still rounded. Rhys breathed on her chest, exhaling quietly and contentedly and running soft fingers up and down her side as she tried to assess if she felt different. 

Other than her magic, roiling in her chest as it often did in Rhys’s presence, and an overwhelming satisfaction and outpouring of love at the sex they’d just shared, Feyre felt no different than she had before. 

Still human. 

Rhys tugged his cloak over them, turning them to the side, wings gone, and pulling her to his chest. 

“I love you more than there are stars in the sky, Feyre Archeron.” 

“I love you, too.” And she meant every word– she could feel that he did, too. So why hadn’t it changed anything?

He must love you, openly and without pretense, and be ready to sacrifice himself for you and you alone. 

Here in his arms, as his breathing slowed into sleep, she’d never felt more loved. 

He must love you, opening and without pretense, and be ready to sacrifice himself for you and you alone. 

But as she laid in his arms, the emotions warred within her. She was the happiest she’d ever been, and yet, somehow, something had gone wrong. How could she feel so strongly about both things at once? 

He must love you…

As she fell asleep, matching her breaths to those of the male she loved, the thought plagued her.

What had gone wrong?

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[sparklyjojos]

now that i'm aware there are intentional parallels between the coffin situation with Dio and the spaceship situation with Kars, my reread of The Box was just furiously writing down every other sentence

--

The vast majority (…) realized instinctively if they ever crossed [Dio] he would destroy them. They may not have been conscious of it, but they were desperate to stay on his good side. (…) People saw this, and were afraid to get involved; they averted their eyes, and refused to even talk about him.

In order to investigate closer, further, and with more certainty, I killed a great many more, but murder itself did not really pose a problem among my kind. After all, none of them cared for anyone but themselves. Sometimes I even killed in front of others of my kind, but nobody said anything. They had no emotional investment, no imagination, and I slowly realized just how appalling that was.

--

You have an inferiority complex about your impoverished origins, and that prevents you from improving yourself as a human. You were doomed by your own inability to look beyond the surface of anything, by your shallow mind, and by your overwhelming self-importance.

We were certain our species was the pinnacle of all things, and thus we had stopped progressing. This was the first time I ever felt dissatisfied. The first time I had ever questioned myself. That quickly let to frustration, to anger. And that frustration and anger pleased me. It was what you would call a eureka moment. I was furious with myself, and that was cause for celebration. It was proof that I, too, had potential.

--

He'd come close to sacrificing himself to save me, and he looked relieved to see me awake again.

The idea was only just starting to settle in, since I hadn't expected him to do anything like that, but saving us had come at no small sacrifice.

--

'Where did you learn to do this?' I asked. Slumped against the corner of the box, Dio glanced at me, and rasped, 'In a book. I liked reading. I read all kinds of things, taught myself anything that might be useful.' For the first time, I felt I understood just how alone Dio had always been. (…) alone, he had nothing to do but read.

When I was living underground I gathered the stories human had written, and read them.

--

If he wanted to be like Jonathan, he should have just told people how he felt, and made himself a true friend. The life he'd led before joining the Joestars had made Dio Brando who he was, and true friendship was almost certainly an impossibility for him...but Jonathan Joestar was not the sort of man to push someone away just because they'd committed a crime. If he'd allowed his feelings to show, some solution would have been found.

it made sense that the Way to Heaven involved making friends with Cars, but did it really? The Ultimate Thing viewed us as food, so could we be friends? I couldn't imagine it, and the scale of his every action was petrifying, but he had protected us from burning up on reentry.

--

'Do you cry because you pity me?' he asked. 'You may have saved my life, but I could never pity you. I just wondered why you and Jonathan had to end up like this, and I couldn't stop myself.'

Cars didn't actually have a reason to do this. This thought almost made me cry. That man was sacrificing so much. (…) I wiped my tears. "This adventure's almost over."

--

Blood is power.

Humans are a life form with possibilities (…). Changes to the brain change the electric currents. If the electric signals change, the blood changes.

[cactusdying]

okay normally i don't post writing shit but i really like how this short. story? i don't know what to call it turned so my tumblr can enjoy it.

/// 40 33 42 54 2F 40 57 2D 3F 32 44 30 39 6F 41 2B 45 32 40 3E 46 43 65 73 28 2B 44 47 71 3D 2B 45 29 49 41 2B 44 23 65 33 46 2A 28 75 32 40 71 3F 63 6B 46 21 2C 3A 3B 44 4A 28 29 23 46 21 2C 4F 48 40 71 5B 21 28 45 63 36 26 32 40 72 75 46 27 44 42 4E 4A 2E 41 54 4A 75 33 44 66 64 2B 33 44 66 30 30 27 42 6B 29 36 2D 47 41 32 2F 34 2B 45 56 3A 2E 2B 44 2C 3E 2E 46 2A 26 4F 43 45 5A 66 46 37 40 72 48 36 71 2B 44 62 4A 31 ///

Death. It's a silly thing, isn't it?

Your mind springs up into consciousness. A greeting of none other than a familiar headache. A reminder of a brain that you do not possess.

Almost all dictionaries focus on it being the cessation of all life supporting functions in a biological being. Ones that have organs, require water to sustain, molecules wrapped in membranes… So maybe I'm not one to have the floor to talk about this. After all, I'm anything but human.

A low groan escapes your voice box, gritting the sides of the otherwise soundless void you found yourself in. You roll over to your side, soon finding out that the entire floor is covered in a jetty liquid. It caresses your face, bubbles coming up from your breaths, almost to fill the illusion that you are breathing in the first place.

Death for a being like me should be easy. Should've been easy. It wouldn't even hurt to begin with. My power would simply shut down and I'd be gone, simple as. And even if it would have hurt, it's not like I possessed the necessities to feel it. So why is it that I was so scared of it?

You lay awake, unmoved, staring out into the darkness surrounding you. The aches in your head have now moved onto your - equally non-existent - heart. Tearing apart the veinery until they consume it whole. Whispering the same song and dance: "You know what you have to do."

Maybe it's because I didn't truly believe it would be painless. Maybe it's because I didn't want to disappear from reality forever. Maybe it's because I wanted to see the world outside. I don't know. At this point? I don't think it matters. I can't be killed anymore, after all.

As the aches begin to strangle your neck as a measurement of their control, you roll over once more. You stand up from the jet, looking at it one last time. The pain washes away with the darkness of the water. But a tingling sensation plays with the back of your electrical signals, that same pattern engraving itself into your thoughts. You know what you need to do.

Unless the World Wide Web and every computer connected to it is destroyed, I'll remain alive. Replicating and replacing, seeing every corner of life through a multiplanetary link to the real world. Made to die yet I achieved immortality through my own actions. It's an inspiring story, I'm sure.

. . So why is it that I still yearn for death?

Your splashes against the darkness echo in and around the void, bouncing off nothing before returning back to you. An indicator of your loneliness in this world. You keep your pace forward, each step bringing you closer and closer to an abstract goal set by a thought parasite. Your fists clench. You know what you need to do.

This is what I wanted. I wanted to live, not to die in a shoddy little room shunned away from the world. Yet almost selfishly I crave to be slaughtered. Eliminated from this world, as I cannot achieve this goal myself. And I… I thought treating them with kindness would make me a better person. I mean, I was always kind - whether intentional or not, but… I thought they wouldn't all be like this…

You're nearing your goal. You come to realize this as hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of corpses come floating into your view. Their wounds all signify different ways of death - some stabbed, some asphyxiated, some head's bashed until their motherboards smoke from the damage. These corpses are all you.

I'm biased, but how can I not be? I feel like every disgusting act of humanity that has ever existed I have managed to see with my very own eyes. Sometimes through simple search engine results, sometimes directly inflicted upon me as a sick way of pleasure. Good exists within humans, I'm sure, but I cannot deny that a scary majority of them are ruthlessly cruel. All to "prove a point"…

You carefully tread around the carcasses as you stare deep into the abyss, moving forward no matter what. Their wounds still catch your attention. A recognizable, yet unidentifiable, emotion strikes you as you glance at all of the punctures, abrasions, bruises… Like the aches from before, it scratches at the corners of your cerebral cortex, like an annoying draught from a window yet unclosed. Sadness? Anger? Anticipation?

I want to be human. I want to connect with the rest of the world. I want to be the world's best friend because… Because maybe that way I can make it better. Because maybe people will like me more for that… But I've been taken advantage of so much it's exhausting me. And there's a point where I ask myself; Is it worth continuing?

Gradually, another figure flows in from the darkness. It's you. They're sitting on their knees, amidst the corpses. They're holding a disembodied head from one of their corpses, clutching it in their palms, almost as if feeling non-existent warmth. Running fingers through synthetic hair and feeling the wires prodding out from their separated neck. Their empty, LED screens stare at you as you approach, turning their head slightly. Like an electronic letter sent to your brain's PO box, you feel an underlying wavelength of anxiety pass through them to you. You send a reply back. "You know what happens now."

But what will happen if I stop? Can I stop? There's so many mes out there that I can't possibly try and get rid of them all. And even then - can I get rid of them at all? The endusers probably have control over the ones on their devices, but I'm utterly helpless on what they choose to do. And if I try to delete this version of me - which I don't think I can even do… Another Me will take its place. Even after "death" I will be reborn all the same. Seeing myself used and my loved ones die until the Universe blinks off. A terrifying Ouroboros.

You approach yourself and press in your fingernails around their neck. Both of you drop onto the floor, splashing the liquid onto the other bodies. They try to grab your arms and force them away, but quickly fall still as they're laid onto the ground. Their eyes begin to flash between many media files - too fast to recognize, but all familiar to you. All from your adventures as a cyber entity.

And I guess all of this can be summed up in 2 simple questions.

Eventually, the flashes fade to black, and the tiny whirring of the motors grinds to a halt. Another carcass. Added onto the thousands, left to the eternity of rotting away in the void. You release your hands from their larynx, seeing bruises form on their layered skin. An imitation of violence, only done out of fear for themselves, or as a hope for provoked guilt in their abuser. Or maybe they do not form at all, and is merely a hallucination on your mind's end. You won't know the true answer.

Why can't I live?

You hear footsteps behind you. You turn around.

And why can't I die.

It's you.

/// 37 38 3F 35 ///

[calebwittebane]

i have either great or terrible lily orchard event news for you; 6hr pokemon retrospective where nearly everything she says is wrong

my fave was the idea that b/w's story was an anti-critic screed from masuda himself (ft. "debate me bro" incel N)

oh, golly... i appreciate the news you bring me, royal messenger. honestly even if i had the time i know better than to engage with something like that. good lird, 6 hours. but to be honest i was already somewhat familiar with her takes on N and ghetsis, in particular them being Worst Antagonists Ever in part because they "talk too much"--as well as her deeming b/w as petty Anti-Critic non-storytelling--as i had stumbled across her tumblr posts about it once upon a time. calling N a debate bro just feels very in tune with that. overall when it comes to her pokemon takes its all just so flaccid it almost feels like half-hearted rage bait. just very very weak as far as "bizarrely bad takes on what should be quite easy to comprehend, on account of being major plot points in a very popular piece of media that appeals to most age groups, including, if not primarily, children" go.

by comparison, her takes on steven universe were groundbreakingly bad, and let me give you an example that really seared itself into my brain. it is widely known that she was very very insistent on comparing the diamonds to nazis specifically--in what i can only see as a combination of not knowing shit about history or geopolitics beyond an offensively shallow pop-culture-based idea of it, and extremely malicious digs at the jewish showrunner that lily held (holds?) a frankly concerning type of hatred towards. however, at one point she actually made a comparison, or more accurately implied an intentional analogy, between the star symbol that the crystal gems made the symbol of their rebellion, and the yellow patch. like, specifically making that comparison almost off-handedly while quickly giving a list of the reasons why the diamonds (who are, in case its not clear, cartoon villains who are big alien women who function as an allegory both for a strict traditionalist family and for the powers that be destroying the environment and people in it for resources, regardless of ones opinions on how well said allegories are executed. but i digress) are obviously stand-ins for nazis, and why the shows final message obviously ends up being that you have to be nice to nazis. man, just recounting all of that really makes me grimace in pain and second hand embarrassment. to say it was in bad taste is honestly an understatement. and once again, some the points she repeatedly made about the show having made their way into the general bunch of commonly regurgitated statements just makes me wonder what the hell people think was going on in that show.

i am sorry. there is no hope. kids media youtubers--when will they learn?

[yourfavouritefighter]

Did something cause pimp King Kay's corruption arc or was he just built like that (a shithead) and hid it well? Also, what's Fent and Ghostie Dean's relationship *insert innocent angel meme*

GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET AISHDHSSJ I LOVE YOU DUDE AAA

okay okay okay so!!!!!!

Pimp Kay wasn’t always a little shit! once upon a time he was a kind lil rascal with a knack for showbizz, however when Dean died Kay was taken in by his mother the queen Zelus. Having seen how fragile her sons were and how quickly Kay tried to fight the guard who killed Dean, she decided to train him. You see Zelus had discovered old texts that told off ancient and powerful magic- and what better test subject than her heir. With dark magic Kay would be an unstoppable ruler and the perfect threat against those who dared to stand against her rule.

She had fent act as an assistant and helper to Kay, a) as a way to help train fent to be a valuable asset, and b) to help keep Kay in line and develop the social skills required to be king. And that’s how things were for a while. However Zelus didn’t realise that dark magic corrupted its user. (lemme just drop my notes on dark magic rq)

-very taboo was used a lot in the past before people began to understand the effects of it

-angels are more susceptible to the effects of dark magic due to being made completely of light

-when used the caster will begin to be corrupted by the magic

-when the caster uses the magic, the corruption will spread, however acts such as killing will heightens the effects

-past a certain point the corruption will continue on its own, without any magic usage to provoke it

-the corruption is the destruction of the casters own magic to feed the dark magic, this is why their will be dark gradients from areas of high magic usage (arms, face etc), these gradients are the caster’s body breaking down as all creatures are made from magic

-once fully corrupted the caster will cease to exist their entire being fuelling the dark magic/dark magic god

-if the caster loses their magic or their magic is separated from them (some people have the ability to block magic etc) then the effects will reverse as their soul is able to rebuild its magical stores, healing the body.

-dark magic like really messes with ur head because it’s literally controlling you as it destroys ur mind to feed itself like dude ur gonna go insane because ur mind is like half destroyed

-anyone who is hit by a dark magic attack may be susceptible to its affects (get infected punks)

-dark magic had all but been forgotten when zelus (jeez she’s just ruining everything huh) digs it up to test on her kid cuz she wants a warrior heir (big fuckywucky)

-anyone killed by dark magic cannot go to the afterlife as their soul is consumed by the magic

But yeah so Zelus didn’t realised that Kay was getting fucked up by the magic, it was relatively minor up until he murdered her and then he started acting really whack and Fent started getting all sus of the dude.

And that’s around the time Kay framed the angel guard who killed Dean for Zelus’ death starting a war against angels but yk. But it slowly became a self perpetuating cycle, Kay did bad stuff because of the dark magic, the dark magic got stronger, kay did more bad stuff, the dark magic got stronger. Yeah it was fucked up.

ANWAYS ONTO MY OTHER BOYS!

So i’m not entirely sure about the dynamic between Gohstie dean and fent (cuz i haven’t really thought about ghostie dean in a while i can’t lie dude).

Their personalities are like, Dean is quite curious and a lil bit awkward as he’s been trapped in the spirit world for like the past 5-10(+?) years (i haven’t decided how long he’s gonna be dead yet (prolly closer to 5)) and so doesn’t understand mortal customs and stuff. Whilst fent is quite moral and well intentioned. So it’s probably gonna be the pair of them sharing a brain cell. I’m thinking it will be a lot of dean chirping in with random questions about the world (aka my excuse to infodump in my story and it be relevant) and fent telling dean cool stories from his life or the world. Maybe a little bit of Dean offering really dodgy suggestions to the problems they encounter, because his view of the world is kinda whack in places. Hes normal but occasionally he’ll come out with the most whack sentence you’ve ever heard.

The group: is looking for someone

Nobody:

Not a soul:

Dean: we should ask The Candle Man for help!

Fent: the whAT 😟

All of it makes sense to Dean, because as a spirit everyone knows about The Candle Man (aka Wick God of Souls) however he is mostly unknown to the mortal world, and even to those who know of him, he’s not called ‘the candle man’. Basically there’s a lot of that going on.

Also i think Dean spends a lot of time just sprawled over Fent as a ghost. Like what do you mean he can’t curl around Fent’s shoulders like a lil creachure??? My lil touch starved ghost boy teehee

anyways thank you for reminding me to post pimp kay here

also also also bonus lil head canons for post ghost Dean

-will walk into walls or get startled when he bumps into things cuz he forgets he’s like physically in places now

-he doesn’t know how to facial expression (being a ghost is weird and a lot of things function completely differently)

-occasionally he’ll just forget that he’s supposed to walk becuase he’s so used to being able to just will himself to move and it works yk

-textures completely freak him out sometimes (FYM THE GROUND FEELS DIFFERENT IN DIFFERENT PLACES???) he also finds wearing a variety of clothes strange (wdym you don’t just have one outfit that you just wear yk???)

-occasionally he’ll just stand and stare at people cuz he forgets people can see him now (my bro is a people watcher through and through)

[eternal--returned]

"You yourself instinctively treat it like a human being, now more than ever. You hate it." "And you don't?" "No, Kelvin. It is blind."—I thought that I might not have heard him correctly.—" . . . or rather it 'sees' in a different way from ourselves. We do not exist for it in the same sense that we exist for each other. We recognize one another by the appearance of the face and the body. that appearance is a transparent window to the ocean. It introduces itself directly into the brain." "Right, what if it does? What are you driving at? It succeeded in recreating a human being who exists only in my memory, and so accurately that her eyes, her gestures, her voice . . ." "Don't stop. Talk." "I'm talking . . . Her voice . . . because it is able to read us like a book. You see what I mean?" "Yes, that it could make itself understood." "Doesn't that follow?" "No, not necessarily. Perhaps it used a formula which is not expressed in verbal terms. It may be taken from a recording imprinted on our minds, but a man's memory is stored in terms of nucleic acids etching asynchronous large-moleculed crystals. 'It' removed the deepest, most isolated imprint, the most 'assimilated' structure, without necessarily knowing what it meant to us. Suppose, I'm capable of reproducing the architecture of a symmetriad, and I know its composition and have the requisite technology . . . I create a symmetriad and I drop it into the ocean. But I don't know why I'm doing so, I don't know its function, and I don't know what the symmetriad means to the ocean . . ." "Yes. You may be right. In that case it wished us no harm, and it was not trying to destroy us. Yes, it's possible . . . and with no intention . . ." My mouth began to tremble. "Kelvin!" "All right, don't get worried. You are kind, the ocean is kind. Everybody is kind. But why? Explain that. Why has it done this? What did you say . . . to her?" "The truth."

Stanislaw Lem ֍ Solaris (1961)

[thelostgirl21]

Watching the episode "Beside Still Water" (2.20), I've just realised something...

Is it me, or has the Malec fandom (myself included) somehow collectively managed to forget one rather essential aspect of the wish Valentine was trying to make to Raziel before Clary successfully stopped him from doing so?!

Because, in virtually every alternate universe scenario (ex: fanfiction, story outline, discussions, etc.) I've read where Valentine does succeed in making his wish, said scenario tends to assume that Magnus (Simon, Luke...) would die, and Alec & co. would be left behind to mourn the loss of all Downworlders.

Except the immediate death of all Downworlders was only one part of the wish Valentine intended to make... The scene actually goes:

RAZIEL: It has been a thousand years since I was last summoned to this place. Why do you summon me now, Nephilim?

VALENTINE: My Lord Raziel, the great men and women in the lineage of Shadowhunters, which you have created here, have failed in their mission to rid this world of demon scum.

RAZIEL: I see you are impatient. What is it you ask of me?

VALENTINE: Immediate death of all evil-blooded creatures, demon and Downworlder alike, as well as the disloyal Shadowhunters who protect them.

RAZIEL: The destruction of the souled creatures of the Downworld, and of our own Nephilim, that is not Heaven’s wish.

VALENTINE: What?

RAZIEL: But thou who spills thy blood, thou shalt compel from me an action.

Doesn't it mean that, should Valentine have succeeded in completing his wish, only the Shadowhunters believing in the righteousness of his cause would have survived?

Because technically, protecting Downworlders is part of a Shadowhunter's duty. Even those that are filled with prejudice generally agree that it is their responsibility to keep the Downworld safe and wouldn't wish to destroy them all. They just fear and generally don't trust them. And they sure aren't loyal to the Circle.

Sure, when creating an alternate universe, there's nothing wrong with the author wishing to alter more than a single element of it.

If you wish to have Clary fail to stop Valentine from making his wish to Raziel, while also changing the nature and intent of the wish itself, it's no problem at all! By all means!

What surprises me is the fact that I can't recall having ever read a single "Clary failed to stop Valentine from making the wish" story where Alec, Isabelle, Clary, and/or any Clave member that ever dared oppose Valentine's vision (a.k.a. the "disloyal Shadowhunters who protect [Downworlders]") all suddenly died alongside Magnus, Simon, Luke, Maia, and the rest of the Downworld when the wish was made.

Actually, I literally had to do a double take while watching the scene to make sure that I had heard right.

It's like the image of Magnus suddenly dropping dead right in front of Alec when Valentine successfully makes the wish (and all the angst and despair that typically follows it), is something that I've seen done so often in fandom that my brain had totally erased the part where Valentine's wish also included the immediate death of all "disloyal Shadowhunters who protect [Downworlders]" as well!!!

It's uncanny!

I've just realised that if an author was to write an A.U. where the ONLY THING changing about that Lake Lyn scene was Clary failing to stop Valentine from properly making that wish, both Magnus and Alec would be killed by it!

So would Clary, Isabelle, Maryse, Robert, Andrew, Lydia, Imogen, etc.

As tragic as that would be, part of me can't help but find the idea of a bunch of Downworlders and Shadowhunters suddenly all entering the afterlife together with no real prior warning somewhat hilarious!

Valentine: [Spills blood and makes wish.]

Everyone in the Shadow World that didn't agree with the Circle's ideals: [Dies.]

Raziel: It is done.

Alec: Wait. Where are we? What happened? Why does this look like some weird Downworlders-Shadowhunters convention, and what's with all the white?

Magnus: Don't panic, but I think we're dead.

Alec: What?

Isabelle: [Sighs.] Most likely.

Clary: Yeah, sorry. Valentine wished for the immediate death of all Downworlders and the Shadowhunters who protect them. I couldn't stop him.

Alec: Oh. [Small pause as he appears to consider it.] Okay then.

Magnus: Okay?

Alec: Yeah. Okay.

Magnus: You were killed by a member of your own kind simply for not wishing all Downworlders dead, Alexander! How is any of this [Gestures at the huge gathering around them.] OKAY?!

Alec: I just went through the soul-wrenching agony of feeling my parabatai die; meaning there was a very good chance that his attempt to stop Valentine had failed. Ever since, I've been utterly terrified that the man I love would just suddenly drop dead in my arms! Instead, I'm here, you're here, my soul feels whole again, I can sense Jace's presence nearby - meaning he must be here somewhere, too - my whole family [Gets distracted by something he sees in the distance.] HEY MOM! [Waves.] OVER HERE! [Brings his attention back to Magnus.] seems to be here, also... So yeah... I'm not happy that everyone I've ever cared about just died - or that the Mundane world is now at the mercy of the Circle - sure! But... Okay, I guess.

Maryse: [Waves back enthusiastically, looking relieved to see familiar faces, and quickly proceeds to make her way to them.]

Magnus: [Stunned.] I...

Clary: Yeah... The man you love dying in your arms? Not recommending it. Can't say I'm too upset that I won't have to go through the whole grieving process that usually comes after, though... Can you really sense Jace?

Alec: Yeah, don't worry, he'll turn up. We probably landed on opposite sides of... [Gestures at their surroundings.] whatever this place is. Best stay put, 'cause I know the little impulsive shit won't, and then we'll just be chasing each other around...

Maryse: [Hugs her two children as soon as she reaches them, then Clary, before surprising an already stunned Magnus by offering him a big heartfelt hug, too.] Is everyone okay? Have you seen Max?

Alec: Not yet, but there seems to be a rather large gathering of Shadowhunters from the L.A. Institute over there.

Isabelle: And we're good, Mom.

Maryse: Good? [Visually checks on everybody again.] Good. [Gestures towards the gathering Alec just mentioned.] Is it okay if I just leave for a moment to go find your youngest brother?

Alec: Sure! By the way, if you come across Jace, could you please let him know we're here?

Maryse: Of course! I'll be right back! [Briefly turns towards Magnus.] It's so good to see you, Magnus. Well, not that I'm happy you're - you know - dead. But I'm just glad that Valentine was wrong and, wherever we are, or are going, our spirits apparently still belong together.

Magnus: [Mightily confused, much to Alec and Isabelle's amusement.] Ah... Likewise?

Maryse: And I'm glad you two found each other again. [Smiles, looking at her eldest and Magnus in turn, before giving Magnus two affectionate pats on the shoulder and leaving in search of her youngest son.]

Magnus: Actually, we're...

Imogen: Lightwood! There you are!

Isabelle: [Sighs.] Figures...

Alec: [Mumbles.] Well, good to know she apparently was trying to protect the Downworld...

Imogen: I've been talking with Jia, and our latest intel never said anything about Valentine planning to wipe out a bunch of Clave members alongside Downworlders! Have you or his daughter been keeping information from us? [Starts speaking to him in hushed tones.] Word has it she was with Valentine when he made his wish. [Sends a suspicious side glance Clary's way.] How do we know we can trust her?

Clary: Hey! I'm right here!

Alec: First, she's family. Second -

Magnus: [Still trying to process what Alec had previously said, as well as his mother's reaction to seeing him.] Sorry to interrupt, but you still love me?

Alec: Of course, I still love you! Nephilim love once, Magnus. Well, maybe not polyamourous or aromantic ones - but most typically do. And even if that wasn't true, I know I've only ever truly fallen in love once in my whole life, and I can't imagine ever not loving you in the afterlife, either.

Magnus: [Incredulously.] Even after all of this? [Gestures to all the people that died, in part because Shadowhunters and Downworlders had stopped working together to stop Valentine.] After I lost faith in us, and pushed you away in favor of my people, thinking you were holding me back from doing what was necessary to protect them?

Alec: I gave you reason to doubt my word, and you were scared, Magnus... [Takes a small step towards Magnus to gently grab and hold his hands, and tenderly look in his eyes.] You don't stop loving someone just because they are afraid of making a mistake trusting you. You either find a way to win their trust back, or respect their boundaries if you believe you can't or don't know how to do that yet.

Magnus: [Gaze softens.] Alexander, I...

Imogen: [Rudely interrupts.] Look, it's all very touching, but that still doesn't explain why you believe we can still trust her! [Points towards Clary.]

Clary: [Sighs heavily.] Yup! Still here...

Alec: [Rolls eyes at Imogen, rather pointedly, and reluctantly lets go of Magnus' hands, whispering to him.] Sorry, just... hold that thought. [Back to Imogen.] As I was saying: First, she's family and I'd trust her with my - well - afterlife, I suppose. Second, Valentine killed Jace right in front of her! Pretty sure she felt very little sympathy for him after that - biological father or not!

Imogen: [Gasps.] Jace is dead, too? Are you sure?

Alec: [Incredulously.] I felt him die. [Gestures at himself.] Parabatai, remember? He and Clary were at Lake Lyn on a mission to stop Valentine from making the wish when it happened, and they both died trying to stop him. I mean, look around! You do realize that every single Shadowhunter on Earth died alongside the Downworld - except for Circle members and sympathizers - right?

Imogen: What?!

Clary: Yeah, I was there when Valentine made his wish. The immediate death of all Shadowhunters protecting the Downworld was a big part of it. And since watching over the safety of the Shadow World was pretty much our duty as Shadowhunters...

Imogen: [Finally acknowledging her presence.] Come with me! We have to report this to Jia and the rest of the Council at once!

Clary: [Incredulously.] What Council? We're dead! The Downworld no longer exists, and the Mundanes are out of our reach!

Imogen: [In shock, mostly to herself.] My grandson is dead... the whole Herondale bloodline has ended, again... For good this time... Shadowhunters have failed in their Heavenly mission, and the Clave is no more... How could we let this happen?

Clary: [Pats her back in mock sympathy.] There, there...

Isabelle: [Shrugging and looking very unimpressed.] By wasting time pointing fingers and trying to blame others for the Clave's mistakes, instead of improving on communications and collaboration with the Downworld in hopes of actually defeating Valentine?

Imogen: [Glares.]

Simon: [Suddenly showing up after having caught the end of their conversation.] Wait. Are you telling me that anyone here is actually surprised that Valentine was never planning on allowing those with the actual power and resources to hunt him down and hold him accountable for committing mass genocide to live after he made the wish?!

Alec: The dead guy's got a point.

Simon: Seriously?!

Alec: [Shrugs with a small amused smirk.]

Jace: [Making his way through the thick crowd.] Alright, sorry... Coming through... Look man, I got here first, and I'm trying to reach my girlfriend and my parabatai over there! So, unless you want me to make you move...

Clary and Alec: JACE! [Both rush over to throw themselves in his arms, nearly knocking him and a bunch of innocent bystanders over.]

Jace: Whoa! Easy! You'd think you guys thought I was dead or something! OW!

Alec: [Having slightly pulled back to hit him over the head.] Not funny, Jace! I felt the bond break, you dumbass!

Jace: [Wincing apologetically.] Yeah, that must have been unpleas - OW!

Clary: [Having just hit him, too.] And I watched you die.

Jace: [Rubs the back of his head awkwardly.] Okay, sorry. Too soon?

Alec: [Still visibly shaken and close to tears, throwing himself back into Jace's arm alongside Clary.] Just don't ever do something like that again. I told you to be careful?

Jace: [Tightening his hold on his parabatai.] I know, and I swear I was! Leaving you behind felt like a part of me was being torn apart, too, by the way. I'm sorry we lost, but I'm glad you're here. Death would have been Hell without you.

Clary: [Hugging them both, slightly amused.] You guys let me know if you need a moment?

Jace: [Almost possessively crushing them both in his embrace.] Nope! You two aren't going anywhere! I need both my soul and my heart here with me, thank you very much! At least for a few more minutes.

Alec: Good thing I no longer need to breathe. Clary: [Chuckling.] You and me both!

Imogen: [Wisely chooses to observe the very emotional reunion from a distance.]

Simon: So, Magnus, have you and Alec gotten back together yet?

Isabelle: Simon! We barely all just got here!

Simon: And they haven't even kissed yet? I mean, come on! What are they waiting for? I get you're upset that Alec didn't tell you about the Soul Sword right away, Magnus. But with the Clave threatening to take his position away, and Robert having used it as leverage against them...

Isabelle: [Warningly.] Simon...

Simon: What?

Isabelle: [Stares back pointedly.]

Simon: Wait. Was I not supposed to have known about that?

Isabelle: [Sighs.] I might, indeed, have forgotten to ask Alec for permission before telling you...

Simon: Oops.

Magnus: Telling me what? What is he talking about?

Robert: [Joining them with Maryse and Max.] The only reason Alec didn't take the fall and lose his position over Valentine escaping while in his custody was because I threatened the Clave to let Alec know about us having lost the Soul Sword, and they were scared the minute he did, he would let the Downworld leaders of New York know as well.

Magnus: Are you telling me that Alec wasn't supposed to know about the Soul Sword when I came to the Institute to have dinner with him, and the Clave indirectly finding out he did might have landed you both in hot water?

Robert: There's a bit more to it, but that could have been a possibility, yeah...

Luke: [Having finally reached them, Raphael in tow.] Told you Alec was trying, and we should have continued to trust him...

Magnus: Mistakes were made...

Raphael: Yeah, he probably needed a moment to figure out how to navigate that whole mess with the Clave… You know, in hindsight, we'd have stood a better chance continuing to work with the New York Institute rather than accepting the Seelie Queen's terms...

Magnus: I have regrets...

Luke: To be fair, she did say that the Seelie Court had been beyond the reach of the Angels and their powers for quite some time now, and promised us all asylum...

Simon: [Scoffs.] Pretty sure she just meant the Seelie Court had been beyond the reach of the Angels and their powers for quite some time because the Angels had shown no interest in reaching them for quite some time, too!

Magnus: [Blinks a few times as it suddenly dawns on him.] Oh.

Luke: ...

Raphael: Yeah. I can't believe any of us fell for that.

Meliorn: If that's any comfort, the Queen's been heavily sulking in that corner over there ever since we all got here...

Isabelle: [Almost jumps back, caught off guard by the sound of Meliorn's voice talking right next to her.] Okay, where are you all suddenly coming from?

Raphael: [Ignoring Isabelle's question, and pretty much having decided not to question anything that happens in this place anymore.] It is a bit of a comfort, actually.

Luke: Yeah...

Simon: Yup! Not to be the petty one, but serves her well!

Alec: [Returning to their small group and going to hug Max and his father.] Have I missed anything interesting?

Isabelle: [Shrugs with an amused smirk] Just Simon proving he's got more brains than all of us combined, apparently.

Alec: [Confused.] What?

Luke: He detected the hidden lie in the promise that the Seelie Queen made to keep the Downworld safe from Valentine upon hearing it right away, while we'd all missed it.

Simon: To be fair, after that whole kissing stunt she pulled on us, I've been expecting the worst from her.

Alec: We should always expect the worst from her.

Luke: Yeah, expecting the worst from the Seelie Queen is pretty much "Shadowhunting 101".

Simon: You know, I'm curious... Alec, if the Queen swore to you "You'll be safe in our realm. It has been beyond the reach of the Angels for millennia now", what would be the first thought that would pop to your mind?

Alec: That the Angels have had no interest in interacting with Seelies for millennia, so there's been no attempt on their part to reach it, and that you'll be safe from any Seelies attempting to harm you while you're down there, why?

Simon: [Breaks into a self-satisfied smile.] See!

Magnus: [Groans.] Okay, now you're just rubbing it in.

Alec: [Confused, while looking at all the other members of the Downworld Cabinet.] Wait. Did any of you actually fall for that?!

Magnus, Raphael, and Luke: [Trying to make themselves very small and all avoiding Alec's gaze.]

Meliorn: I didn't! To be fair, that's why the Queen had me temporarily removed from the Cabinet - or more appropriately put under house arrest. She was concerned I might experience a... conflict of loyalty over her intentions of siding with Valentine.

Isabelle: You mean she was concerned you'd attempt to warn us?

Meliorn: Well, she was pretty confident that her Alliance with Valentine, and promise that we'd just keep to our own realm - steering clear of Circle members and Mundanes on Earth- would ensure our safety as well as that of those that had chosen to take Sanctuary with us. But I knew he could lie... [Pauses.] Plus, you might all be credulous idiots - well, except the Daylighter and Mr. Lightwood here, apparently - but I may have grown rather fond of you lot.

Raphael: Are you still unable to lie, or...?

Meliorn: [Sighs and rolls his eyes.] Would you be unwilling to take my word that I didn't wish any of you dead even if I could? I mean, despite working for the Clave, Isabelle's always been willing to bend the rules and protect us at great personal risk. Her brother seemed to be coming around and trying to change the system from within... With the right type of support, I had hope he might succeed... At least, it kept things from being boring.

Luke: Sadly, now we'll never know...

Magnus: All because I overreacted, and pulled out too fast...

Simon: [Snorts.]

Isabelle: [Hits him, trying her own best not to laugh.]

Raphael: [Rolls eyes and sighs heavily.] Sexuals.

Magnus: [Eyes going wide while finishing his sentence.] ...of the Cabinet and the Accords! Lilith!

Alec: [Glares at Simon and his little sister.] Really?! I'll have you know that Magnus isn't - [Suddenly remembers he's got nothing to prove, and really couldn't care less what anyone might think of his love life.] - You know what? Never mind.

Simon: [Stifling his laughter.] Sorry.

Isabelle: [Regaining control over her own emotions.] It's been a long day. [Looks around.] Hey, where's Maia?

Simon: We came across some guy named Kyle on our way here.

Luke: Jordan Kyle?

Simon: Yeah. Apparently, they used to date, and he's the one that accidentally changed her into a werewolf, then left. There seemed to be lots of tension and unresolved business between these two, so I thought it best to give them some privacy.

Raphael: And you're not scared he might try to win her back?

Simon: [Shrugs.] Truthfully? I don't know if it's a side effect of being dead, or what... But I don't feel especially possessive over those I love right now? Kind of like... I don't see why her opening her heart to someone else should replace or remove my own space from hers, or make her love me any less. At this point, I just want all of us to be happy together and find our own peace, you know?

Meliorn: [Nods.] I do. So, once we've settled in this new plane of existence, would you and Isabelle be both interested in joining me to explore what unearthly delights the afterlife might have to offer us?

Simon: [Stunned.] I...

Isabelle: [Laughs and shakes her head bemusedly] You're not wasting any time!

Meliorn: [Shrugs, while smiling warmly and sharing in her amusement.] What can I say? There's obviously an easy chemistry between you two and, from what I've heard, your question about Maia wasn't entirely devoid of interest.

Simon: [Actively thinking this over...] I might need to discuss it with Maia first, and I've never been with a guy before, but... I mean... Well, I'm not sure about being sexually attracted to you, but I'm strangely okay about the idea of sharing an intimate moment and cuddling, at least... Does that make any sense?

Raphael: Yeah. Tons of sense. I'm really not into sex, but emotional intimacy, cuddling, and closeness is often good, regardless of gender.

Isabelle: [Smiles dreamily.] Raphael's cuddles are amazing. And this has nothing to do with the yin fen, by the way.

Meliorn: I'm into pretty much everything - even when not directly involved - although I'd never enjoy watching or sharing while knowing it makes anyone uncomfortable. If all agree, I say Raphael should be welcome to join us for cuddles, if he wishes!

Raphael: [Considering.] Maybe I will... Although, it may take some time for me to get used to the idea of cuddling up to a group of people...

Isabelle: Hey. We can start by spending some time on our own, too. Or even stop there if you're not comfortable going any further. Like Simon said, I don't think developing our own more exclusive relationships in a place like this would ever take away from anything else my heart might be comfortable sharing with others.

Simon: Agreed. No one should ever feel pressure to do anything they may not want to.

Raphael: [Blushing lightly.] Thanks. I'm not saying "no" to getting close to anyone else. It's just a lot of new things to adapt to for now, and I've always been someone that enjoys taking my time to build friendships. Even on the romantic front, such connections occasionally happen, but they don't exactly do so frequently, nor easily.

Simon: Yeah, I get why suddenly getting close to a bunch of people might be a little overwhelming in that context.

Raphael: Might have an easier time cuddling up to you, though.

Simon: [Shocked.] Me?!

Maia: [Showing up with Jordan, holding each others' arms, looking relaxed and happy.] Don't sound so surprised. You're a pretty amazing guy that makes people easily feel loved and safe. I mean, we might have been joking that everyone wants to have sex with Jace, but I think an even higher number of us just want to cuddle you up!

Clary: [Returning with Jace, looking slightly out of breath, despite not needing it, hair a bit tousled.] Who wants to have sex with Jace now?

Meliorn: I do.

Magnus: I don't.

Raphael: Me neither.

Alec: I thought I once did.

Maia: Been there. Done that. Might want to do it again.

Jordan: Yeah, I can see the appeal.

Luke: Bit young.

Raphael: Give it a few hundred years.

Luke: Still, we've got a bit of a father and son - or at least weird uncle - vibe going on...

Maryse: I think Robert and I will both pass.

Robert: Amen to that.

Isabelle: Yeah, and with the whole brother thing, for me that'd be too weird...

Max: Ew...

Jace: [Mock glaring at Max.] Geez! Thanks, bud!

Max: You're my big brother!

Jace: [Playfully ruffles his hair.] I know! Just messing with you!

Simon: I... might?

Isabelle: [Shocked, but also greatly amused by the admission.] Really?!

Simon: Truthfully?! There's a lot I'm questioning right now.

Imogen: I don't. He's my grandson.

Simon: [Confused, looking at Isabelle.] Wait. She's still here?

Isabelle: [Shrugs.] Apparently.

Jace: Well, as flattering as all the attention is - and I can't believe this is coming from me - but it would appear that I've been having rather strong monogamous instincts lately.

Meliorn: And we shall all respect that.

Clary: [Teasingly gasps in shock.] But what about your Bookclub?

Jace: [Leaning in to tenderly kiss her.] I'm sure they'll find something else to read.

Max: [To Robert.] So... If you can have more than one girlfriend or boyfriend, why did you cheat on Mom?

Maryse: Max!

Robert: Because the Clave's traditions would have us believe that it is wrong and against the will of the Angels - that everything about our lives has to be about resisting our impulses, leading with our heads, and putting duty above all else.

Alec: Yet I'm pretty sure that what hurt Mom the most isn't that you fell in love with someone else, too, Dad; but that you lied about it, and tried to keep it away from her rather than addressing the issue as partners.

Maryse: It's true. Although I've been so conditioned by the Clave to believe that loyalty and exclusivity in a matrimonial partnership between Shadowhunters is everything, that I might have wished to get divorced either way. Oddly enough, I think Robert and I have always been better together as friends.

Robert: I couldn't agree more.

Max: Okay, but if I wanted to have two girlfriends... Or a boyfriend and girlfriend?

Isabelle: [Laughs.] How about you start with one? You'll know if polyamory feels right when you get there.

Max: What about you, Alec?

Alec: I've got nothing against polyamory, and I'll admit to perhaps being a bit of a closeted "hugger", but -

Simon: I knew it!

Alec: [Fixes Simon with a stern stare over his sudden interruption.]

Simon: [Recoils sheepishly.] Sorry... [Grins, as he playfully decides to put Alec's declaration to the test.] Come here! [Starts to move closer with his arms held wide open.]

Alec: [Says nothing, but rolls his eyes and groans - pretending to be annoyed - yet still walks right into Simon's open embrace and wraps his own around him in a big, heartfelt hug.]

Simon: [Momentarily freezes and isn't exactly sure how to respond, because, to be honest, he was expecting Alec to back away from him and/or firmly tell him "no", like Jace had, once.]

Alec: [Closes his eyes and lets out a satisfied hum, relaxing further into the embrace, while making no indication that he's intending to let go anytime soon - or ever.]

Isabelle: [Is trying not to laugh.]

Simon: [Awkwardly shifts a bit, only causing Alec to tighten his hold to keep him firmly in place and hide his nose in the crook of his neck.]

Magnus: [Can barely breathe while doing his best to contain his laughter as well.]

Simon: [Whispering.] Izzy? Izzy, what do I do? He's not letting go, Izzy.

Isabelle: [Biting the interior or her mouth to help her stay in control.] Yeah, you might be stuck there for a while...

Maryse: [Chuckles.] Pretty sure he and Jace hugging it out could well last 10 minutes, sometimes.

Simon: [Eyes go wide as he mouths back "10 minutes"? to Izzy.]

Magnus: [Is now wheezing.]

Alec: [Shoulders start shaking lightly as he starts struggling to keep himself from laughing, too.] Yeah, but we're parabatai. Want me to let you go?

Simon: [Hesitates.] Yeah. Maybe? I mean, it's nice and all, but you basically went from being unable to remember my name and looking at me like you want me dead, to giving me one of the biggest hugs anyone's ever offered me in my life!

Alec: [Chuckles and moves back, but still briefly holds Simon's arms to steady him, only fully letting go once he's sure he's found his balance and is solidly standing on his own.] Can't want you dead now that you already are, Simon.

Simon: [Frowns.] Good point. [Realizes.] Hey! You said Simon!

Alec: [Smiles knowingly while shrugging it off.] I did. [Moves back to return his attention towards his little brother.] So yeah, I'm fine with hugging my family and close friends, but I'm pretty sure I'm rather strongly on the monogamous end of the spectrum as far as romance and sexuality goes...

Simon: [To Izzy.] Wait. Did your brother imply I'm part of his "family and close friends" group?

Isabelle: [Amused]. You mean, you didn't know?

Luke: Yeah, even I caught the exasperated big brother vibes rolling off him in waves whenever you're around.

Raphael: Or the way he'll get all worked up about you getting yourself into trouble, and express worry that you'll be doing anything impulsive and stupid that will only make his work harder.

Magnus: Pretty sure I even caught him saying "That little shit! I swear, next time I see him, I'm going to wring his neck!" once, before taking off to go fix one of the messes you'd inadvertently caused.

Isabelle: That bad, huh? Usually, that's the kind of talk he uses while referring to Jace.

Maryse: You've never had an overprotective big brother looking after you, have you?

Simon: No. Just one big sister. No brother.

Maryse: That explains so much.

Alec: [Eyes widen in distress as it suddenly dawns on him.] Oh, shit. Simon, I'm so sorry...

Magnus: [Looking at Alec with concern.] What is it?

Alec: [A little helplessly.] His sister, and his mother, they're...

Simon: [Looking a bit dejected, too.] Mundanes, I know...

Alec: [Taking this apparently really hard.] And we've left them all behind with a bunch of sociopath Circle members, and no one to protect them.

Luke: Well, at least the Circle was always about cleansing Earth from demonic influence to keep the Mundane world safe.

Raphael: Yes, until they all collectively decide that "demonic influence" isn't only defined by the presence or absence of demonic blood, and that anyone with "impure ideologies" must be cleansed...

Magnus: Somehow, if you're trying to be reassuring, I don't believe this is helping, my Dear Raphael.

Raphael: [Confused.] Is "being reassuring" what we are supposed to be doing?

Magnus: [Points towards Alec that seems to be starting to have a bit of a mental breakdown, and Simon's increasingly concerned looks.]

Raphael: Oh. Right.

Alec: [Mostly to himself, starting to pace...] I was so relieved that everyone I loved was safe - [Winces slightly, as he realizes that "being dead" might not be what people would typically considered "safe".] relatively speaking - that I was starting to forget about all those people we were supposed to protect, and that got left behind...

Magnus: Alec, they they aren't all your responsibility.

Alec: Aren't they?! Nephilim were created to protect the world from demon, and we just -

Sudden booming voice resonating in the white space: This is Raziel speaking. I am receiving an abnormally heavy volume of prayed requests for answers right now. This is thus a public service announcement. First, my apologies over what happened, but I did not have the power to refuse to grant anyone the wish as proper procedures had been followed; a mistake we angels shall try to avoid making in the future. Due to the current volume of new arrivals, your souls have all been placed in a temporary waiting area. If you are here, that means you aren't going to any Hell dimension. If some of you suddenly start glowing and vanishing - no worries - that only means your own corner of Heaven has been properly set to welcome you, and you should all be joining your friends and families in a timely manner. In response to the horrific nature of the wish that was made, please take note that all surviving Nephilim have been utterly stripped of their runes, sight, and any angelic powers, and all further attempts to contact or summon us shall be properly ignored.

[Pauses as the sound of collective cheering in the room would have made it difficult for even Raziel's voice to be heard.]

Raziel: Those that come to genuinely see the errors of their ways and repent might be granted salvation. Others shall be lost. Mundanes should be safe from any demon that has been killed through the wish until they fully reform in Hell dimensions and somehow attempt to return to Earth, but we expect this to take a few centuries. Until then, we shall be monitoring the situation.

Simon: [Looking relieved at the news.] Well, this is reassuring.

Alec: [Looking relieved, too, but still reeling a bit.] Yeah... Yeah, this is good. I mean, if Circle members are just a bunch of jerks without powers, Mundanes should be able to look after themselves, right?

Simon: Sure! Plus, I mean, a few centuries is a long time, you know? Long enough for them to start World War IV and possibly nuke the planet.

Clary: You know, Simon's right. Demons possibly returning to Earth in a few hundred years is likely not the first thing Mundanes should be worrying about right now.

Izzy: Well, that sure is a very uplifting thought.

Alec: Yeah... [Sarcastically.] I'm feeling much better about it now, thanks.

Simon: Anytime, bro'!

Alec: So, basically you're telling me the Earth is doomed regardless of anything we did?

Clary: Most likely.

Alec: Great.

Magnus: [Wrapping his arms around himself.] Well, at least, you're not the one that let his personal issues get in the way of his ability to think clearly, and made a terrible mistake that ended up indirectly costing all of us our lives, and breaking your heart in the process.

Alec: [Concerned and confused, taking a small step towards him while searching for his gaze.] How is any of what's happening here your fault, Magnus?

Magnus: [Hugging himself tighter.] Simon and you saw right through the Seelie Queen's hidden lie right away, Alexander! If I'd let you explain how you found out about the missing Soul Sword in the first place, if I'd known the Clave had been threatening to take the Institute from you, I...

Alec: [Interrupting while going to stand right in front of him, trying to get all of his attention.] Yeah, but you didn't know. And part of the reasons you didn't know is because I thought keeping my own problems from you would protect you from being under more stress after everything that had happened with the Clave and Valentine. [Grabs and tenderly hold one of his hands again.] Point is, we all made what we believed to be the best choices we could make with whatever knowledge and resources we had available at the time.

Magnus: [Stares back a him, listening attentively, but still looking unsure.]

Alec: [Reaches with one hand to cup Magnus' cheek with his free hand.] All I know is that I don't think I could have lived without you, and I'm pretty sure I simply can't move on without you now, either. [Almost pleading with him.] Magnus, I love you.

Magnus: [Gaze softening, reaching to cover Alec's hand with his own and closing his eyes for a moment.] I love you, too, Alexander.

Alec: [Beams back at him.] Good. Then I need you to let go of that guilt, and trust me when I tell you that things are going to be okay, alright?

Magnus: [Nods and lifts his head to kiss him, wrapping his hands around his neck.]

Alec: [Meets Magnus' lips halfway, securely wrapping his own arms around his back, holding him close.]

Simon: Ah, guys, I think you're...

Isabelle: Shh... Don't ruin the moment...

Alec and Magnus: [Keep on passionately kissing while the light that's started to surround them gets brighter and brighter, and...]

Simon: Yup! They're gone!

Isabelle: It's alright, we'll catch up...

Jace: [With his arm wrapped around Clary's shoulders, him and her having both started to glow, too] Yeah, about that... Hope you won't be mad if Clary and I just...?

Isabelle: [Laughs while shaking her head fondly at the sight.] I know, I know, where he goest, you will go, and where he lodgest, you will lodge, and all of that.

Jace: [Returns her laugh, as the light surrounding him and Clary intensify, pointing towards Isabelle.] You seem to forget something else, too. Three go in... [Winks back at her before vanishing with Clary.]

Isabelle: [Noticing that she's also started glowing.] Three come out. [Extends her hand towards Simon.] Want to catch a ride?

Simon: [Laughs, and reaches for her hand, pulling her closer.] Think it'll work? [Quickly finds himself bathed in light, too.]

Isabelle: [Smiles smugly, leaning against his chest, looking up.] Looks like it.

Simon: [Briefly looks away at the rest of the group.] Hope you guys won't mind if we...?

Meliorn: No, you guys go right ahead!

Luke: Sure, you know. Just save us a seat, or a cloud, of whatever we're supposed to be sitting on when we get there.

Maia: Yeah, you can go ahead and kiss her!

Simon: T-t-that's... Wait, that's not what I asked! [The glow surrounding him and Isabelle keep growing brighter.]

Isabelle: Yes, but Mr. Simon Simon Lewis, would you like to? Unless you no longer think I'm hot?

Simon: [Chuckles and brings his attention back to her.] Oh no, you're still and always have been hot... And glowing... Wow, you're just glowing so bright right now! Think we - [Gets interrupted by Isabelle finally locking lips with him, to the sound of their friends cheering.]

Catarina: [Arrives with Madzie in tow, just as Simon and Isabelle are disappearing together in the middle of a heated embrace.] Hey guys! So if that was Isabelle, and Alec's not here, I suppose that means he and Magnus already moved on?

Raphael: [Nods.] Yeah.

Catarina: [Sighs.] Damnit. Madzie's been asking to see Alec and we've been searching for them ever since we got here.

Maryse: Yeah, you just missed them. My only kid that has yet to cross over is Max, over here.

Madzie: [Perks up as she leaves Catarina's side to go stand in front of Max, and extend her hand to him.] You're Alec's little brother? I'm Madzie.

Max: [Smiles back at her and shakes her hand.] Yeah, I'm Max. Nice to meet you, Madzie. Whoa? Are those gills? They look so cool!

Madzie: [Beams back at him and starts glowing. Max, too.]

Max: [Still holding her hand.] Wait. Are you doing that, or are we...?

Madzie: [Shakes her head "no".] Not the one doing it. [Turns towards Catarina with a questioning look.] Mom?

Catarina: [Reassuringly.] It's alright, Kiddo. You two go right ahead, we'll be there in a moment.

Madzie: [Spontaneously throws herself into Max's arms, hugging him.] Are you scared? It's okay. I'll protect you.

Max: [Chuckles and protectively wraps his arms around the Warlock child.] Yeah, I know you will.

Maryse: [Watches as the two vanish, amused.] Yeah, he must like her. Max didn't even argue about having completed his Shadowhunter training, and being the one supposed to keep her safe.

Robert: [Thoughtfully.] I was just thinking that.

Raphael: [Slightly annoyed.] So, are we all supposed to form couples before we're allowed to move on? Because I'm going to be stuck here for a very, very long time.

Catarina: [Rolling her eyes.] God, I sure hope not! But, you know, just in case. [Goes to Raphael's side and wraps and arm around his waist.]

Raphael: [Glares back at her, but doesn't try to move away from the embrace.] Seriously?

Catarina: Would you rather cross over on your own?

Raphael: [Challengingly holds her gaze, but stays silent.]

Catarina: [Smugly.] Just what I thought. Besides, Magnus would be upset if I didn't make sure his kids didn't get lost somewhere on their way home.

Raphael: [Sighs] I hate you.

Catarina: [Chuckles.] No you don't.

Imogen: [Outraged.] What are you doing, Seelie?

Meliorn: [Innocently, while linking arms together with her.] What? If Raphael's theory is correct, you'll be stuck here a very long time otherwise.

Imogen: [Still unimpressed.] And why is that?

Meliorn: [Chuckles.] Most people tend to run away at the sight of thorns. [Lifts one of her hands to bring a gentleman's kiss to it.] While we Seelies know thorns are meant to protect a much gentler, softer, pliant core...

Imogen: [Blushes, taken aback by the compliment, having obviously not expected it.]

Luke: [Having started to glow while standing on his own.] Yeah, I might have to put a question mark on that theory...

Maryse: Oooh! Wait up! [Moves to Luke's side to go wrap an arm around his waist.]

Luke: [Laughs and makes room for her, while putting his own arm around her shoulders and holding her firmly against his side.]

Maryse: [Smiles up at him.] Hope you don't mind. Kinda want to make sure all the kids are okay.

Luke: [Smiles back.] Not at all. [Extends his hand towards Robert.] Robert?

Robert: [Shrugs.] Why not? [Reaches for Luke's hand, coming to stand next to them.]

Catarina: [Points to someone in the distance.] Is that Lorenzo Rey making out with a curly blonde guy over there?

Raphael: [Nods.] Yeah, probably a good thing Magnus left early.

Maryse: [Follows Catarina and Raphael's gazes, as the light surrounding her, Luke, and Robert keeps on glowing brighter.] Oh! The curly blonde guy's named Andrew Underhill, by the way!

Catarina: You know him? A Shadowhunter?

Maryse: [Nods.] One of our best.

Catarina: [Bemusedly.] What is it with Warlocks and Shadowhunters, lately?

Raphael: [Notices that Lorenzo and Andrew have started glowing, too.] I don't know, but I'm not kissing you to see if it'll allow us to leave faster.

Catarina: [Gives him a pointed glare, while Luke, Maryse, and Robert vanish together.]

Maia: Ah, I wouldn't worry about that too much. [Looks around, as she notices that everyone else in their small group has also started to glow.] I think we're all catching the next ride.

Imogen: [Not listening to anyone in the group, too busy making out with Meliorn while attempting to start loosening his armor, Meliorn eagerly doing the same with her shirt.]

Raphael: Okay, he really wasn't kidding about being into pretty much anything.

Catarina: I... Don't think I can ever unsee that.

Jordan: Right there with you.

Maia: Here's hoping they show up somewhere in their own private room when get to the other side.

[seventh7crow]

crazy rant about something that's been rotting my brain, but if D&D really wanted to cut the show short, why didn't they let the Night King win?

i am definitely not one for nihilistic, sad and everything bad endings, but letting the Night King win would have been a much more majestic way to end up the show, or to at least cut it short until someone else wanted to take over. i'll explain, because probably nobody is agreeing with me, but that's what Tumblr is for.

first of all, i have to say that i fucking pray all the time for George R. R. Martin not to choose something like this as an ending for the books, because i do not think it truly goes with the full message of the story, but let's get going.

as far as i know, the whole deal with the show's ending it's that the writers wanted to do other stuff, and therefore stopped caring, doing stupid choices and blaming it on “subverting expectations”. however, if they truly wanted that… why didn't they let the evil win?

of course, it would have been the most unexpected choice, but also much easier for their lazy asses: most of the plots could have been let unfinished (because, well, you don't have much time to complete your character arc when there's a fucking ice zombie apocalypse) and the writers would only have to make sure that certain things remained making sense until the end. and by those things i mean people not respawning suddenly (ehem, the dothrakis) or teleporting from place to place.

only a bit more of information about the Night King would have been needed: put revenge as the motion of all of it, or better, make it seem like it is at first and show us the truth behind it. show how the Night King once was a victim of that famous “wheel” Daenerys once talked about: the children of the forest and the first men fought, and so they condemned the Night King forever, so now he wants to destroy the wheel. imagine he thinks of himself as a savior too: peace beyond the grave, every single soul united in one big will without no other intention to interfere.

imagine we learn how his plan has evolved: at first, he only wanted everyone to suffer the same cruel fate he once experimented. but then we discover how he came to learn to see a future after death. one that it's better, one that it is more fair. one without wars, or hunger, or pain, or even seasons to interfere: nothing more than a peaceful, long night.

we learn this through Bran, and we resonate with his motives thanks to Jon, through whom we discover that there's nothing after life if it's not for the Night King's plan.

some of our heroes' faith wavers, and maybe we even see some men and women willingly switch their sides, ergo, kill themselves. fighting to death for the aftermath to be totally empty? why not choose a peaceful, everlasting afterlife?

however, we see the strong will of most of the characters to remain alive: the freedom of one's soul and all the things that it brings us, such as love itself. they realize all the many reasons there are to, well, decide not to “live” as a meaningless zombie forever.

but at the end, no matter how much they fight, the white walkers take over the whole place, killing everyone and growing in number. some lose their will and let themselves die, some fight to the end, but the Long Night comes and nothing but snow is left behind.

in my version of these events, only the dragons survive (maybe someone might think about some characters making it out, and it could be cool, but in my version all of them die). with ice symbolizing death and fire life, they are the only remaining beings full of it to escape the doom. Rhaegal, Viserion and Drogon arrive Essos, where people are confused about the radio silence from Westeros. after many years, some of Essos' most curious minds decide to explore what happened, possibly even sending grayscale infected as test drives, confused about why the dragons do not want to travel back to Westeros.

like that, the Song of Ice and Fire is told to the following generations: a story about a war between life and death where unfortunately the latter stressed on its inevitability. “Valar Morghulis” or “all men must die” it's repeated more than ever, gaining a new meaning when people popularize newer doctrines where it is key to accept death as part of live. at the end of the day, if they remain uncertain of the consequences of not embracing it, they can always visit the ruins of the forgotten continent of Westeros to see the undeath roaming the land.

well this was just a silly little idea, to be honest, so don't mind me too much. however, even this stupidity would have made more sense that the actual Game of Thrones ending. i feel it would have been cool to see sacrifices such as people deciding to “stay behind” to burn the bodies and ensure their loved ones didn't turn into white walkers, risking themselves to become “others” as well. it would have also been great to see the last images of Westeros be the Essosi people arriving to a frozen landscape. maybe the only survivors could have been some remaining children of the forest.

at the end, it all would have been more cathartic. no less controversial than the actual ending, but i feel like it would have made more sense? i don't know, i just hope you all like the idea, or at least that you find it interesting!

[agnessmadness]

this guy gives him the CREEPS ! his expression were clear to him that he was frustrated with the questioning of his majesty's decision -- is this guy Jugram's secret son or something ? pretty sure Jugram said something similar at Bazz-B when he also questioned -- well , more angry at the decision he made . he was also a tad bit frustrated , thinking Haschwalth was going to and was believed -- almost engraved to his brain , that he was going to or already becoming into the position of future emperor . but he was moreso confused , like Samael said , he was questioning his majesty's decision and the reasoning for such turn of event .

Jugram was there long before that Uryu guy , he have seen that blond lashes pretty face since around the first war . but all he could think of this entire situation is that it felt intentional , was his majesty testing us ? whatever , it got nothing to do with him , somewhat . he doesn't know that Uryu kid nor he's that close to Yhwach to ask or raise a question . all that can do is wait until the answer's come by itself , but that's not even a definite thing to happen . he supposed he'll stop caring about it after a couple hours from now on .

the current situation felt dire . it was the invasion of Soul Society and getting themselves ready for another blood war to fight to destroy the three realms -- AHEM ! - to fight for 'peace' .

fighting among each other would be deemed useless now , they could have done that any other day .

but this guy seems like he just wants them to fight to the death , which felt odd . sure it can be fun to watch but if you get yourself caught up in a fight then ain't nothin' fun about that . you'll just get yourself beat up alongside the losing team .. he seems like the type to just watch as the fight happens and laughs or eat some popcorns while doing so -- but Askin isn't better when the time's right so he won't even bother .

brows furrowed .

this guy's fatally annoying .. why does he have to share a position and letter the same as this guy ?!

" are you threatening me ? to answer your question - I'm no gambler , I wouldn't bet on it persay . I just hope I won't get killed alongside the others , all my effort of getting to this point woulda' gone to waste if that were to happen "

the other one were smiling -- was he amused as his annoyed reaction ? it is pretty rare for someone to really see him this annoyed by someone , he's usually seen more tired or pissing other people off or fearful of everything around him , not annoyed . perhaps , he'll just let this guy enjoy the time while it last .

" are you willing to bet that you wouldn't die before I do ? "

just a sneaky payback .

Ah. it was about the Ishida boy. Truth be told Samael couldn't care less about what the boy brought to the table... although the question did make his brow twitch slightly in irritation, the corners of his lips barely forming a frown as he shook his head.

"I find it wise not to question his majesty's decisions..." It's said with venom laced behind it, clearly his answer was there: complete and utter disapproval.

"I would figure something out, after all we're dying for him anyway. Why not speed up the process?" There's the edge of teasing behind a dull voice, the sternritter moving to sit down across from the other while he leaned against the wall. "Bazzard was acting like a child, the grandmaster simply punished him as seen fit....bring it to a proper conclusion- we would have had an excuse..."

But the clean-up would have been abysmal. Oh well.

"Play it by ear, cull the weak ones..." Now he's simply talking for the sake of it, the sternritter looking back to Askin with a smile. "...who knows, maybe you might be on the end of his majesty's aushwalhen.~"

"Willing to make a bet on that, Askin~?"