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#yes. they also struck down two archangels <3
magpie-trinkets · 3 months
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so i've been playing p5r and this is a summary of the endgame boss battles (and i couldn't have it any other way)
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rangoatemybabynsfw · 5 years
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Guardian Angel Lance sent to protect Keith. Eventually he falls in love which is hella against the rules and loses his halo and wings but Keith is right there and Lance vows to continue to protect him even tho he's mortal now and Keith vows the same
Okay, I loved this so much and spent WAY TO MUCH TIME ON IT.  (Warning, some langst but with a happy ending) Maybe one day I’ll make it into a genuine one-shot.It’s very very long so I put it under a cut.
Also if any of you draw stuff to this please let me know. I think I’m in love with guardian angel Lance.
This guy is so much trouble. Seems to go through guardian angels like tissue paper and Lance quickly finds out why. Any kind of dangerous stunt Keith’s already halfway to doing it. The first day alone Lance has had three minor panic attacks to keep him from a) getting hit by a car, b) keeping him from getting stabbed by someone at a club, and c) not tripping and falling down eight flights of stairs after drinking too much. 
And the next day isn’t better. It’s almost as if Keith likes dancing with danger. The only time Lance doesn’t feel like he’s on edge is when Keith sleeps. Thank god he does that for the recommended 7-8 hours or else Lance would have pulled out his own wings or strangled himself with his own halo within a week. That said, Keith looks…beautiful when he sleeps. Almost like an angel, ironically.
He notices that half the time Keith’s doing dangerous stuff, its for other people. That day he almost got hit by a car, he was grabbing a child out of the street. The almost stabbing was getting a guy to lay off a girl at the club. The almost trip and fall down the stairs was to avoid stepping on the apartment stray cat. He’s…actually a nice guy. 
Keith starts to suspect someone is looking out for him. He’s always had a feeling since he was a kid when there was some kind of divine intervention at work. Like feeling a hand tug him out of the way or push him forward to avoid certain death. And he could feel when there was someone new. This recent one has stuck around the longest, three weeks now. So Keith finds himself talking to what looks like an empty room when it gets quiet at night.
Keith: You’re there, aren’t you? A spirit…or some kind of…angel maybe?
(Lance doesn’t answer him as he’s not allowed to)
Keith: Mom always said…she’d send me a guardian angel if she ever left me too soon. I think…you’re the best one so far since you haven’t run away yet…Thanks…whoever you are.
Keith talks to him all the time after that. Sometimes Lance will sit on the bed right next to him and listen to him talk for hours. Lance starts falling in love with his charge and doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until one unfortunate day he finds a feather. One of his feathers. 
His wings…they’re losing their feathers. And his halo it’s…starting to feel heavy. His body actually…aches. 
With dread and fear, he realizes he’s…falling. He’s becoming a fallen angel because of his love for Keith. This is his punishment and it’s already being carried out. At best he’ll survive and become mortal at worst…he’ll die or become just like…Lucifer himself.
Keith feels that the energy has changed around him lately. It’s a nervous energy growing stronger with each passing day. It’s different from when he feels a change in his watchful guardians. And it’s worrisome. 
Keith: Something doesn’t feel right. Are you there? Answer me!
Lance holds his hands over his mouth in bitter anguish, leaning his failing body against Keith’s wall. He doesn’t want his punishment to get worse. They might erase him entirely if he breaks too many more rules but he so badly wants to talk to Keith. 
Keith: It feels…it feels bad. Are you…sick? Tell me!
Soon the other angels will come and take him away. Replace him with someone else. 
Keith comes closer to where he is, certain Lance is in front of him. Lance can feel the end approaching, the energy of his brothers and sisters getting closer. The last thing he does is reach out and touch Keith’s face, just enough that Keith can feel that weak caress even if he can’t see it. 
Keith: You are sick…you’re dying, aren’t you?
There’s no guarantee he’ll ever see Keith again. It’s likely his errors are too numerous to allow him any mercy. Why not a few parting words? it can’t make it any worse for him. Lance leans forward and whispers into Keith’s ear.
Lance, breathing weakly: Keith…can you…hear me?
Keith, blinking in shock at the beautiful voice in his ear: It’s you…you’re really there.
Lance rasps: Not for…much longer…
Keith, starting to get upset and tearing up: What? No, you can’t go…
Lance: I wasn’t…supposed to…love you…and now…they’re coming…but I’m…not sorry. Falling for you…was the best mistake…I ever made…even if it’s…the last mistake I’ll ever make…I gotta go…they’re almost here…
Keith, now actively crying: No! You can’t! I…I don’t know what you look like! What your name is!
Lance, weakly chuckling: It’s L-Lysandariel…the spear of…l-liberation…but…I l-like…Lance better…it’s…easier to say…
Keith: Lance…
Lance: If I could have…I’d have stayed with you…forever…Bye Keith…be…safe…
The door swings open and in an instant Keith feels alone in his room. He calls out for Lance but no one answers. Keith spends the next several days talking to his empty apartment, hoping someone will answer back. He does research into religious texts for a Lysandariel and only finds a few mentions of someone of a similar name in 5th century bc. Lysandros. A spartan general. No pictures or art. 
Lance goes before a tribunal for his sins. Many think he should be given to the other side for punishment. Hell loves fallen angels. Others think he should be erased in front of other guardian angels as an example of what happens if you break the rules. No one asks Lance anything as he kneels before the others, his wings nearly devoid of every beautiful feather he had. His halo already taken.
Several angels are in attendance but the archangels sit quietly listening to the evidence. Some whisper among themselves with a disdainful eye. Not a good sign. Lance is all but sure that they will erase him or send him to Lucifer to be tormented for all eternity. Finally, someone speaks and Lance shakes at the sound of their awesome voice. This one is softer than others and he recognizes it as Chamuel.
Chamuel: Lysandariel…you are aware of why you’re here. Your love should only be directed to our loving father…and for turning it away you’ve lost your divinity. You are all but mortal now.
Lance: Yes my archangel
Chamuel: What would you do with your divinity, were it returned to you? Remember, while under the gaze of Uriel you cannot lie.
Lance: I would return to my post as a guardian.
Chamuel: Simply a guardian? Or a guardian for the human Keith?
Lance: I…(he wants to lie but it pains him to even think of doing so)…I would return to Keith’s side. 
Uriel: Because it is your duty or because it is your desire?
Lance: Because I must…All I want…is to protect Keith. He needs me…
Whispers abound. Lance said he ‘wants’. Perhaps he’s too corrupted by emotion to stay an angel. He must be struck down to hell. No, no, he must be erased so no other young angels follow his lead. The room goes silent when a new voice booms through the room. Jeremiel. He has the final say among the archangels in attendance as the angel of mercy, grace, and most importantly justice.
Jeremiel: Lysandariel. You were fully aware of the rules of your post but allowed temptation to take hold of you just the same. Zadkiel believes you were trying diligently to do your assigned task. And even though it has cost you dearly…you continue to pursue this assignment knowing it will only cost you more.
Lance closes his eyes and prays. He knows not if God hears the prayers of angels but he hopes he does and will intercede to save him. To pardon him. To forgive and absolve him of his sins.
Jeremiel: The damage from your sins is too great. I do not think you could reattain your divinity, even if given new wings. But you must be made an example of, do you understand?
Lance, shivering with fear: Yes, my archangel
Jeremiel: We have decided. Lysandariel, you are to be given two punishments. The first is to be stripped of your wings.
With a snap, Lance feels them rip from his back with blinding pain like white-hot fire scorching his back. But seconds later it is soothed by the warm hand of Ariel. The injury is healed but the scars will forever remain. 
Jeremiel: And the second punishment is…
*****
Keith wakes to the sound of knocking on his door. He isn’t expecting anyone. Probably a drunk neighbor at the wrong house. It knocks again and then a weak thump like dropping a bag in front of it. Keith opens it to find a guy in tattered rags collapsed in front of his door. No shoes, his feet covered in blisters and cuts.
Keith takes him in, tries to wake him up. He washes Lance up and cleans his cuts. Bandages them too. Then gets him into clean clothes. There’s an awful scar on his back that looks like…could it be? Lance groans while he groggily wakes.
Keith: Lance? Is…is that you?
Lance: Keith…I made it…back to you…
Keith, smiling: You did. Don’t your feet hurt? 
Lance: My everything hurts now…guess that’s what being mortal’s about…
Keith: That’s not the only thing being human is about.
Keith leans forward and kisses Lance. It’s passionate and wonderful and for a second Lance almost feels like he’s got his wings back. They break away from the kiss and Keith’s smiling at him.
Lance: That was nice…but my feet still hurt. My stomach too.
Keith, laughing: When’s the last time you ate?
Lance: Uh…well…never?
Keith: Guess we should fix that, huh, my guardian angel? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.
Keith lifts Lance up and carries him to the kitchen and for the second time in three minutes, he feels like he’s got his wings again. If this is what it’s like to be human then he’s glad to have fallen for Keith.
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nimwallace · 5 years
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Paradise Lost
Aziraphale felt that out of all things on Earth, his favorite by far, were the humans. What quaint and fascinating creatures, absorbed in themselves and material and others, obssessed with the holy and the sinful and the restless; humans are machines without function, and he loved them. He was, in all respects, quite human himself, however he didn't like to admit it. He was just as human as Adam, or Crowley. He was a Holy Being, but an Earthly Being also, with desires and selfish ambition and doubt. All the worlds a stage, as Shakespeare said, and Aziraphale certainly felt that the Almighty was watching Her plan play out like a Greek Tragedy. He wondered if, all along, She had planned for him to be friends with Cr0wley. If she put him near the Eatsern Gate on that day just so he could meet him. He didn't like to think too much of Her plans, though. Best not to question Her. Instead, he satsified himself with literature and music and art and the company of a certain wily serpent with a fondness for Queen. It was a lot easier to cope with all this if there was constantly a sarcastic yet lovely demon to talk to about it. Days went by, then weeks, and months. Soon, it had been a year since the Almost End of the World, and Aziraphale was tiring of fending off customors and and buying new shelves. Crowley was at the shop every day anyway, and that's where Aziraphale's next idea came to him. "Perhaps we should buy a house together." Crowley, who had been relaxing in an armchair, oblivious to the angel's fantasies of domestic bliss, looked up in surprise. "What?" "Buy a house together. Perhaps a little cottage, in the South Downs? I've been thinking, it might be nice." Crowley was still looking startled, but was now considering the idea. "I could have a library, and you could have your garden," Aziraphale pressed on. "Plenty of empty, county roads to race your Bentley down. Hooks on the ceiling to hang your vines." Crowley's eyebrows furrowed. He had been here every day since. . .well, since the end. It wasn't as if Hell would give him any trouble for it any longer. And he could pop over to London whenever he saw fit. "All right," he said. "Why not? Let's buy a house together."
Being roomates with Crowley came, unsurprisingly, easy to Aziraphale. He was already used to seeing the demon lazing about in the sun or yelling at his plants, so there was hardly any change of routine save the location of it. Aziraphale found that, more often, people were mistaking them for a couple, not that he minded it, nor corrected them. He was often referred to as "Mr Crowley" by people in the neighborehood who assumed that he was married to a particular Anthony J Crowley, who had an affinity for human names. Aziraphale still did not know what the "J" stood for. He did not call Crowley Anthony, purely because it was not the name he had always known him by, and found using his third name to be more intimate by far. He had tried Anthony once, and found it tasted completely bitter to his tongue, and Crowley looked digusted besides, so that was the end of that experiment. The longer they lived in the Downs, the easier they became with each other. They had a freedom they did not have before. The first time Aziraphale told Crowley he loved him, it was a mistake. Crowley was about to go out for a bit, there was a concert he wanted to see that Aziraphale had no particular interest in, and he was heading out the door. "I'll be back around 3, yeah? See you, Angel." "Goodbye, my dear. Love you." Crowley froze, and Aziraphale felt his hands go numb on his book. "What was that?" Crowley hissed quietly. "I-I said I love you," Aziraphale said firmly, face bright red and neck warm. "Do stay safe." Crowley, speechless, just nodded, looking a bit dazed, and left. He came home nearly two hours early, threw his jacket on the ground, and kissed Aziraphale fervently. "'Love you too," he explained, and left Aziraphale sitting there, stunned and flustered.
Aziraphale asked about Crowley's days as an angel for the first time in 6,000 years on a warm, rainy morning in August. "Crowley, what was it like before you Fell?" Crowley, who had been lazily tracing the lines of Aziraphale's hands, suddenly stiffened. "Before I was a demon?" he said, somewhat hollowly. "Yes, my dear. If--if it isn't too painful for you. I'd like to know more about it." Crowley was silent for some moments. It is inevitable, as in all things in life, that at some point, you are asked a question so complex and terrible your throat closes and your heart stops. Trauma feels like war, and questions feel like bullets. Crowley, in this moment, nearly keels over like a wounded soldier, he has been struck again. But he does not flinch. Love is a vicious and powerful thing. Love conquers war, always. "I made galaxies," he said quietly. "I--I was a healer, an archangel. One of the big three." "An archangel!" Aziraphale gasped softly. He did not know Crowley had been so important during his time in Heaven. "And a healer, nonetheless. Oh, Crowley." Crowley didn't look at him, but focused on the ceiling. "My name, I--I don't even know if I'm allowed to speak it anymore--my name was Raphael. I don't believe we ever knew each other, then." Aziraphale could've wept, and in that moment, he looked close. "You were Raphael?" he choked quietly. "My dear." "I know. I--I was told I had a lot of potential, you know. But I--I asked too many questions, and I didn't like the archangels, and then, I Fell--" He had to stop there, because he was too close to crying. Crying, for demons, felt a lot like getting burned does to a human. Demons are unforgivable, and their pain, therefore, is excrutiating in all ways. Tears are like wax to them, only hotter and fiercer. "Don't weep," Aziraphale warned, placing a comforting hand on his cheek. "You'll hurt yourself." Crowley swallowed, collecting himself. "When I Fell, I still wanted to be Good," he said. "I still wanted to Heal people. I still do." "I know, darling." Crowley leaned in to his touch. "Don't ever Fall, angel," he said softly. "Not for me. Not for anyone." Aziraphale looked worried, but wanted to comfort him. "I won't, Crowley. It's all right." He was lying.
When Aziraphale Fell, the Heavens didn't weep for his loss. Gabriel gave Uriel a look of "I knew this was going to happen" and Sandelphen only shrugged. When Aziraphale Fell, the only person who wept was Crowley, who bent over his angel's crippled and mangled form and wept harder than he had in his existance, so hard that he could feel his skin burning off and he was trembling all over. Aziraphale lay on the ground, unconscious, bloodied. His ichor had turned an inky black instead of gold, and dripped onto the ground like dew from a foxglove. He had known he was going to Fall, in a way, he knew it since he first guarded that Eastern Gate. He was too much for Heaven, he supposed. He loved too much, and all the wrong things. For a start, Crowley. The final straw, the one that landed him here, had been asking for Crowley's forgiveness. He didn't know quite what he expected to come from it. Maybe that somehow, Heaven would take him back. Instead, they threw Aziraphale out. "If you want him to be like you," they said, "go join him."
He first opened his eyes to meet Crowley's. "I'm sorry," Aziraphale said. And the stars trembled.
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qfantasydragon · 5 years
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Diving
Author’s note: This is part 4 in an ongoing fic. You can find part 1 here, part 2 here, and part 3 here. It’s also up on AO3 (x)
Part 5
“What’s wrong?” Adam asked as Them crowded into the back room.  
Crowley blinked.  
He was on his knees. He didn’t remember getting there.  
The note was crumpled in his fist. He watched impassionately as his fingers uncurled and dropped it.  
“‌I think he’s in shock,” Pepper said, fascinated. To Crowley, it sounded as though it was coming from a great distance away, as though he was in a bubble.  
“Somethings wrong,” Adam worried. Dog scampered over, sniffed at Crowley and let out a surprisingly deep bark that rippled through the room.  
Crowley’s bubble popped.  
“Get out,”‌ he hissed at them, scales surfacing on his skin.  
“Wait a minute–” Wensleydale started to protest.  
“They have taken Aziraphale,” Crowley bared his teeth. Thunder rumbled outside. “Where I need to go to get him back, you should pray you never see.”  
Adam gave him an appraising look. There was a twist behind his eyes that looked strange on an eleven-year-old, a subtle reminder that he had been the Antichrist– that he had stood before Death, angels, demons, and the Devil himself and said no them all.  
“Come on guys, let's go. Let us know when you get him back.” The Them all filed out, unnerved by the red-black scales and the hissing undertone of Crowley’s words.  
When you get him back. Behind his glasses, Crowley closed his eyes, hoping that it was indeed a when and not an if.  
He leaned back against an armchair (Aziraphale’s armchair, his favorite that he’d gotten in a sale during the late 1800…) and took a deep breath.  
The demon couldn’t get to Hell through official routes, not anymore. Which meant he had to use the backdoor.  
“I hate traveling like this,” he muttered to no one in particular before wriggling his soul out of his body.  
Then, Crowley dove.  
Their memories of before the Fall were fuzzy at best– a side effect of having their name stripped from the Book of Truth. They had been a different person then, but they still remembered with painstaking clarity what had stripped the clouds out from under them.  
They had asked why.  
All of the angelic language was song, and Crowley thought that, once upon a time, perhaps, they had been a great singer of it. On the days when the memories were clearer, they thought perhaps they had been an archangel.  
But that ‘why’ had rippled through the crowd far harder than its vibration warranted. Its echo had been made of “we do not question” and “have you no faith?“, but Crowley had let their question stand, a jagged black mountain in a sea of rolling grass.  
They had not bent. They had not bowed.  
And so the clouds no longer supported their feet and they fell.  
Some ancient scholar had theorized it took nine days for the Devil’s army to reach the Earth. Add in the caveat that a thousand years was like a day to God, and you would be close to the time Crowley spent plummeting downwards.  
The first day they felt the moment their name was struck from the Book. They felt as that gift from Her, that Word that had called them into existence, was cut free from them with all the grace of an early surgeon removing a limb. They begged for it back and heard nothing.  
The next seven days were spent hurtling through the void, dodging past stars and black holes, trying desperately to catch onto the nebulas they thought-- they knew they had created such a short time ago, only to have them twist through their hands like smoke.  
Crowley still remembered the moment they had hit the atmosphere.  
Their wings had always been dark, but once they had been filled with the galaxies he had created and watched over. With the touch of oxygen, those star-filled galaxies had all gone supernova. They had arched their back and screamed, a sonic boom circling outward. Some of those stars collapsed, forming black holes that ate away everything that was left until there was only darkness in their feathers.  
Then they hit the earth.  
Their wings shattered, and would never be quite the same, never again strong enough to carry them up to Heaven. Clay coated them, where before they had been nothing but song and starlight and soul.  
Such was the force of his Fall that they kept going for another nine days until they finally slowed to a stop in the red-lit sulfurous cavern where the demons made their home.  
They were heading back to that cavern now, but in many ways, this journey was the opposite they had made before the Beginning.
For one, they had abandoned their body on earth and this time were left with their true form.  
There were other differences too, of course.  
Last time they had been Falling  
This time they were diving.  
Last time, they had been leaving behind everything they knew.  
This time they were headed towards the only thing they did know.  
God’s fond of irony like that.
They folded their wings into shadows and smoke as they surfaced in Hell. Amongst the flickering light and drips, they were just one more dark patch, one more off-kilter noise. Crowley had been slipping in and out for centuries. No one noticed them.
They stole along damp hallways, a whisper, the ghost of someone else’s shadow.
Where would they be keeping him? Crowley thought to theirself as they slipped through a group of damned souls. Where would they put an angel?
Legion came by, and Crowley flattened against the wall to allow all of him to pass by.
Of course, the answer came to them while they waited, an angel down here is a prize. The conference room.
When the demons had first landed in Hell, they had carved out a room where all of them could meet and discuss their next step. No one used it much anymore, but it was still considered the heart of Hell. As much as Hell could be said to have a heart.
Crowley slithered through the halls until they found the right door, then squeezed theirself under the crack.
The room was large and small all at once; capable of expanding and contracting to fit hundreds of beings to whom size was an optional feature. It also had not been updated since Ceasar came into power. It still looked like a dark, damp, Greek theater, a cavea in not much better shape than the ones still standing on Earth. It was tiered, semicircle affair, rows of benches descending to a flat floor, where the speaker would stand. Crowley was at the very highest level, looking down.
“Is he still sleeping?” buzzed a familiar voice.
“He won’t wake up.” muttered an unpleasant, easily identified demon. Hassssstur, Crowley hissed angrily in their mind. Their smoke-and shadow form shifted into something adjacent to a familiar, serpentine one, and they peeked their head down at the bottom of the theater.
At the bottom of the cavea, a large bonfire blazed. Around it stood Dagon, Hastur, and Beelzebub.
“Is something wrong with him?” Dagon asked the other two.
“D’ I look like an angel expert?” Hastur grumbled back at her, “I don’t see any injuries.”
“We lost a lot of demons in the attack,” Beelzebub cut in, “I‌ want to see some use being made of him.”
There was silence for a moment, and Crowley tried to peer closer at them. They were obviously talking about Aziraphale, but where was his angel? And why was he asleep?
“I can’t believe they used holy water,”‌Hastur mumbled.
“I‌ can’t believe they’re married,” Dagon shot back.
“Do you see a better explanation for that?!” the lord of flies gestured at the fire.
And Crowley finally saw.
In the heart of the fire, hovering in what the humans called the fetal position (did that still work for angels? a part of Crowley’s mind wondered blankly. They’d never been fetuses after all) was Aziraphale. Two of his white wings were out, buoyed open by the heat from the blaze. His eyes were closed, his face relaxed, and for all intents and purposes, he did seem to be asleep.
“It’s just plain–” Hastur started to speak.
Crowley stopped hiding.
A star going supernova explodes with the force of 1044 joules of energy. This is enough power to keep New York City shining bright for a nonillion years. (Yes, that is a real number. Yes, it is very large. Look it up.)
Crowley’s power made a supernova look like a cherry bomb.
They were no longer shadow and smoke, they were the void of space and the raging shriek of black holes, the death spasms of stars and the absolute stillness of true zero when even the atoms of the universe waited with bated breath.
They were a serpent, they were a human, they were a demon; they were the beat of drums and the wail of a guitar rebelling against a world that told it to be silent. Their wings were not the nothing of Death’s, but they were close.
Everyone suddenly remembered that even a former archangel was a Force to be Reckoned With.
Crowley slitheredracedstrode down the stairs faster then the other demons could move and coiled around Aziraphale’s still form, scalesfeathers brushing against Aziraphale’s soft wings.
“Crowley,” snarled Hastur, not quite brave enough to step forward.
Hassssstur, Crowley whisperscreamed in reply, If a single one of his feathers has been singed, you'll be going the same way as Ligur.
“And what are you going to do witthhhh him,” Beelzebub buzzed, “He doesn’t have a body anymore and you don’t have anywhere to get him another.”
Thank you for your concccccern, but I’m sure we’ll figure something out.
A part of Crowley’s essence was eyeing the way back up to earth. Long is the way and hard, they thought grouchily. Milton had that right at least. The journey up out of Hell on his own was hard enough as it was; towing Aziraphale along would leave them dangerously slow and exposed. They carefully jostled the angel, trying to wake him up. Aziraphale mumbled something unintelligible and tucked his wings in closer, like a child tugging their blankets up when a parent tried to wake them.  
What did you do to him, they hissedsnarled.
Hastur got a smirk on his face and Crowley knew the next thing out of his mouth was going to be something designed to hurt them.
So they hit him with their tail.
He crashed into the seats, and lay there, moaning.
Dagon took an involuntary step back, but Beelzebub held their ground.
What. Did. You. Do. To. Him. Crowley flared their wings, their power coiling up higher and higher.
Beelzebub held for another second before breaking.
“Nothing,” they spat, “we did nothing to him. Hastur said he found him like that. Though what could exhaust an angel enough to pass out is beyond me.”
The time stop, Crowley realized. Holding it must have worn him out.
Dagon was shifting slowly towards the door, and Crowley swung their attention towards her. She froze.
We can’t stay, Crowley thought, frustrated. We’re going to have to risk it.
An idea sprouted in their mind, and they shifted a few of their coils closer to Aziraphale.
I ssssssuposssse you’re lucky you found him asleep, they breathedshouted, You ssssssshould really talk to Michael about what he nearly did to Gabriel when the angelssssss made their play a few daysss ago. They passed the other demons a very fanged grin. Oh, and if you give usss any trouble ever again, I‌ will make a link from the Pacccific Ocean ssstraight to Hell and have him blesssss the whole thing asss it drainsss. It’ll make the number of demons you lost today look like loossse change.
Dagon scoffed. “You can’t do that!”
Crowley grabbed the essence of Hell with a handclaw and spared a second to examine it.
God enjoyed music, always had, and so all of Her creations were composed, in part, of song. Crowley found the vibrating strings of Hell and strummed them in a discordant screech. They showed the others exactly how they could, in fact, create a link to the Pacific. (Crowley decided not to mention that holding it open might be beyond anyone’s strength but Hers.)
Dagon and Beelzebub were left trembling and more whey-faced than usual.
LEAVE‌ USSS‌ BE.
Then Crowley issued a silent apology to their angel and swallow him whole.
A note on what is happening.
’Swallowed’ perhaps has the wrong connotations in this context, but there isn’t really a word to describe what Crowley did. They wrapped their essence around Aziraphale; they cradled him in them like their heart, like a mother wrapped around her child. They incorporated him into their being; separate, but still a part of them. It was not a thing that anyone had ever tried before.
Crowley flung theirself back towards Earth.
Their form once more became serpentine, a desperate attempt at aerodynamics that only worked because it never occurred to Crowley that it shouldn’t. They were vaguely aware of demons circling them, even snapped at a few, but there was a noise like a million flies and they fell back and Crowley resurfaced in his body, gasping for air like a human that’s been underwater for too long.
Carefully, he peered inside himself.
“Aziraphale?” he croaked, suddenly terrified that it hadn’t worked. But there, against his soul, packed into the same body with him, there was a sensation like soft white feathers brushing over him.
Crowly closed his eyes with relief and cradled a hand over his heart, where he could feel Aziraphale’s bright spark.
“Alright,” he breathed. Alright.
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unclenocturnal · 5 years
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Arch Bluebell - A Good Omens fanfic
summary: After almost Armageddon, Gabriel finds himself lost. The only solution seems for him to reconcile with an angel that he did wrong. 
A fic about Gabriel beginning to learn what it means to live among humans.
Rated: E
Tags: No explicit content, Gabriel focused, ineffable husbands, recovery fic? Bonding fic
Ok. OK i finally finished it, im sorry it took so long it sorta hand a few paragraphs left for a couple weeks now and a couple people asked me to tag them as some point so here ya go @fandomfan315  @sappphica
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20308954/chapters/48146263
The last 35 years haven’t been kind to the Archangel Gabriel, depending on your perspective of the matter. The first 20 of them were of him thrown into a shocked silence. No orders of the great plan’s Armageddon and the plans the rest of the angels wanted to make in order for it to happen. So it seemed, for that short amount of time, that the angels continued on without a purpose. And whenever a colleague asked him about it he would play it off, telling them to wait and be patient. Mostly everyone thought that he had a plan. He didn’t. Well, he didn’t right up until the dawn of the 20th year, where he realized there was only one thing he could do at this point.
The next 10 years were simply spent looking for ex-angel, Aziraphale. He had widely been regarded as a newly fallen, but Gabriel had grown to believe that maybe that wasn’t quite true after all. Even if Gabriel himself was the one that started that rumor in the first place. 
It was much harder than he anticipated. His first thought was to track the angel through his miracle usage, but it seemed that in later years he had been using less and less to the point where he hadn’t used a single one in 5 years. That worried the archangel initially, though he realized it might’ve been due to the lack of holy connection Aziraphale had had over time. 
Going through all the miracles. All of the locations. There was one that had struck him as odd. It was the 5th to last miracle (the last was to help a cat out of a tree), and by the reports it was from a very different location than all of the previous miracles. It was performed by turning a rusty bottle cap into a perfect sand dollar. Gabriel wondered about the nature of the miracle, for what reason would a sand dollar be worthy of a miracle? 
He thought to ask when he arrived. 
The last 5 years were something more of a brace period for him. He had appeared at the outside of his house early in the morning on the same day he realized where Aziraphale was hiding. Peering in through the window, he didn’t expect his own jarring reaction. 
He had somewhat gathered that there was a large possibility that Aziraphale and the demon Crowley would still see each other throughout the time Gabriel had been looking for him. But, what he didn’t expect was to see them together now. Asleep in each other’s arms on the sofa in the cottage living room.
As an angel you can feel the emotions of anyone that came in contact with them. Particularly good and pure emotions rang the most true. What Gabriel also hadn’t expected was to have the presence of a particular emotion hit him like a brick wall the moment he entered the area. That emotion being love, of course. If he was being honest with himself, the next 3 years alone were spent in anger and swore that he would never go back to that blasted cottage. The last 2, merely in a frustrating curiosity that he knew had to be satiated. 
And so, he suddenly appeared once again on the front steps of the cottage 3 months into the 35th year. 
Gabriel clacked his knuckles lightly against the red wooden door. Perhaps a bit too lightly. He knocked again, this time a bit too hard. It didn’t seem to matter as nobody answered anyways. He looked about him and noticed that old vehicle the demon drove was not parked in the designated parking area. 
This was a bad idea anyways. He went to disappear for several more years of uncertainty until a loud thud came from around the back of the cottage. He found his feet moving on their own while his mind raced on all of the reasons for his actions being completely unfounded. 
This really was a bad idea. Down the steps and back around the corner, along the edge of the house were many different pots of all shapes and sizes. As well as a variety of gardening tools.  
He has no reason to confront Aziraphale, especially after all of these years. No reason for him to show up at the doorstep. He finds his way to the corner, peeking into the backyard. There are a large assortment of crops. All of which are growing beautifully and to their fullest capacity. 
What was he even going to say when he saw- 
Around the corner his feet took him and he didn’t see the angel anywhere. Further, he found a couple big bags of dirt, a box of fertilizer, and an unbelievable amount of flowers. He bent down and picked up a pot that had the flower that attracted him most. It was the softest blue and seemed to crane its receptacle towards the ground, as if shy. The state of the flower was something he found he could relate to in a strange way, and it was the first time he ever found himself relating to someone, something, anything. 
A loud clatter snapped his attention up to an open shed with a man wearing a farmers hat and overalls standing just outside of its doors, “Gabriel?”
The Archangel paled. He, for once in his life, found himself at a lack of words. The expression on Aziraphale’s face was that of fear for several moments, seemingly waiting for Gabriel to make his move. But, he found himself stuck there, holding onto this tiny pot with these sad little flowers almost kissing his fingers. He thought that maybe he should put the flowers down, that maybe it would be the polite thing to do in this moment. Though, he couldn’t bring himself to part with it. It seemed to be the only thing that was keeping him from turning around and flying back from where he came. The flower was reminding him that he had to do this. He couldn’t leave until he at least said something. 
“Why are you here, Gabriel?” Aziraphale’s voice was not filled with fear at this point, but more of something more stern. 
“I…” Where was he to start? What would he say after all this time of just working up the courage to talk to him? Would this even solve anything in the end? “I wanted to talk,” was what he settled on.
“I don’t want to talk. Not with you,” Aziraphale took a stance that made it look like he was about to fight him. 
“I’m not here to hurt you, Aziraphale,” Gabriel’s grip tightened on the pot. He wasn’t saying the right things. He wasn’t saying the things that he needed to say. 
“And why should I believe that you have not come to harm us? We’ve lived peacefully here since the events of Armageddon and we intend to keep living this peaceful life. You and the rest of your soldiers, leave. Now.” Taking several steps forward over the discarded tools, his face is stoic and angry- in a way Gabriel hasn’t seen it before. This was not like the almost execution. There was something different about that moment. There was a level of anger to him then, but also an amount of smugness. Here, he was being territorial, protective. 
“Aziraphale,” he realized that he would have to talk much faster to get the angel to let his guard down, “There is no one else here. I am the only one who even knows that you two live here. I’ve known you’ve been living here for a little over five years now.”
His face fell into confusion,” Then why did you come to us now? Why not five years ago?”
“I was afraid you didn’t want to see me. And I didn’t know what I was going to say once I got here.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” the gardeners voice was much less hard than it was before.
“I wanted you to help me understand,” Gabriel attempted to keep his posture confident as he normally does, though he uncharacteristically found that he wanted to curl in on himself and not deal with this situation anymore. It really was intimidating, the way Aziraphale held so much power over him in this moment. 
Aziraphale then let out a baffled huff,” What could I possibly help you with? I was under the impression that  you thought you knew everything.”
He gulped,” I did. But, then I realized that I didn’t. After the Armageddon that didn’t happen, I found myself angry for a long time. Everyone looked to me to continue with the war plans, but something always held me back from carrying them out. I think it was you.“
"Me?" 
"Yes. You and the demon.”
Aziraphale’s face hardened again,“ The demon’s name is Crowley." 
Gabriel blinked,” Crowley. You and Crowley,“ he was sweating and his throat felt dry. He was having reactions that he had absolutely so control over, such human reactions,” Why do you want to live as one of them?“ 
"To live as what? As a human?”
Gabriel nodded. 
The angel took a deep breath in, in thought, letting it out slowly,“ I have a fondness for them. I’m fond of what they’ve created. We, as angels, have been given everything that we could ever need. That even includes creating things that we may need or simply appearing wherever is convenient. Humans never got that. They had to make everything they need or want. And with that need to do so, they’ve created a truly beautiful world, Gabriel. They are flawed, and may do horrible things… but for every bad human, there are several good ones there to remind me that this world is worth it. They also make for excellent conversation, I assure you.”
“Their mortality-" 
"Is a shame, yes. I’ve seen many friends, very good people, pass from the very first years of me walking among them. I would never want to be mortal myself. I don’t desire to be a human, Gabriel. However, there is something to learn from any new person that we meet, even if it’s something you don’t want to hear,” Aziraphale still held himself with anxiety, but he was speaking of truths. The archangel could feel his warm, positive emotions seep through his turtleneck. 
“What could be learned from creatures that barely live past 40 years?” The question came from a place of ignorance, but a true need for a genuine answer was there. Almost like a string that was pulled taut and was just waiting for a chance to break. This was the question, Gabriel realized, he needed to have answered. 
For the first time since they saw each other since Armageddon, Aziraphale smiled lightly,“ Young eyes bring new perspectives." 
That string seemed to snap, and Gabriels head fell mimicking the pale blue flowers he gripped so tightly to his chest. He’s taught himself that the only thing that he needed to trust is his own opinion. For Heaven’s sake, he’s even been told to trust his instincts and his alone. There was a reason why he was an archangel, after all. He figured maybe he should see where other’s instincts lead them. 
Something spilled out of him then that hadn’t been fully realized. Something that was sitting there, festering on his tongue for the last 35 years and he was unable to stop it, “I don’t believe that I can apologize for carrying out what I believed the Almighty’s plan was. But, I do feel genuine remorse for attempting to execute you for doing what you believed was the Almighty’s plan and I apologize completely and wholly for that. I’m sorry that that happened to you, that was my fault,” saying it made something swell in his chest. Something of a mixture between sorrow and relief. 
A light laugh, full of no real humor came from Aziraphale,” I never, in all of my years, would’ve ever thought you would say those words to me. I think you may have misunderstood my intentions though, unfortunately.”
Gabriel tilted his head slightly,” What do you mean?”
“During Armageddon, I was not so much concerned for what I believed God’s plan was. I realize now, I was concerned for the people and beautiful creatures that live here,” He gestures around at his luxurious garden, full with the busy buzzing of honeybees. “The almighty created this world for a reason, it would be quite silly if we were just to destroy it because of some fated war don’t you think?”
Gabriel blinked.
The gardener finally turned back around to pick up his supplies and brought it over to the pile he’d created at the Archangel’s feet. It was the first time they were able to get a good look at each other. Aziraphale looked youthful, full of life. As if he welcomed the idea of eternity and was ready to watch it pass by peacefully. Gabriel, on the other hand, looked sunken and grey. His shoulders were weighed down with such a force that he often wondered if this is how it felt to fall. 
"Do you like those?” He said, pointing at the pot in the archangel’s hands. 
Gabriel took a moment to answer, regarding the calming blue of them and the support that they had brought him in one of the biggest conversations he had in his entire life.
“Yes. I…I believe I do,” he quickly held out the pot for the gardener to take them back. 
Aziraphale’s face seemed to glow, as he gently pushed the pot back into the archangel,“ They seem to like you. Would you like to help me plant them, Gabriel?" 
"You want me to help you plant them?” He asked with slight incredulous. 
“Yes." 
Several seconds of silence passed. "Alright… but, I don’t know how to do anything like this." 
Aziraphale’s warm hand rested lightly on Gabriel’s shoulder,” Don’t worry, dear. I’ll be there to teach you.“ 
———-
             Kneeling on the grass with rolled up pant legs and a discarded jacket, Gabriel sticks his hands into the soil for the first time. He shivers at the feeling.
            "Excellent, Gabriel! You just need to get used to it, really. If you absolutely hate it you can wear some gloves. I typically use them just to avoid splinters or if Crowley just did my nails.”
             The archangel’s awkward form was leaning over the bed of dirt. He was wiggling his fingers, feeling the wet and cool dirt completely,“ What do I do now?" 
"Now, you dig a hole. A big and deep one to plant the roots of our friend here,” he pulls the pot closer to them. Gabriel winced as he started to dig the hole, by trying to push the dirt away, making a rather sad small hole. 
“Here,” Aziraphale hands him a green trowel before instructing the archangel how to use it properly. 
“Good, now; these are called Bluebells and they can grow very rapidly. Which is why we’re planting them away from our garden,” he gestures up to the tree tops that protect them from the harsh sun,” and the shade is good for them. Too much direct sunlight won’t do them any good at all.”
They remain this way for several hours. Gabriel listens, and Aziraphale continues to explain as best as he can to an angel that has never known this kind of life. For each flower placed into the hole, they both work together to cover the holes back up with fresh soil. When the new bed is done they stand back to look at the work that they accomplished together. Gabriel found something within himself shift. Returned to him was some level of contentment he hasn’t felt in a very long time. 
“Thank you,” he said, turning to Aziraphale. 
“For what exactly?” 
“For taking the time to explain it to me,” Gabriel looks down at his dirty hands. The angel takes a moment to look over his former-boss, his expression soft and warm. 
“Of course, my dear,” He places a hand on Gabriel’s upper arm.”Now why don’t we head inside to get you cleaned up?” 
All he thought to do was smile and nod. And Aziraphale, an angel and lover of a demon, welcomed an archangel into his home with open arms. 
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consultingsnowqueen · 5 years
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Wasteland, Baby! Part 3:  We’re a Long Way from Home... Welcome to the Pleasure Dome
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Notes:  Ugh, this felt like it took FOREVER.  It’s not my best because I’ve been so stressed with school, but we’re getting to the fun part now.  I am going to stray from canon but I promise I’ll keep it interesting!  I’ll also be making a masterlist as soon as I get time (and as soon as I figure out how), but if you’re new here and you’d like to read previous parts, let me know and I’ll reblog them or send you a link!
Tags:  @ladynuwanda @tribble-from-wonderland
Summary:  After the bombs went off, a few lucky survivors were placed in Outposts. However, an Archangel-in-training and her mentor are hiding out in Outpost 3. Disguised as a Grey and a Purple, they are waiting to investigate Michael Langdon, the Anti-Christ, and hope to bring peace to the world. Things begin to go wrong, however, when Langdon gets a little too attached to the Archangel-in-training.
Maureen spent days dodging Langdon.  Barely anyone saw her besides Angelo, who was obsessively teaching her protection spells and getting her to steal salt rations from the kitchen because “Oh Maureen, they aren’t putting the salt in the cubes and you know that.  Surely they won’t mind us using a bit of the rations for protection!”  Maureen expected Langdon to be a bit more observant about her sudden disappearance, but he didn’t say anything.  Did he even notice?  Angelo had said that he wanted her to be the only Grey to clean his room.  Perhaps that was just all talk?
It wasn’t that Maureen minded.  God, no. She relished in being away from him. Angelo promised to keep watch and contact her only if needed.  Besides, Evie Gallant had taken a liking to Maureen, well at least liking Maureen as much as Evie could like anyone.  None of the Purples could tolerate her ramblings anymore but Evie remained blissfully unaware of this.  When no one else could understand Evie’s wild Hollywood stories of partying with celebrities, Maureen listened carefully and was able to be truthfully enthusiastic.
“Maureen, dear,” Evie began, lounging on her bed in a nightgown. “Did I ever tell you about how I hosted a wonderful dinner party with Elizabeth Taylor?”
Maureen whirled around from the closet she was organizing.
“Seriously?  Elizabeth Taylor?” Maureen exclaimed, laughing in glee and astonishment.  “Do you have pictures in that photo album you brought?”
Evie patted a spot next to her and Maureen practically jumped on the bed next to her.  Beaming at her audience’s captivation, Evie flipped through the photo album and pointed to a picture of a younger Evie with Elizabeth Taylor herself.  Maureen gasped as Evie began flipping through and telling her stories of the fantastic people she met.  It was a weird friendship that the two of them relished in.  Evie thought of Maureen as more of an audience who lived vicariously through her stories.  It was egotistical of her, but Maureen didn’t mind.  It was nice to have one person speak to her and keep things interesting. Evie found Maureen’s knowledge of Golden Hollywood astounding… perhaps a little too good though?  They should’ve known that in this darkened place nothing so pure could withstand the corruption around them.
Angelo and the others were sitting in the library when Coco began to list off reasons why she was a sure choice for the sanctuary.
“You?” Evie scoffed. “Mr. Langdon will have to choose someone with my knowledge.  I can educate the future generation on true culture, elegance, and fashion.”
Coco scoffed at this and jerked her thumb towards Maureen, who was silently dusting.
“What about Maureen? She’s half your age, doesn’t have shriveled up ovaries, and she has all your knowledge.  She’s listened to your stories and she actually knows what you’re talking about enough to respond.  Langdon would be a fool to choose you instead of her.”
Evie gaped at Coco, but her eyes squinted at Maureen, who was now shaking her head in horror.  
“Is that what you’re trying to do?  Get all my valuable knowledge so you can go to the Sanctuary in my place?”
She advanced on Maureen, who held up her hands in surrender.
“No, no.  I swear… that’s not what I want!”
“Nana, stop!” Gallant exclaimed, trying to pull Evie away from Maureen.
“You’re not taking my spot, you bitch!”
Langdon walked in just in time to see Evie Gallant position her sharp, manicured nails as if she were a cat and swipe down Maureen’s face, leaving bloody scratches in their path. Gallant gasped in horror as the realization of what just happened dawned on everyone’s faces.  Langdon looked utterly unmoved until Maureen suddenly burst into tears of humiliation.  She pushed past Gallant and Angelo, both trying to comfort her.  In her hurry, she bumped into Langdon, who raised his eyebrows at her, showing a touch of concern.  She was held in place by his intense stare and stayed completely still as he caressed her bloody cheek.  The trance was broken as Maureen suddenly heard Gallant apologizing over and over. Maureen pushed Langdon’s hand away and continued walking back to her small, cramped dorm.
Angelo was left to comfort Gallant in his suite.
“I can’t say how sorry I am about Mo.  Nana has always been harsh, but I can’t believe she did that to her.”
Angelo rubbed Gallant’s back and shrugged.  “Mo understands.  She’s very empathetic.  Besides, it isn’t your fault.  You can’t control your grandmother.”
“I should’ve never brought her here,” Gallant said, suddenly vicious.  Angelo widened his eyes at this.  Gallant saw his expression and softened, hyper-aware of how this could change Angelo’s opinion of him.  After all, Angelo was a priest.
“God, Angelo.  I’m sorry.  Forget I said that.”
Angelo shook his head. “Don’t be.  You have a right to express your emotions.”
Gallant felt his stomach twist as Angelo smiled at him lazily.  Was it sacrilegious to fantasize about a priest?  Gallant shook his head of that thought and reminded himself that his eye was on Langdon.  After all, Angelo couldn’t grant him salvation.  Gallant flopped back onto his bed after Angelo said good night.  He was woken up by a knock on his door.  Imagine his surprise (and excitement) when Langdon stood there in a full, black rubber suit.
At the same time, Maureen was woken up by knocking.
“Angelo, I’m fine,” she called.  “Go to sleep.”
The knocking persisted, so Maureen got up, touching the scratches across her face with a grimace.
“Angelo, I—”
Maureen was cut off by her own gasp as she looked up.  Langdon was smiling down at her with an expression that was a mix of hiding concern and keeping his own pride.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” he said, hiding some sort of hurt in his tone.
“Oh, Mr. Langdon.  I’m so sorry.  I didn’t think… well… uh…”
Langdon raised an eyebrow as Maureen stammered on.
“May I come in?”
Maureen’s mind was screaming ‘No,’ but her voice squeaked out a “Yes.”  Langdon exhaled and walked in, feeling relief course through him.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he blurted out.  Maureen cringed at this and felt guilt settle in her stomach in place of fear.  How was she supposed to explain that she was just carrying out orders?  God, if Angelo found out she wasn’t even afraid of him anymore.
“No.  No, that isn’t true.”
Langdon turned and looked at Maureen’s pleading expression.  She could see something different in his eyes.  It was something emotional, something that looked to be hurt.
“But it is, Maureen.”
Maureen swallowed and looked at the ground.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said, placing an extra emphasis on ‘you.’  Maureen nodded as he walked closer to her, raising a hand and caressing her damaged cheek.  She felt the pain leave and sharply took in a breath when she looked in the mirror behind him to see that the scratches were gone.
“Thank you,” Maureen breathed out, reaching up to touch his hand.
“Do you feel anger towards the woman?  Do you feel anything negative towards her?”
Langdon looked as though he was anticipating something from her, yearning to hear her snap, finally. He wanted to know just how good she was.
“No,” Maureen admitted, truthfully.  She was an angel, after all.
Langdon widened his eyes. He could sense that this was the truth, and he knew she was just too good.  He could feel her purity and light radiating from her.  It was disgusting.  It was heavenly.
He left with no words, dragging his hand slowly out of her touch.  If she thought that encounter was strange and awkward then Gallant bragging about his wild night with Langdon was mortifying and petrifyingly awkward. Angelo was struck speechless with the description of the obscene acts, but Maureen was absolutely terrified. How could Langdon be in two places at once?  She waited until her chores were done until she tried to find Angelo, but then Angelo had to comfort a traumatized Gallant.  It wasn’t until late at night that Maureen finally got Angelo alone.
“That horrible woman reported Gallant for his night with Langdon.  He just got out of being tortured by Venable’s gang,” Angelo hissed when Maureen walked into his suite.
“That wasn’t Langdon!” Maureen exclaimed in horror.
Angelo squinted. “What are you talking about?  It had to have been him!”
Maureen shook her head. “He was with me.”
Angelo was about to speak when a man’s screaming rang through the air.  Maureen and Angelo both bolted out of the room and ran down the hallway to an open door.  Angelo and Maureen both gasped in horror when they saw Evie Gallant’s bed covered in her own blood and Gallant on top of her holding a knife.  He was even covered in blood.
“Angelo… I swear…”
Angelo shook his head slowly.  “What… happened?”
Gallant began sobbing hysterically.  “I saw Langdon in that suit again.  He was here. I meant to stab him to get him away from me, but then… it was Nana.”
Maureen and Angelo both looked at each other.
“Go get cleaned up, Mr. Gallant.  We’ll talk later,” Angelo said, mostly because he needed Maureen alone.  Gallant ran out of the room.
Angelo raised his hand and the door closed and locked with a slam.  He closed his eyes and then opened them, revealing cloudy blue instead of his normal eye color.  Evie’s body was covered in a black mist now and he clicked his tongue in annoyance. Looking over at Maureen, her eyes were the same and the dim light around her shined golden.  Angelo’s large halo was much brighter and as he shook his head, it shimmered.
“Her soul wasn’t meant for Heaven.  Satan’s underlings already claimed it,” he explained as the mist faded.
“I see,” Maureen said, nodding with a grimace.  “Angelo, do you believe Mr. Gallant?”
Angelo nodded. “Yes.  I can sense the presence of a demon.  This was definitely Langdon’s doing.  The man in the rubber suit wasn’t human.  It was a demon sent from Hell to torment the Outpost.  It’s weak, though.  I think we can easily take it down.”
Maureen blinked a few times, leaning toward Angelo.
“What?  You want us to take him down?”
Angelo nodded simply as if it were nothing to him.
“The demon is still lurking around.  If it finds out what we are, it’s over for us, Maureen.”
Maureen thought for a moment and then looked at Evie’s lifeless body.  She held her hand out over it and the blood faded away and the wounds healed.  It wasn’t enough to bring her back, but it was enough to make it look less conspicuous.
“Go tell Gallant we’ll say it’s a heart attack.  I’ll tell Venable,” Maureen said, shaking her head as the light around her dimmed and her eyes returned to normal.
“Meet me in my room. We need to summon Gabriel,” Angelo said, striding out of the room.
After cleaning up the mess and getting Venable and Mead, Maureen made her way back to Angelo’s room. He was kneeling and praying when she walked in, so she locked the door behind her and kneeled beside him, praying. A bright light appeared before them and faded. Standing before them was a tall man in a white suit, pale skin, and neatly styled pale hair.  His bright blue eyes were shining down at them.
“Hello, Gabriel,” Angelo said with a bright smile.  
Gabriel looked around with a grimace.
“Well, this place sucks.”
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comicteaparty · 5 years
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February 7th, 2019 CTP Archive
The archive for the Comic Tea Party chat that occurred on February 7th, 2019, from 5PM - 7PM PST.  The chat focused on MK’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde by Marika Kapogeorgakis (or MK_Wizard).
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Featured Comment:
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Chat:
RebelVampire
COMIC TEA PARTY- THURSDAY BOOK CLUB START!
Good evening, everyone~! This week’s Thursday Book Club is officially beginning! Today we are discussing MK’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde by Marika Kapogeorgakis (or MK_Wizard)~! (http://mksjekyllandhyde.thecomicseries.com/)
Remember that Thursday discussions are completely freeform! However, every 30 minutes I will drop in OPTIONAL discussion questions in case you’d like a bit of a prompt. If you miss out on one of these prompts, you can find them pinned for the chat’s duration. Additionally, remember that while constructive criticism is allowed, our focus is fun and respectfully appreciating the comic. All that said, let’s begin!
QUESTION 1. What is your favorite scene in the comic so far and why?
Archangel
I'd have to say the first real heart-to-heart that Hyde had with Lucy.
MK_Wizard
For me (the writer), my favourite scene was when Jekyll finally stood up for his niece Emily.
khkddn
that was one of my favorites too
MK_Wizard
PS, thanks to everyone who came. You all rock!
khkddn
it was so sad when he didn't stand up for her at first
MK_Wizard
@lomcia (princess_lom) Please don't do that.
lomcia (princess_lom)
so you want me to discrabe which one i like?
MK_Wizard
Yes please.
RebelVampire
for the record images, whether emotes or w/e, dont get archived anyway. so text and links are always better
lomcia (princess_lom)
So. I like when he said that he won't have glasses on his face. World NEVER ihere is making me laugh
MK_Wizard
Yes, but... I don't feel comfortable when people take "snaps" of my pictures and show them elsewhere. It's something I was taught not to do to others.
If you must share, please share through a link.
lomcia (princess_lom)
Act 2 page 21 when they look into a mirror xD he look so happy in first panel and then when he realised that its not him xD i love it
MK_Wizard
That was fun for me to do that part.
lomcia (princess_lom)
Act 3 page 7! When he sees our lovely Lucy
that first panel!
Archangel
I must admit to having a bit of a crush on Lucy myself.
lomcia (princess_lom)
It was perfect
MK_Wizard
I have to admit that Lucy is one of the characters I proudest of. I worked very hard on her to not only make her progressive, but also deep. I wanted to give her a reason for being as she is.
Archangel
More historically plausible in our world than you may realize, too
lomcia (princess_lom)
I prefer as a female Hyde
Archangel
lol
Actually, have we seen any lady trolls?
Can't recall
MK_Wizard
Not yet.
lomcia (princess_lom)
not yet so there will be xD
MK_Wizard
Maybe, maybe not.
lomcia (princess_lom)
I hope Albert Ode will find nice woman
RebelVampire
for me, my favorite scene is probably the one where jekyll is in the mirror having given hyde full control and resigning himself to be gone forever. and then hyde comes back and tells him nah dude well work this out. i really just loved the subtle build-up looks where hyde is looking at things like the letter jekyll was leaving and such. it was also very touching and really showed hyde's heart through all the huffing and puffing
lomcia (princess_lom)
I like him i hope he never change
Rebel that was so sad scene , so emotional!
I really enjoy as I said Albert Ode, I hope to see him more offten, hes charming
Archangel
I think somebody has her own crush.
lomcia (princess_lom)
yeah, on all trolls Albert and Hyde
MK_Wizard
I felt is was high time the world got a version of Hyde who was good and still "Hyde" enough. In every adaptation I've seen, Hyde is always bad. And the very concept Robert Louis Stevenson had on good and evil was deep at the time, but now, we know that it's not true. What I did was bold and maybe "wrong" to some people, but it's the truth.
Archangel
I like how both Doc and Hyde have a plausible and sensible mix of good and bad personal qualities. Their interplay is more akin to 'The Odd Couple" than the usual metaphors of id vs superego or drug addiction that I see in other adaptations of the story.
MK_Wizard
Ha! Well, I like to think that by troll standards, Hyde doe faced.
I did that purpose too. If we did what was expected and made Jekyll completely submit to Hyde, that would be expected and dull.
No offence to webcomic writers who take that route.
Archangel
Well, tropes can either be used to a good purpose, subverted to a good purpose, or just blindly followed.
khkddn
Robert Louis Stevenson's take wasn't true?
MK_Wizard
If anything, I can tell you all this: between the two of them, Hyde is more dependent on Jekyll than Jekyll is on Hyde.
lomcia (princess_lom)
MK I really enjoy your story, and I would love to chat more but my eyes don't listen to me :< I wish you all the best, meaby when I'll wake up I will answer for questions which people left as a feedback for you
MK_Wizard
It was true for the psychological view of human nature at the time. So he was just as right as everyone else. But now, we have come a long way with psychology.
So yes and no @khkddn
Thanks @lomcia (princess_lom)
Archangel
It's been a long time since I read the original, but I seem to recall interpreting Jeckyl as the superego and Hyde as the id
Which could be considered good and evil, respectively, in a Victorian mind? Maybe? Not really my period of history, so I don't feel comfortable being definite.
khkddn
I interpreted it as subverting what people of the time thought the "professional gentlemanly man" was supposed to be
Archangel
Hmm. I see that.
MK_Wizard
It could be interpreted many ways. That's the beauty of the original tale.
khkddn
the victorian professional gentleman was supposed to be all good and proper, but here we have this guy turning into an evil man at night
but that's pretty far removed from mk's version
MK_Wizard
Jekyll and Hyde had a lot of complex themes when it came to duality don't forget such as having dark secrets one would be very ashamed of for the Victorian age especially.
khkddn
it's a happier story for one thing. i like how your writing isn't mean-spirited mk.
like there are mean people who do terrible things, but it's never framed as a funny thing or as just something that happens in life that we can't change
RebelVampire
yes i agree, i like this is a more upbeat version. not to say sad things dont happen, but i dont get the impression that its trying to be dark and edgy just to be dark and edgy. sad things happen right when they should
MK_Wizard
I'm not into meanness. I find at one point in the media, being mean got passed off as cool. I don't like that.
mathtans
Little one is asleep in crib (again). ^^ Happening place tonight! I got as far as end of Act 5.
RebelVampire
hi math~!
MK_Wizard
Hello!
mathtans
Fave bit of what I've read was probably at the ball, when we get the extra whammy of who Emma was with. I hadn't expected that. Then when Jekyll is trying to shrug it off, Emily interjects, that was awesome. I really like Emily.
MK_Wizard
Nice to see an Emily fan. I feared people overlooked her.
Archangel
She's a keeper, for sure
I had actually forgotten about her since we haven't seen her in a while. If it's any consolation, I do that to real people too.
RebelVampire
oh really? i 100% expected emma to be with him cause the world was really intent on kicking jekyll down. what i did enjoy was her trying to put all the blame on jekyll tho. cause that is something real ppl do when they get caught as such.
mathtans
Emily is the kick in the pants that Jekyll needs sometimes. I also like Lucy for similar reasons, actually (standing up for herself, whereas with Emily it's for her uncle).
MK_Wizard
@RebelVampire Definitely. I see it happen all to often with cheaters.
mathtans
Rebel: I guess I hadn't anticipated that plot point to still be dangling. Really felt bad for Jekyll at the start on account of kicking him when he was down though, like ouch. Also, agree, it was true to form.
Archangel
The hardest thing to blame is one's self, after all
RebelVampire
i appreciated that emily didnt forgive jekyll for the tennis thing and for not standing up for her. cause that was a point where i was glad she was gonna stop being an enabler of jekyll's flaws in a more slap in the face wake up call kind of way
mathtans
Like, talking could still be a thing. I know that sometimes people avoid, but when you're proposed to, I think that's the time to talk.
MK_Wizard
In Emily's defence, what Jekyll did was cowardly and hurtful.
Archangel
Def
mathtans
Rebel: Yeah, I'm kind of in the middle of that now, but that hurt. Since she was always standing up for him.
MK_Wizard
And don't forget. Emily's a teenager. She will have teen moments.
Archangel
He did correct his mistake and learn from it. Credit where it's due.
mathtans
Oooh, spoilers. (j/k)
Archangel
Oh right, sorry
hehe
mathtans
Heh, it's cool, talk about all the stuff. I do this every week, and never manage to clear the archive half the time.
RebelVampire
QUESTION 2. Two major themes of the comic are what it means to be a better person in the face of personal flaws and how one might learn to be better. Insofar, what has been your favorite moment of growth for any of the characters showcased in the comic? What about this moment struck you as particularly strong? In the larger picture, do you think Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde really will continue to help each other to grow? Further, in what ways do you think the two characters can grow further as people? Alternatively, might the two reach a limit where they are no longer able to help each other in this manner? What flaws might both still continue to deal with long term? Overall, how do you think these changes will affect how both characters deal with life, and what can we personally learn from it as readers?
MK_Wizard
I'm afraid there's no way I can answer this without giving things away
Archangel
Good God, where to start. Give me a minute.
mathtans
It's kind of interesting, because Hyde never even had a memory before the transformation. So in some sense, he's a blank slate, and thus everything is growth.
In the beginning, Hyde was doing it for himself, but he inadvertantly helped people. Some part of him must have liked that, because now he does it to help and fight against the system.
Archangel
Okay, so obviously each of our protagonists has a massive, salient character flaw that comes out fairly early on. Jeckyl is too afraid of confrontation, and would rather get shafted than make a scene. Meanwhile Hyde, as @mathtans noted, is very self-centered--in rather a childish way, which makes sense in the context that Mat noted.
Each is well-placed to advise the other and point out that he's being a tool and why.
And -- very importantly -- they can't ignore each other
While each man is far from perfect, we're already seeing them improve in the face of the other's prodding, and finding themselves happier for it
mathtans
They have much to "reflect" on.
Archangel
/facedesk
Bravo, sir
Now I have to wipe soda off my monitor
MK_Wizard
I don't deny that there are tons of metaphors and symbolism in my story.
khkddn
there were earlier times when jekyll became more of a courageous person but i liked in act 8 when lanyon showed up at his door pretending to be friendly and jekyll is not having ANY of it
RebelVampire
be careful with that soda cause math is here to be the pun master
Archangel
Noted
Anyway, to @khkddn 's point, I wonder if it's because it was just the two of them? Maybe J's problem is more social anxiety? Interesting thought.
RebelVampire
yeah seeing jekyll just being like nope was a really satisfying in that moment. like seeing your little boy suddenly grow up.
MK_Wizard
It's a lot of things and it's complex which will be explained more and more as the story goes on.
RebelVampire
my favorite moment of growth is actually when hyde apologizes to lucy. because apologies are legit one of the hardest things to do i think for ppl. because thats a lot of stabbing for the personal ego, and the more prideful, the harder it is. so heres hyde, probably one of the most prideful ppl in the comic, admitting that he said some messed up shit and screwed up. that was a beautiful moment cause taking that many stabs to his ego was a showcase of how far hed come that hed go through such a grand gesture and damage his pride.
mathtans
Hyde also really has no filter when he's talking, while Jekyll has like, massive overthinking of everything before he speaks. It's a live-in-the-moment attitude versus thinking about the future. So if there is a "limit" where they can't help each other, I imagine Jekyll would see it coming.
MK_Wizard
They are opposites @mathtans
mathtans
True. I guess I'm saying that's conveyed well.
Archangel
@RebelVampire it also shows just how deeply Hyde cares for Lucy, that he's willing to basically abase himself like that.
khkddn
i agree w @RebelVampire about that scene, it shows that even if hyde is an opposite to jekyll personality wise, he isn't morally opposite and can be a good person who admits mistakes
mathtans
Speaking of opposites, here's a fun thing I realized. Jekyll loses his job, and his girl, and we feel badly for him. That thug guy Tom ALSO loses his "job" and his "girl" (if shaking down stores can be a job), but because he's on the wrong side of the law (and a jerk), we don't feel badly for him.
Archangel
Well, neither of their flaws are really things that need to be completely removed. They just need to be moderated. Hyde needs to learn a bit of impulse control, and Jeckyl needs to learn to loosen up a bit.
mathtans
Yeah, "Tom" might be the moral opposite.
Archangel
But neither of their attitudes towards life are bad per se, so long as they're not taken to extremes... as they have been doing
Huh, interesting
Or perhaps "there but for the grace of God go I" type of thing?
MK_Wizard
@mathtans Tom is a bad person. Do you all remember how he hit Lucy? Imagine how much worse it would have been if Hyde wasn't there.
RebelVampire
yeah im really interested to see if jekyll's biggest challenge in growing is moderation. cause i didnt entirely disagree with him in certain contexts. like at the party, i was kind of on his side that sometimes just letting things go is better and that theres a time and place for certain...coversations as it were.
Archangel
I'm amazed Lucy doesn't carry a knife or something. Most prostitutes in cities carry something for self-defense (if they're smart), and the habit would likely carry over into working at a bar. Plus Victorian ladies' clothes are REALLY good for concealing weapons. You have to see it to believe it
mathtans
Yeah, jerk as I indicated. Just, similar stuff happened to him. Just thought it was interesting. He's more evil than Hyde is, for sure.
Archangel
Oh absolutely
khkddn
tom doesnt have a cool top hat like hyde and that's why i'll never root for him even if he weren't a bad person(edited)
MK_Wizard
@Archangel Lucy does own a knife, but she knows Tom would have overpowered her.
Archangel
If she'd given him a chance. But I see your point.
The hardest part of hurting or killing someone is actually deciding to do so.
Damaging somebody is terrifyingly easy... if you can bring yourself to do it.
Anyway. off topic.
MK_Wizard
There's a reason she has scars. Like Lucy said, her getting slapped wasn't the worst assault a man had ever done on her. She is brave and tough, but she's not super strong. Lots of men can overpower her and have, but she's not prostitute. She's a waitress, but she is poor so that still makes her an easy target.
Archangel
She started out as a sex worker, though, right? Or am I misremembering.
mathtans
Again, to be clear, I don't think anyone should root for Tom. Just, he had similar stuff happen and approached things in a way that neither Jekyll nor Hyde would. (Very wrongly.)
khkddn
lucy would also need an exit strategy if she used the knife on tom. she would probably have to run away and lay low, which could be more dangerous than staying with him.
mathtans
Lucy is kickass. I liked her remark of an apology shouldn't have a "but".
MK_Wizard
She was a showgirl and eventually had to sort of become a prostitute, but she isn't one anymore.
Archangel
Very true, hadn't thought that through
Seebee
is here to show support
Woo, go MK
Archangel
lol
MK_Wizard
Hey Seebee!
Seebee
Yoooo~
MK_Wizard
Glad you could join us.
You rock!
Seebee
GASP, I'MMA ROCK?!
looks at self
no wonder I got craters on my skiiiin
Archangel
Hope you're a pet rock. Then you get a nice box with straw and everything
MK_Wizard
Just because Lucy is no muscle woman doesn't mean she's a pushover. And now that she doesn't have to submit to people to make a living, she sure as heck never does.
RebelVampire
yeah i think that was a great line, @mathtans cause its really such a simplistic but smart way of weeding a good apology from a bad apology
MK_Wizard
Her having her body belong to herself again is something that is very precious to her.
Archangel
Understandably
Not many people could have gone through as much bad as Lucy has and come out walking erect, as the saying goes. I think that's why admire her so much. I don't think I could ever be that strong.
mathtans
(I'm continuing my read in the background, btw. The April Fools strip with the green hair is a riot. Speaking of bodies belonging to other people.)
khkddn
yeah lucy is one of my favorite characters, she's cool
MK_Wizard
She had to be. No one else was there for her. Back in the day, being of mixed ethnicity was a taboo.
That was the reason she had it rough. It's not right, but... it was not uncommon.
khkddn
if a random person during the time saw lucy would they assume she is mixed? or does she pass as not being mixed?
i'm wondering if this would change how she is treated
Archangel
Speaking for the USA, it depended entirely on the place and the person's specific appearance
But rarely would it be ignored
MK_Wizard
Ha. Well.... she's a cartoon, but if she were real, yes. You would tell because her skin is a bit too dark, she has the eyes and lips, as well as the physique.
mathtans
Just an aside on the topic of cartoons, I feel like it takes a while to draw the hairdos. ^^
MK_Wizard
She can't pass off not being mixed. She's one of those very obvious cases.
Oh ho ho ho. Jekyll's hair IS tedious to draw, but it's worth it because it makes him stand out.
Archangel
Also, her hair isn't right. One of the more dominant traits of African heritage is the way hair behaves--very bristly and stand-outy (I don't know the right word). To get it to flow like Lucy's does, one needs a good deal of product every morning. Or so a friend told me once.
mathtans
Well done, MK. Also for having Emily's be similar, what with the family resemblance.
MK_Wizard
Thanks
RebelVampire
QUESTION 3. In the current story, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde have become aware of a mysterious alchemist causing trouble. Who exactly is this mysterious alchemist? Why is this alchemist helping Governor Carew? Exactly what do you think this project is that the board of governors is looking to fund by using the alchemist’s talents? Do you think Mr. Hyde’s previous actions will put the board on extra alert for their investigations? How might this affect Mr. Hyde and Dr. Jekyll’s success in stopping Carew’s villainy, if so? Alternatively, how might the various things the alchemist is able to do (like create gold) change the characters’ views on how the world works? All in all, how do you feel this arc of cases will wind up be solved (or go unsolved)?
Archangel
I do know that one of the standard "tests" of somebody's background back in the bad old days was to look at their hair, precisely because this trait is so dominant.
mathtans
Well, I'm obviously not there yet, but I feel like this was set up very well with the mercury poisoning stuff happening in the background of what I have read.
Archangel
Well, creating gold is always a bad idea when the economy is based on gold. Every mage's guild I've ever seen in any universe has a big fat rule against it
MK_Wizard
In Lucy's case, it's her skin, eyes and lips. Plus, her body type as she got older. Don't forget, coloured people go far beyond the hair and skin.
But back to the subject, it was explicitly stated that making your own gold is 100% illegal.
Archangel
So they have to be either utterly stupid or they don't care about devaluing the currency. Not something for men of means (and thus knowledge of at least some finance and economics) to take lightly
My bad, but my second point stands re: their scheme with the unfortunate chickens
RebelVampire
youre making a huge assumption they understand how the economy works. XD i dont get the impression most of the men of means care, as long as they get theirs and get to have their fancy stuff.
MK_Wizard
Plus, the board of governors have a lot of influence.
mathtans
What about making gold for someone else?
Archangel
I'd like to argue with you, RV, but I can't.
Presumably charged as an accessory, @mathtans
MK_Wizard
@Seebee, you got anything to add to this?
Archangel
Given that we're talking chemistry, though, the other classic thing that comes up aside from gold is some sort of immortality potion. I don't recall any hints to that effect, though.
mathtans
"You made a gold chain for my locket?" "Yes, now it's an accessory."
Seebee
Hmmm... not at the moment
I will be honest, I am ded inside from being out all day))
mathtans
I'm reminded of how Jekyll's first attempts at his formula involved trying almost all elements on the periodic table. He must have certain resources that might be helpful for going after an alchemist.
MK_Wizard
That and Jekyll has the most valuable resource of all: his own genius
Archangel
Mmm. He can certainly analyze any samples or whatnot that Hyde acquires.
RebelVampire
maybe thatll be the next arc, where theyre trying to find an immortality potion.
khkddn
i imagine the alchemist is helping governor carew because he's deeply involved w the plan somehow. it'd be weird if he were just a hired alchemist, because, what're they gonna pay him in? gold?? couldn't he just make the gold himself
Archangel
Perhaps the deal is that they'll put him beyond the law
So he can actually get away with it
No point to crime if you can't enjoy the result
MK_Wizard
It's definitely something big and it also shows how heinous the board of governors really are.
RebelVampire
i kind of think the previous arc has made it more difficult though. cause if i was on the board, i would def be on high alert. all it takes is one guy saying "hey i saw hyde snooping around stopping our gold operation"
MK_Wizard
Actually, nobody can say or do anything.
The alchemist burnt the evidence and place to the ground.
mathtans
Everything probably points back to Carew. That guy is shady as anything. (Incidentally, good job emphasizing his character with that statue debacle near the start. Not a nice man.)
RebelVampire
i can only think the alchemist is in it for the secret project. cause i agree with khkddn, its not like the alchemist needs gold
Archangel
I don't think we've seen any bent cops to this point, which means that the Governors either need enough evidence to fool honest cops (not so easy to fake), or to keep mum
MK_Wizard
It's a bit of both. Not enough evidence and some cops are crooked much to Sgt. Drumwell's dismay.
Archangel
There's always a few, and they always get promoted. >_<
Kei Esteban
Hello! Sorry I'm Late!
MK_Wizard
It's cool!
Archangel
*Hi ho
khkddn
heya
Kei Esteban
Thanks
RebelVampire
tbf its not like these are modern csi times. so theres only so many ways they can analyze evidence in the first place
MK_Wizard
Exactly
khkddn
do they even have fingerprint technology at this point?
Archangel
The techniques were fully established by that point, but not so widely accepted
MK_Wizard
They do have a way of detecting fingerprints, but fire destroys everything.
mathtans
Gotta make themselves a time machine.
Archangel
Wiki "Henry Classification System" sometime for an interesting insight into pre-fingerprint policing
khkddn
ah well to get anything out of ashes i think they would need chemical analysis that doesn't exist yet. it'd prolly be faster to build a time machine yep
Archangel
The problem with fire is that it alters the chemical composition of everything
MK_Wizard
Exactly. The alchemist knew precisely what he was doing.
Archangel
So unless you have research data, it's pretty much impossible to ID the source substances.
khkddn
they need chemical analysis that doesn't even exist in OUR time yet
Archangel
Well, the good guys do have a genius (al)chemist on their side...
Speaking of, @MK_Wizard , is there an actual technical distinction between chemistry and alchemy, or is it just po-tay-to/po-tah-to?
mathtans
Maybe someone will Hyde the evidence.
MK_Wizard
Yes and no.
khkddn
if only the chickens could speak english. then the truth would be out there
MK_Wizard
To explain, alchemy has some spirituality and magical properties behind it. Basically, it was the stepping stone to chemistry. People discovered that magic did have a science behind it and upon further research, people discovered that magic had a direct link to nature.
khkddn
i have to work on a school project and this is distracting me way too much so i'm gonna go. it's been fun chatting!
Archangel
glhf
MK_Wizard
With that, human beings who have no magic invented a way to "use magic" without having any themselves. Alchemy. They would use ways of manipulating nature in supernatural ways and through that, they discovered how to make chemicals and made other marvels through science.
@khkddn thanks for joining us
Of course, it wasn't just humans who used magic. Other races did too.
Kei Esteban
Ah, Other than Trolls and Humans, do you have any interest in having other Races show up?
mathtans
Interesting bringing that up, what with trolls being a thing common enough to be known with police. I wondered too.(edited)
MK_Wizard
Definitely. In fact, you already saw two and didn't know it.
Remember the short guy Biggs? He's a gnome.
Archangel
Oh cool
Kei Esteban
Ah Neat ^_^
Archangel
I still say he needs a buddy named Wedge
Kei Esteban
XD
RebelVampire
thats interesting. cause i was curious why everyone was like shrugging to the presence of trolls
XD
MK_Wizard
The other one is Tyler the redhead, but what HE is... you're going to see
mathtans
Now I'm picturing Biggs renting himself out to stand in gardens during the day.
Archangel
"If I parked a tank outside your office, after a week it would be just another car." --one of my vet buddies
Kei Esteban
I look forward to finding out ^_^
Archangel
(as in my buddy who's a vet. I was never in the Service)
Also, London in our world is one of the most metropolitan environments on earth. I bet it's the same in the story.
MK_Wizard
Most definitely,
mathtans
I now kind of wonder about interracial breeding.
MK_Wizard
It's like the "New York" of Europe in my comic. You'll find anyone there.
Archangel
Just like in real life
MK_Wizard
You've seen it already. Sgt. Drumwell is half troll and half human.
mathtans
Like, troll and human must be a thing given how Hyde and Lucy.... oh, yeah? Hummmm.
MK_Wizard
Hence his human appearance, but he has yellow fangs and his eyes.
Kei Esteban
Settings like that are always nice too see
MK_Wizard
It's also why he's compassionate. He was lucky because his parents were very wealthy so their money protected them. Plus, he passes off as a human mostly, but his eyes, teeth and height give him away.
Archangel
Well, it's for MK to say for sure, but one of the definitions of separate species is the inability to interbreed. There are exceptions, but that's the general rule. It would be interesting to see Hyde and Lucy have little ones, though. In due course.
Kei Esteban
indeed
RebelVampire
are laws applied equally or is there inequality as far as different species go? like is there special laws that only exist for trolls, etc.?
mathtans
Actually, Sgt Drumwell is their child. Eventually Jekyll perfects the time machine and sends him back.
MK_Wizard
lol no
Archangel
lmao
MK_Wizard
Here's how it works. It's generally a taboo socially, but if you're very rich, you can get away with a lot. You just won't be respected for it.
For example... there's another non-human you saw without knowing it. Utterson's redheaded wife Camilla. She's a wizard.
AND he married her without making her convert to his faith/human lifestyle. He allows her to continue living openly as a wizard and practicing her culture.
Archangel
Fascinating. And again, makes sense that people would regard sentient species the way they regarded other races at the time.
Kei Esteban
Well he is a Great guy, so that's not too surprising he would be respectful of her completely
MK_Wizard
Her hair was also an Easter Egg to her race. In old lore, red heads were often thought to be witches.
RebelVampire
QUESTION 4. Despite working together, Mr. Hyde and Dr. Jekyll still argue quite often and risk their own safety a lot. How might their shared injury and pain help or hurt their ability to function in their own daily lives in the future? Do you believe that at some point the two’s shared identity of sorts will be revealed? If so, how do you envision this coming about? Given the growing relationship between Mr. Hyde and Lucy, will Mr. Hyde be compelled to tell her at some point? What about Dr. Jekyll with his niece and nephew? Do you think the two’s shared arrangement with the body will work long term, or will they at some point need to make alterations to their living situation? Ultimately, how do you feel their living arrangement will affect their future adventures, whatever you think those future adventures might be?
Kei Esteban
@MK_Wizard Oh no! They are on too me! (I'm a Red head XD)(edited)
MK_Wizard
Ok, for this... I leave entirely up to all of you. So... bring on the fan theories!
Archangel
Let's see. Well, Lucy absolutely has a right to know. How she'll react, I have no idea.
As to Emily & Will... I think Emily should be briefed in, if only so she won't freak out if Hyde has to come get them to prevent a kidnapping or something by the opposition.
MK_Wizard
Keep in mind. Nobody knows yet.
Nobody except Louis and he's not talking.
Archangel
Right. I think Lucy can keep a secret. Emily... honestly don't know her well enough to say.
RebelVampire
yeah i think as far as a long term arrangement, its not gonna work. because assuming hyde wants to marry lucy at some point, thatd be problematic. even worse, what if jekyll meets somebody. they are fooling themselves if they think this can work out indefinitely. so jekyll is gonna need to put that genius to work.
Kei Esteban
I think it would be best in the long run for those closest to them to know. Lucy and Emily would be a great start indeed
Archangel
Knowledge of the situation would be all that Carew & Lanyon need to discredit anything Jeckyl says, ever, so it certainly can't become public knowledge.
MK_Wizard
Lanyon is out of the picture for good. It's the one thing I can confirm. He's defeated for good.
Archangel
Yay!
He was a good bad guy, though
Kei Esteban
I love how he effectively defeated himself! XD
MK_Wizard
That was the point. And it was also karma. Lanyon got successful by riding on Jekyll's tail and taking everything that was his.
In the end, doing this was his undoing.
Sure he didn't have Jekyll's money to do stuff, but it didn't make being a skunk ok especially because Jekyll really did see him as a friend and would have hlped him.
Kei Esteban
It was such a Creative way to end the conflict ^_^
Archangel
I don't think he'd believe you if you'd told him that to his face. People like that seem to get that way because they assume that everybody's out to get everybody. At least in my (blessedly limited) contact with the species.
Kei Esteban
That's an unfortunate way to look at the world. By that i mean the "everybody out to get everybody" bit.(edited)
MK_Wizard
I wanted to show that there are good and bad people from every social standing.
Basically, different kinds of good and bad people.
mathtans
Back. (Had to see to the little one briefly.)
MK_Wizard
Aww
mathtans
In terms of people knowing, would they believe without seeing the transformation?
Archangel
Good question
MK_Wizard
Would you? I don't think so.
mathtans
It's not like people have iPhones to video record it.
Archangel
That might help them keep the secret
mathtans
I mean, there's the argument of they haven't been in the same room together.
RebelVampire
nah i highly doubt it. in fact, far more likely the person claiming this is a thing that happened would get sent to an asylum
MK_Wizard
Yeah, but... who would believe the two share a body that transforms without seeing it?
mathtans
Though I agree with Rebel that they'll need to figure something out so that relationship things don't become an issue.
Someone with MPD?
MK_Wizard
Not talking (teasing)
I will share one tidbit... At the end of the true end of the story, there will be no loose ends.
For anything. And that is all.
mathtans
Just got to the bit with Lanyon, btw, that you were referencing earlier. That was very clever, coming full circle, and good final shot of him in the mirror.
RebelVampire
actually ya know tbf, didnt louis take some of the potion. you could use louis to show its a real thing
in the sense of the transformation
mathtans
Crazy theory time: Jekyll figures out how to shift Hyde to share a body with someone else instead. Hyde and Lucy decide to become "one", and ride off into the sunset.
MK_Wizard
I will say this now... no.
That sounds romantic on paper, but that would actually be bad.
Because how would they be a couple?
mathtans
Kissing mirrors.
Archangel
That'd make it like that one movie where the knight and the lady each shapeshift, but they alternate states at dawn and can never be together. That was one weird movie.
Good curse, though
MK_Wizard
That sounds like the worst kind of hell for two people deeply in love. To be so close, yet completely separate.
Kei Esteban
@MK_Wizard like Garnet, from Steven Universe? XD
Archangel
Actually, what Mat describes would be a truly horrible curse for a couple. I might use that someday.
MK_Wizard
Garnet is not Ruby and Sapphie per se. She is the embodiment of their love.
mathtans
Yeah, you're not wrong. Okay, so Hyde and Poole...?
Archangel
Poole's not getting any younger
What happens when one half dies?
MK_Wizard
They both die.
Kei Esteban
@MK_Wizard Very True (I guess we can't use Gem logic here)(edited)
mathtans
Yeah, I think that was stated. When they hurt, the other hurts too.
RebelVampire
yeah i feel the fact they share pain and death is gonna be weaponized against them. cause if i needed to get rid of hyde, id go for jekyll if i knew that fact. cause whats jekyll gonna do? slap me a little?
Kei Esteban
then how about Hyde and Carew? (Hyde just takes over full time)
MK_Wizard
You all really hit the nail on the head that them sharing a body, but not lives and such is going to become a challenge.
Archangel
Good point. Though you'd have to bump Jeckyl right away rather than keeping him around. Come sunset...
mathtans
Just to talk about Emily again (because she's cool), I feel like she'd understand, if the truth came out. Though I wonder if she'd be hurt that Jekyll didn't say anything sooner.
Archangel
Ooo, I like Kei's idea. Not sure it works that way, though.
MK_Wizard
And I will disprove the theory now.... Hyde and Jekyll cannot suddenly be shifted to another person. Neither soul is a "disease" you can hand onto someone else.
Archangel
@mathtans I agree. My concern would be whether she can keep a secret. She is a teenage girl, after all.
MK_Wizard
They are a person.
Archangel
And keeping a cool secret is hard at any age
MK_Wizard
They are two people.
Kei Esteban
indeed
mathtans
Archangel: She's pretty mature for her age though. Granted, she's also pretty outspoken. I don't think she'd say anything intentionally, but it might come out in the heart of the moment or something. (Which is maybe why she could accept not having been told.)
RebelVampire
i think emily could keep a secret. now will on the otherhand
MK_Wizard
So all theories of them being put onto someone else will not come to pass because that's impossible.
RebelVampire
will i would believe couldnt keep a secret cause hes even younger(edited)
Archangel
Perhaps with the materials to 'construct' a new body, and the proper spellwork, each can be embodied separately? Sort of a siamese twin operation?
Will is right out at his age.
Kei Esteban
Will being a kid, might even think it's cool (Which he would be right)(edited)
mathtans
So maybe one of them decides to sacrifice themselves for the good of the two of them. Jekyll already tried that once.
MK_Wizard
I won't say much about who can keep a secret, but in my experience, it goes with personality not age.
Archangel
I will say that almost nobody under the age of 10 can keep a secret in my experience. But aside from that, agreed.
mathtans
Yeah, I'm pretty sure Nellie couldn't keep a secret.
MK_Wizard
You've also seen that Hyde would never have that. He's not an active killer. And he loves Jekyll as a brother. He wouldn't kill him if he asked him to.
And taking over essentially does that.
Archangel
I'm not sure Nellie's bright enough to grasp the core concept XD
Kei Esteban
XD
Archangel
Here's a really trippy question, MK: do J&D have separate souls, or do they share one?
mathtans
(And I had to go to the cast page to look up the name, and now I see how "half troll" is right there in Drumwell's bio, nice.)
MK_Wizard
They have separate souls.
Archangel
Obviously their minds are separate, but I'm questioning their spiritual state in the technical sense
Okay, so it's reasonable to theorize that they could be separated and embodied separately. It would certainly take high magic, though.
MK_Wizard
The Hyde Formula has magical properties. For example, did you know that in reincarnation, the soul splits? Hence why some people who get reincarnated can be reincarnated as multiple people.
Archangel
I've never heard that.
mathtans
Well, if the original intention was a sort of "Disney" Jekyll and Hyde, maybe there will be a Disney ending? Somehow?
Archangel
Pillars of Eternity has this whole thing about souls fragmenting, but that's more like chips off a rock over time.
MK_Wizard
In the case of Jekyll and Hyde, Hyde came from a piece of Jekyll's own soul, but it became its own unique being.
Yes, You got it!
Archangel
Makes sense.
MK_Wizard
Keep in mind, even Disney endings aren't always perfect.
RebelVampire
the disney ending will be hyde and lucy riding off in a carriage with the just got married sign and jekyll will come to cause they decided to just make it a threesome
although that joke aside i wonder if jekyll and lucy will ever interact
MK_Wizard
Uh, no lol
Lucy is not Jekyll's type and Hyde would not share his woman with anyone.
Nor would Jekyll do that.
Jekyll is as monogamous as they come lol.
mathtans
Hmmm, and is it too late to ship Lucy and Emma?
Archangel
RV is right insofar as it would be interesting to see how Jeckyl and Lucy get along socially. I imagine that after some initial sounding out, they'll manage well enough. After all, Lucy is a lady and Jeckyl is a gentleman. That goes a long way.
lmao
Kei Esteban
It would be nice to see Jekyll meet someone new, that is actually good for him
Archangel
^
MK_Wizard
@mathtans That ship is solely wish fulfilment and a fan fantasy.
RebelVampire
i more wonder the social interaction cause that could make hyde jealous. if jekyll and lucy got along even if it was totally platonic
Archangel
Actually, someone like Emily would be very good for Jeckyl... in the sense of personality, not age.
mathtans
(I always ship the ladies... ) And actually, the thought that it's a fan fantasy already amuses me.
Archangel
Cue the "I ship it, I don't care" song
MK_Wizard
I made this comic knowing people would do ships if the comic caught on. All I say is that, as long as you accept that it is not the official storyline.
mathtans
Maybe Jekyll can be the best man at the Hyde/Lucy wedding?
Archangel
Only if Poole is the Father of the Bride
Otherwise J would slide down to second place IMO
mathtans
What's official is definitely up to the author. All the best with it! It's an interesting take.
MK_Wizard
Thanks
RebelVampire
COMIC TEA PARTY- THURSDAY BOOK CLUB END!
Sadly, this wraps up this week’s Thursday Book Club chat for now. Thank you so much to everyone for reading and joining us! We want to give a special thank you to Marika Kapogeorgakis (or MK_Wizard), as well, for making MK’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde. If you liked the comic, make sure to support Marika Kapogeorgakis (or MK_Wizard)’s efforts however you’re able to~!
Read and Comment: http://mksjekyllandhyde.thecomicseries.com/
Marika’s Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/MK_Wizard
Marika’s Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/mkwizard
Marika’s Storenvy: https://mkomics.storenvy.com/
Marika’s Gumroad: https://gumroad.com/MK_Wizard
Marika’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/MKJekyllAndHyde
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Moon neglected and beat his own children. How did it affect them?
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Hyo Jin Moon: “I know my Father. He made me, so we are just like each other. We can kill one another.”  
At Pledge Service, November 1994 at Belvedere (video link below)
Shamanism in the Unification Church While church members generally consider themselves to be Christian, the church’s rituals and practices share much with Korean shamanism. Practices such as ancestor veneration / liberation from evil spirits, spiritual channeling, sacrifices, songs, drumming, rhythmic movements and beatings are all common in Korean shamanism and culture.
The Master Speaks These questions and answers have been transcribed from tapes made during our Leader’s sessions with members and guests at Centers throughout the United States during his trip in March and April 1965.
Question: Should we keep our physical children with us?
Sun Myung Moon: Yes, of course. You cannot leave them on the street. You must protect them. If they do not obey you, you can even strike them. In the satanic world, if you beat children it is from your temper and is sin. But now you know the absolute good, and if they do not obey you can bring them by force. It will be good for them after all. In our group, some people have neglected their children and devoted themselves completely to witnessing. This has happened because, if you are not restored, your children will perish automatically. If you don’t find three spiritual children, how can your physical children benefit? In that sense, your problem is more urgent. For this reason, some parents have neglected their children. After they are blessed they ... and take them back.
Sun Myung Moon: “From today on, if you meet anybody around you who criticizes or judges True Family because of what is happening right now, you can hit them in the mouth. If anyone writes a wrong letter to True Family you can break their arm.”  February 24, 1996, Sao Paolo, Brazil
Sun Myung Moon: “Your mission is only the territory of your relatives. How much easier it is for you compared to True Father’s course. You have absolutely no excuse. Those who have the confidence to fulfill your mission of accomplishing 3.6 [million] couples Blessing this year, show your hands. (Applause) Father wants Reverend Kwak to keep a baseball bat in his hand all the time and if he sees anyone neglecting their mission in this regard then he can freely use it. Particularly those who are sleeping and hiding, Reverend Kwak’s baseball bat will fall upon you at any time.”  February 13, 1997, New Yorker Hotel, New York
Hyun Jin Preston Moon interviewed in September 2010
Question: Do you have any episodes you remember while fishing with your father? Preston: “When I was a teenager, I remember fishing with my father one day on the cold Alaskan sea. I was in an accident. While my father was focused on fishing with other people at the stern of a small boat, I was fishing at the front of the boat and fell into the sea. The water temperature of the Alaskan sea is so cold that most people die from a heart attack after about 15 minutes in the water. But nobody noticed that I had fallen overboard! I tied the thick fishing line used for catching King Salmons around my arm and desperately moved toward the boat, barely surviving. At that time, my father continued fishing without batting an eye. I was shivering with cold but he kept me with him for the rest of the fishing trip and then we returned back to the harbor.”
Question: He was very strict in how he raised you. Preston: “(Laughter) Such training from my father made me who I am today. My father wanted his children to become better than him and wanted them to grow through challenges.”Trained during his youth on the rough sea, today when Hyun Jin Moon goes to the Alaska mountains to hunt, he will stay there for one or two weeks. Sometimes the guide becomes exhausted and goes back early. In the deep mountains, after hitting the target, he skins the animal himself, carves the meat and puts it all into his backpack. Then with a heavy load, he gladly completes the tough journey back that could cover several miles.”
Hyung Jin Sean Moon: “You know Father, he would slap me. Not only slap, he would smack me every day. Punch me. You know, he would smack these guys all the time. You know, and these guys took it every day… These guys have to be like ironman, they have to be superhuman, iron butt training. So don’t criticize them so quickly and easily. That’s not a sign of maturity… I saw them get smacked so many times… We got the most beatings.”  September 23, 2012, New York
In Jin Tatiana Moon (extract from Nansook Hong’s book, In The Shadow Of The Moons: My Life In The Reverend Sun Myung Moon’s Family, page 101) “In Jin disapproved of my friendship with her sister [Un Jin] but she could be nice to me herself when it suited her purpose. She came to me once, asking to borrow some clothes so she could sneak out that night. Her own room was next to her parents’ suite in the mansion and she did not want to risk running into Father. Why not? I asked. She told me that recently she had come into her room on tiptoe about 4:00 A.M. It was still dark. She thought she was in the clear, when she saw Father’s shadow in a chair across the room.
As Sun Myung Moon struck her over and over again, his daughter told me, he insisted he was hitting her out of love. It was not her first beating at Father’s hands. She said she wished she had the courage to go to the police and have Sun Myung Moon arrested for child abuse. I lent her my best blue jeans and a white angora sweater and tried to hide how shocked I was by her story.
As much as anything about my new life in the True Family, the antipathy between the Moon children and their parents stunned me. Early on, I was disabused of the idea that this was a warm and loving family.”
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In Jin Tatiana Moon spoke in 2014: 5:15 “So …as angry as my father was for the first ten years that I lived up in Boston. He would scream at me for 3 or 4 hours every time I came back home to wish him happy birthday, or to wish him happy God’s Day. You know, Father was extremely angry.  In a way I am hoping that my marriage, and the dissolution of my marriage thereafter, can be a good example of what not to do to our kids, and what not to do to the future blessed couples that aren’t …
“Forcing people into marriage is not right. Political marriages is not right, you know. What I’ve been pushed to do which is really simply nothing other than institutional rape is not right. With two people standing outside your door because they’re afraid you’re going to run away. That is not right. And not wanting to deal with the consequences of your actions of forcing two people into marriage is not right. And not having support and not being nurturing while your child is trying to deal with what you crammed down their throat is not right either…
7:00 “Shocking as it was for my mother to hear my story, the last 30 years of marriage which I have never spoken to her about. You know, she had to learn too. A lot of people think that, well In Jin was just acting on her own behalf and she is just doing whatever she wants. No, I am not doing whatever I want…”  LINK
In the early 1980’s there was a gym at East Garden where a martial arts expert came to teach karate to the older sons. One day Hak Ja Han came there when Heung Jin, Kook Jin and Hyun Jin were training. She said “Let two of them fight until they are bloody.” The martial arts teacher was not happy about this and resigned shortly afterwards.
Nansook Hong and Un Jin Moon were both beaten by their husbands: VIDEO of them being interviewed on ‘60 Minutes’ Mike Wallace: “Whenever she told Rev. and Mrs Moon about the beatings, Nansook says, they blamed her.” Nansook Hong: “I was not ideal wife for Hyo Jin that is why he would behave in a certain way towards me, and I was not a good member of their family… so also it was my fate…” MW: “Who told you that? Mrs Moon or …” NSH: “Both, both of them, yes. And it was my fate that I have to endure these things.” Un Jin Moon: “Sounds familiar” MW: “Nansook is getting support from a surprising source, one of Rev. Moon’s daughters, Un Jin Moon. She told me her parents blamed her too when she was abused by her husband [Jin-hun Park, son of ‘Tiger’ Park]. MW: Did he beat you?” UJM: “Yes” MW: “And you would tell your folks?” UJM: “Yes” MW: “And they would say…” UJM: “I deserved it” MW: “Un Jin Moon is estranged from her parents, but she has never criticized them in public before. …” [Apparently Jin-hun Park used to drink.]
Nansook Hong: “Sun Myung Moon seemed to take pleasure in the reports that filtered back to East Garden of the beatings being administered by the Black Heung Jin. He would laugh raucously if someone out of favor had been dealt an especially hard blow.” (pages 150-153)
MLP: “Having grown up around them, I can confirm that when the Moons wanted something, it was there. Thus, they learned to take and only to take. They learned to brow beat, insult, demean and ultimately to physically intimidate those around them. But they never learned to give and never learned basic empathy for those that provided them all their untold wealth.”
Sam Park: “My mother’s involvement with Rev. Moon started in 1953 when, at the age of 17 years old, he forced himself upon her and took her virginity. At the time [pause] my father said that because my mother was destined to be his eternal bride or the “True Mother” in UC parlance, he had to have sexual relations with her to reverse what the … Forgive me because I am going to bring up UC / Moonie terms. Some of you might know it if you follow the church, but a lot of you won’t – just indulge me because there are a lot of Unificationists out there who may see this and it will probably help them. My father said to my mother that – he basically raped her – that he had to have sexual relations with her to reverse what the Archangel Lucifer did to the young Eve. Rev. Moon taught that the biblical Eve was seduced by the Archangel Lucifer when she was 17 years old which was the real reason for the Fall of Man as described in the Bible. That is how Moonies think about the Fall of Man.” LINK
It has been rumored that Won-pil Kim was beaten up by Sun Myung Moon and hospitalized… Moon was rumored to have used a baseball bat at leader’s meetings at East Garden and in Korea. There are rumors of Moon violence at meetings in Alaska. There are many witnesses, but they are keeping quiet. Perhaps that explains some of Moon’s power over his minions.
Young-oon Kim: Washington, D.C.  After dinner Miss Kim began to speak: “Our Leader might be coming… If our preparation is not adequate it will take many years to clear from his mind our laxity. Our preparation must be thorough. Some of us remember his last visit when some were not completely prepared. We remember his anger at that time. If he comes and sees lack of preparation this time, his anger will be much greater and much longer-lasting.” New Age Frontiers  June 1967    pages 14 and 15    LINK
Nansook Hong: In 1992 she went on a fundraising trip to Japan with the True Mother. Before the return journey, she says: “I was given $20,000 in two packs of crisp new bills. I hid them beneath the tray in my make-up case. I knew that smuggling was illegal, but I believed that the followers of Sun Myung Moon answered to higher laws.” Much of the Moon money was given to Hyo Jin to fuel his cocaine and alcohol binges.  pages 171-175
Hyo Jin, she says, would frequently beat her. “I once tried to flush his cocaine down the toilet. He beat me so severely I thought he would kill the baby in my womb. He made me sweep up the spilled white powder from the bathroom floor even as he continued to beat me. Later Hyo Jin would offer a religious justification for beating half-senseless a woman seven months pregnant. He was teaching me to be humble in the presence of the son of the Messiah.” Her children, she says, were her only reason to live. “My main goal was to raise them decently.” Her children would ask her: “Why do we have a bad dad?”” pages 180, 184 and elsewhere
Here is another description of Hyo Jin Moon: “Most of what I’ve been told comes from people who were around him earlier, like Floyd Christofferson at the Manhattan Center studios, Leon Harris who used to watch his back when he went into the bad parts of town to buy cocaine, and others. He injured a friend of mine with a karate kick to the ribs in the New Yorker in the late 80s, he beat up another student at UTS, he smacked Ben Lorentzen around when he first went to work with him in the studio, he beat up second gens who I could name because I know their parents, he held a loaded handgun to Peter Kim’s head at East Garden and threatened to pull the trigger, he shot up a passing freight train with an automatic weapon, and he threatened to kill numerous other people including Nansook (and her unborn child)…
At a meeting in Kodiak in 1986 Hyo Jin assaulted Joachim Becker who was in his 40s. Hyo Jin got up from his seat, flung the older church brother on to the ground and hit him in the ribs. You could literally hear his ribs crack. The bewildered brother lay on the ground wheezing and clutching the side of his rib cage. Needless to say the meeting ended abruptly. Later Joachim went to the hospital and had a wrap around beige bandage wrapped around his chest to mend a few of his fractured ribs.
Those are just some examples of his out-of-control behaviour. I have good friends who worked on the ground staff at Belvedere and East Garden who used to hide when he was in the vicinity, in case he was coked up and in a bad mood. Security staff were on duty to keep an eye on Nansook when he went into one of his periodic rages. It was True Father himself who said that Satan walked in and out of Hyo Jin freely. Yet there was no direct intervention to get him into rehab when all the indicators were there, and he wasn’t taken out of position until the damage was done. Nor did he get sent to Cheongpyeong to have his evil spirits removed like ordinary mortals.
These were all eye-witness reports from people who were around him daily. And this pattern of misbehaviour persisted from his teens, when he was expelled from Hackley High for shooting at other students with a BB gun, until Nansook called time on their marriage because she realised she might end up dead, or one of their kids might die in an accident while handling one of the sixty or more guns that he kept unsecured about the old house at East Garden, which included a cache under the bed in the master bedroom, some loaded and some of those with the safety off.” LINK
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Hak Ja Han wants followers to venerate Hyo Jin Moon who had many serious and well-known problems. Here his photo is seen on the altar in the main prayer hall at Cheongpyeong. Hak Ja Han also holds an annual music festival in honor of Hyo Jin.
It was 1989. The BCs used to gather every Sunday in Tarrytown. We loved being together. If Hyo Jin hyungnim was around we would follow him around and do whatever he wanted to do. He had a volatile temper and was often abusive but we were told that it was because we didn’t understand his and God’s heart. He was teaching us God’s heart. One day he had us lined up and he started raving and ranting waving his gun. Suddenly he stopped. We had our heads bowed but I looked up. He had his gun pointed at Jin Seung Eu’s head and pulled the trigger. The bullet went into the wall behind Jin Seung Eu, 2 inches from his head.  LINK
Hyo Jin was allowed to get away with his abusive behavior because there was no oversight and nobody but Reverend Moon himself had the authority to stop him. This was the type of dysfunctional and nepotistic system that Moon himself had set up.  LINK
VIDEO  Sunday November 1994 at 5am at Belvedere 0:05  Let’s welcome Hyo Jin Hyo Jin, the oldest son, is taking the place of his father this Sunday 0:40  Do you respect me? Fuck you!!! You don’t know me. … Don’t stop because I will kill you. I … Father and Mother and they know that …. miserable and I’m miserable. 1:44  “I know my Father. He made me, so we are just like each other. We can kill one another.” 3:26 “I don’t like this place, you know. I am standing here being judged by you motherfuckers. What the fuck do you judge me by?”
Hyo Jin Moon is rumored to have held a loaded handgun to Peter Kim’s head at East Garden and threatened to pull the trigger. Why?
Donna Orme Collins: “As I grew older, I witnessed frightening pre-marriage ceremonies in which the bride and groom-to-be beat each other with bats to rid themselves of evil. I had also learned that the lives of Moon’s followers were utterly controlled by him – and that he was the parent I was supposed to rely on.” LINK
Sun Myung Moon bullied Second Gen teenagers in New York
Testimony of a participant at Moon’s July 18, 2011 event in Nigeria: “I saw something I shouldn’t have seen during Hoondokhoe on the 18th July. Maybe Father sensed that the spiritual standard was not good enough, or for whatever reason it may have been, True Father slapped Hyung Jin Nim in his face in front of all the members. And after that he slapped Yeon Ah Nim, Hyung Jin Nim’s wife, in the face too. A very sudden unexpected situation. After that Father continued talking for 2 hours, but the African members were shocked to the core by what they had just witnessed. Some thought that Hyung Jin Nim’s couple paid indemnity for the failure of the members to properly attend True Parents.”
Mariah Blake: “Speaking on the Senate floor in July 1993, Sen. Trent Lott (R-Miss.) urged fellow lawmakers to celebrate True Parents Day—a holiday honoring the Moons—in the name of family values. “It is in the interest of society and government to adopt policies strengthening and sustaining fathers and mothers,” he said. The following year, Congress passed a bill designating Parents Day a national holiday.
While lawmakers were lauding Moon’s family values message, his own family was unraveling. In 1998, his ex-daughter-in-law, Nansook Hong, published a devastating expose of Moon family life, which claimed that her husband, Steve, blew huge sums of church money on cocaine and beat her during her pregnancy. Hong and Moon’s estranged daughter, Un Jin, went on 60 Minutes, where they presented a litany of allegations about drugs, sex, and corruption inside Moon’s church. They also disclosed that Moon had an illegitimate son named ‘Sammy.’”  from Mother Jones (November 2013)  LINK
Extra-Sacramental Rituals of the Family Federation for World Peace After the Blessing ceremony, for the First Generation there is an “Indemnity Stick ceremony” where the couples all have to beat their spouse’s buttocks as hard as they can with a baseball bat or a heavy stick. The purpose of this is to pay a price for the sin of Adam and Eve by hitting the sexual area. It is also meant as the one time a couple is allowed to physically assault one another, after which all disputes should be settled verbally. This ceremony is public, and is not a private experience. Members have been hospitalized with spinal injuries because of this ceremony. LINK
An open letter to In Jin Moon and the Unification Church By Thomas Cromwell    September 13, 2012
The Incident at the New Yorker Hotel: Hyun Jin stopped talking – there was a familiar uncomfortable silence…
Hyun Jin Moon’s assault on Tim Folzenlogen
Kook Jin Moon – an elder American second generation: “Later on, there was the fight club. It was [Kook Jin] Justin’s idea and he held sessions at his parents’ compound in Seoul. “There were five or six of us, and we’d fight without gloves until we were bloody,” Porter says. Justin officiated and fought, but he didn’t always play by the rules. As one fight was starting, he unleashed a head kick. “This guy Isaac was just waiting for the fight to begin, and Justin leaped up and did this crazy swinging kick,” Porter remembers. “It landed in the guy’s face, and it looked like the guy was airborne forever, like he was levitating, until he finally dropped to the floor. It was cool. But it wasn’t an emotional thing with [Justin]. He was very calculated about his violence. He had to be the best.” Portfolio magazine LINK
Hyung Jin Moon (August 7, 2016) 1:20:50 [Probably late 2012 or early 2013] “Literally when she screamed at us, and we have shared it now, when she screamed, when we were having that conversation in the TV room of the Palace, in the inner chambers of the Palace, and when Kook Jin said: “You have to be like the Queen Mother and honor the decision of True Father.” She blew up and said: “I have absolute power” with her eyes bugging out and her face red. Both of us looked like … and we looked at each other [thinking] “Are you seeing this?, Are you seeing this?”” “Han Mother did an occult ritual … She has become a pagan.”
Sun Myung Moon (May 17, 1973, USA)
“Good morning! Sit down! I am going to speak about the significance of a training session like this….
In your own way, you can organize your lecture. In order for you to be a dynamic lecturer, you must know the knack of holding and possessing the listeners’ hearts. If there appears a crack in the man’s personality, you wedge in a chisel, and split the person apart. For the first few lectures, you will just memorize. But after that, you will study the character of your audience, and adapt your lecture. If he is a scientist, you will approach him differently than a commercial man, artist, etc. The audience as a whole will have a nature, and you must be flexible.”   LINK
The ‘True Father’ who could not forgive: “I haven’t been able to release my grudge towards Japanese people yet.” November 2011
Compare life in the Moon family with the teachings of Jesus: Six Surprising Ways Jesus Changed The World
The seven deadly sins of narcissism
Sun Myung Moon was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize in 2002
The Unification Church and Shamanism
How “God’s Day” was established in 1968
The FFWPU is unequivocally not Christian
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Wonderful Tonight
Dean Winchester x Reader
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Song: Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton
A/N: Part 6 in the “Hunting for Home” Series. Now that Dean has his girl back home, they have started to unlock the mystery of their new friend and her foreboding prophecy, Dean's methods begin to get under her skin.
Warnings: Language, Smut, Canon Divergence
Words: 6408
Each chapter includes a song and dialogue prompt when requested.
Everything Tags: @his-paradox @aquivercactus @sorenmarie87 @lefthologramdeer @rockyhorrorpictureshowstyle @grace-for-sale @redm81 @becs-bunker
SPN Tags: @soythedemonqueen @kazosa @lucifer-in-leather @perseusandmedusa @tiquismiquis @docharleythegeekqueen
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Part 1: The Halloween Party  (For @kazosa’s half-evil-writing-challenge)
Part 2: Over the Hills and Far Away
Part 3: Hooked on a Feeling
Part 4: Ain’t No Sunshine
Part 5: I’m Gonna Crawl
“Um, you wanna say that again little brother?” Dean said, slipping into his DeNiro face as he pulled a swig from his bottle and fixed his gaze on Sam. “What’s that now?”
“Well, according to our new friend Iris, you know, the Prophet, she claims that you two will be the parents of a very special child.”
Nearly choking on the food you’d just eaten, you quickly grabbed at your napkin and brought it to your mouth.
“Parents?” you snorted, swallowing the last bite of food. “Me? Him?”
For a moment, you could only look between their three faces in shocked silence as they all stared back at you. When you busted out in laughter, it was their turn to be shocked until you were able to get yourself under control again and wiped the tears that formed at the corners of your eyes from cackling so hard.
“Parents… now that’s friggin’ hilarious!” you tried to catch your breath, but when you noticed Dean still gawking at you, it was a little easier to regain control.
 “What? I could be a parent,” he snaked, highly offended by your reaction.
“Oh darlin’, of that I have no doubt… but c’mon be realistic… us? As parents? That’s a bit far-fetched don’t ya think? I can see it now… ‘oh hey, babe, can you grab some diapers on your way back from killing that Werewolf?” you were teasing, but also trying to make a point.
He considered it for a moment, a slight nod of his head to cement his agreement.
“I saw it though,” Iris spoke up timidly, looking between you and Dean. “I did, I saw it. I clearly saw you,” she motioned to you with her chin, “holding a child in your arms. The infant had bright green eyes and looked just like him.” This time, a nod to Dean.
“She claims it was a—”
“Sam, I swear, if you say the word Prophecy, so help me…” Dean warned, and Sam bit his lip to stifle a grin.
“But it was…” Iris said and was a little taken back by the expression Dean passed her.
“Regardless of what it was,” you interjected, giving Dean a silent warning in the process, “she clearly saw, something about us. However, I don’t think this is really the time or place to get into specifics.”
“She’s right,” Sam spoke up and turned to Iris. “But, you remember it all clearly… the words, the visions. Could you write it all down?”
“Of course. Those words, they’re burned into my memory.”
“Great. Would you be willing to help us figure this out before going back to Chicago?”
“Sure, Sam. Anything I can do to help. I owe you one for getting me away from Crowley.”
“Ok, great. Let’s finish this and get the hell out of here then. It’s a long drive home and we have a lot of stuff to try and figure out.”
Leaving the rest of the details for the very long car ride back to the bunker, you all finished your meals and paid the tab.
Walking down the streets of New Orleans, Sam led the way towards the Impala, chatting with Iris while you and Dean hung back a few steps.
“You really sure you’re alright?” he asked.
“Yes, Dean. I promise you, I’m fine. Especially now that I’ve eaten.”
“Good, but I mean what Iris said. About the whole kid thing. I mean, you’re right. It’s ridiculous. No way we could have…” He motioned vaguely at your stomach and you couldn’t help roll your eyes at him.
“Look, no offense, but do you really think I am going to leave protection in the hands of the man? I’m on the pill, Dean. No babies are getting made in this factory unless I specifically put in an order for one, alright?”
Sighing with relief, he nodded and draped his arm around your shoulders. “That’s good to know.”
Turning the corner, Dean’s Impala sat waiting for your return, and you’d never been so happy to see her as you were in that moment, but it made you remember your own special set of wheels.
“Hey, where’s my car?” you asked, suddenly nervous at the thought if it still being at Harley’s old place.
“Don’t worry. She’s safe and sound and back home in the garage. We found it at Harley’s and Sam brought her back.”
“Sam—” you started, but he immediately held up his hands in defense.
“I swear, not a scratch. I didn’t screw with the radio and the tank is topped off,” he said, flashing his patented sweet-Sam grin, and you knew he meant it. “Seriously though, the two of you are like the same person.”
“My woman just has the same respect and appreciation for a fine piece of machinery like I do. Her ride—”
“Her name is Blanche,” you said with a raised brow and serious scowl.
Dean laughed but quickly reigned it in when he saw you were being serious. “You named your car after a Golden Girl?”
“At least it’s a real name. You just objectify this beautiful girl here by calling her Baby. You should be ashamed.”
“Well,” Dean continued ignoring your last comment. “Blanche there is pretty, but not nearly as fine as you Baby,” Dean wistfully looked at the Impala and ran one lone finger along her hood as he went towards the driver’s side.
“Oh, please,” you mumbled, feeling the slightest bit jealous of a car.
“Uh, guys… it’s just a—” Iris started to speak, but quickly stopped when she saw Sam’s look of warning.
“I wouldn’t go there,” he said only loud enough for her to hear. He sighed and looked over at you while opening the rear passenger’s side for Iris, then looked to you. “Shotgun?”
“You’re cute,” you replied with a huff and got in the front passenger seat.
Shaking his head in frustration and mumbling under his breath, Sam went around to the other side and took the seat beside Iris.
Slipping into the front seat next to Dean, he paused before starting the ignition and looked at you.
“Blanche, really?” he asked, his nose wrinkled in confusion. “Really?”
“What? She’s old, sexy as hell and still gets her motor revved hard,” your expression challenged him to disagree. After a moment, he nodded in reluctant agreement before starting the Impala and pointing her in the direction of home.
   Arriving back at the bunker later the following evening, you descended the stairs and realized that Iris was still standing up at the top looking down into the cavernous space.
“Holy cow,” she gasped in amazement. “I’ve never seen anything like this!”
“Cool, right?” you asked as you tossed one of the bags on the table in the War Room. “Why don’t you come on down and I’ll give you the fifty-cent tour and show you where you can stay.”
“She can stay in your old room,” Dean said, coming up from behind you.
“Old room? Am I getting evicted?”
“No, I just figured you could stay with me,” he mumbled quietly, a boyish grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. An expression of his that you found incredibly hard to resist.
You nodded and turned back to Iris. “Come on, I’ll show you where you can get cleaned up.”
Once she was settled into your room, you moved your essentials into Dean’s room and immediately took a shower. Scrubbing off the last few days of dirt and grime felt euphoric as the hot water cascaded down your back. You thought back to the night at the bar, and Dean telling you that he loved you. Letting that sink in, a myriad of feelings washed over you, including happiness and fear over the new found love you had for Dean, right along with that, was the fear of Iris’ prophetic words. Pushing them aside for now, all you really wanted to concentrate on, was Dean.
Turning off the water and toweling off, you slipped the fresh tank top and boy shorts on and wrapped the plush bathrobe around your shoulders. Once your feet were firmly tucked into your Ninja Turtle slippers, you walked down the hallway back to Dean’s room and found him lying on the bed with music playing quietly; his eyes were closed, and his arms tucked beneath his head. Again, struck by how things had changed since you first met him at that Halloween party months before, you stood there and just watched him for a moment.
Sensing he wasn’t alone, Dean opened his eyes and saw you standing in the doorway. Propping himself up on his elbows, he smiled sweetly; his eyes never leaving you as you closed the door and sat next to him on the bed, the only thought in your mind was wanting to kiss him.
“Something still bothers me about Iris,” he said before you could even attempt to try.
“What’s that?”
“If she’s a prophet, why no Archangel? Where’s her protector, hmm?”
“That’s a really good question,” you replied quietly, shifting on the bed to get closer to him.
“Seriously though, if Crowley could grab her like that without any angel intervention… who’s to say she’s really a prophet, right? I mean, this is Crowley we’re talking about, maybe—”
“Dean!”
He stopped suddenly, giving you a curious look.
“Will you please, please stop talking about Iris and Crowley. I don’t want to talk about it anymore tonight.”
Your tone had enough mix of sweetness and authority to make him pay attention, his expression giving way to that impish grin you loved so much. Before he could protest, you straddled his lap and pinned him back to the bed.
“Now, Mr. Winchester. Please kiss me and show me that you actually missed me while I was shacked up with the King of Hell,” you wiggled your eyebrows playfully, but his face still turned sour.
“Yeah… no. I can’t, not with that visual,” Dean groaned and sat up on the bed, causing you to sit back on his legs, your face scrunching in disappointment.
“Are you serious right now?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. I am, actually.”
Dean lightly rubbed his hands on the upper parts of your arms while he tried to find the words he’d been mustering up the courage to say.
“I want you. Trust me,” he exhaled a nervous laugh, allowing his eyes a quick trip up and down your body before returning to meet your gaze. “But, uh, maybe we shouldn’t. You know… with all that Iris said—”
“Dean Winchester, are you fucking kidding me? First of all, we don’t even know if she is a prophet for sure. Secondly, I told you, I protect myself against unwanted body snatchers. No one is growing in this womb without me getting a security deposit. Follow me?”
“You mentioned that.”
“Ok, so what’s the problem?”
A sickening thought lingered, that maybe he had changed his mind… Maybe he had changed his mind somewhere between New Orleans and the bunker. Was it all too much? Living the life of a hunter is hard enough, throw in relationships and the idea of parenthood, and it could be overwhelming.
“The problem is until I know what she is, and that you are not in any danger, I’d honestly rather just be cautious.”
“Dean Winchester wants to be cautious? Well, damn. That tells me that either you really aren’t him or you really are that worried.”
His hand touched your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek lightly, guiding your gaze back to meet his. “I’m that worried.”
“Ok. I get it. This can wait.”
You slid off Dean’s lap, your bottom lip pouted out far enough to be sure he would notice.
“You can be a real brat, you know that?”
“I do. You can’t mind too much. I mean you did say that you lov—”
“Yeah, I remember,” he paused, a twitch of a smile on his lips. “I remember what I said.”
“Did you mean that?” you asked as you laid back on the pillow. It was thick with his scent, which reignited the simmering heat between your thighs.
“I did. I don’t know when it happened exactly, but I realized it when we figured out you were missing. I got this feeling… sort of how my stomach feels after Sam force feeds me vegetables; but worse.”
Shifting on the bed, Dean hovered over you slightly and brushed a hair from your cheek. “We’ve all lost a lot of people. Family, friends… They’re all really hard loses. But to lose you; it might be the thing that does me in.”
Putting your need for him aside, you nodded slightly and watched as his face softened with gratitude.
“You won’t lose me, ok? I’m far too stubborn and good at my job. But, because I love you, we’ll do it your way.”
“I hope so.”
“What? That I am too stubborn or too good at my job?”
“That you love me.”
You sat up on the bed, so you were eye level with Dean. “I do, I love you, Dean. All joking aside, I will go along with however you want to handle this. I trust you with my life.”
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For the next two weeks, you, Dean, Sam and Iris hashed out her origin with her gift, how she ended up with Crowley and everything in between. They salted her, touched her with silver, dowsed her with holy water, and nothing. She never flinched, never reacted to any of the usual tests. Castiel wasn’t answering Dean’s calls. He hadn’t since he disappeared on Dean and Sam in New Orleans.
You could see Dean’s apprehension growing with each day that passed. Not getting answers was getting frustrating, and with that, he was getting unbearable. He not only outright refused to take on anything else until he got answers, but he also refused to touch you and it was beginning to grow old. You and Sam both saw how on edge he was becoming, constantly pacing, flipping angrily through lore books and calling on Cas aggressively.
Iris was getting exhausted as well. She was missing home, and though she’d reached out to her family, she was beginning to worry they were going to come looking for her if she didn’t go back soon.
Towards the end of the second week of reading lore and supernatural examinations, you were sitting at the table in the library, across from Dean and Sam. A rush of cool air rushed past your face and there was the feeling of a presence over your shoulder.
“Holy crap, Cas!” Dean exclaimed and jumped up from his seat. “Where the Hell have you been?!”
“Hell, actually.”
Cas looked worn as he fell into the chair beside you. “I was looking for this.” From the interior of his coat, he pulled out a fragment of the demon tablet.
“Cas, you freakin’ genius. If she can read this, then she’s a prophet, right?” Dean took the fragment and held it carefully, turning it in his hand as if making sure it was really what Cas said it was.
“Prophet? Well, with Kevin’s replacement now missing, I supposed the next prophet is—”
“Me. I am her,” Iris spoke up from the entryway between the library and hallway. “Crowley told me I am the prophet.”
Castiel turned, and upon seeing Iris slowly rose from his seat and made his way to her.
“You’re Iris?”
“Yes,” she looked past him nervously to you, and you nodded to let her know it was ok.
“He’s on our team, Iris. This is Castiel. He’s an angel.”
Castiel looked at her curiously. The longer he stared, the more she began to fidget.
“Um, guys, he’s starting to creep me out, angel or not,” Iris backed up a few steps until she bumped into the table.
“Iris Petrakis,” Cas said plainly; not a question but a statement.
“Y—yes.”
Castiel turned to Dean and gave him a solemn nod. “She’s a prophet. She’s much further down the list, but she is, indeed, a prophet.”
“Then where was her archangel when Crowley snatched her, hmm? Where were the ominous thunder and blinding light?” Dean asked, his brows raised, arms thrown wide.
“I’m not sure. Heaven isn’t exactly in perfect working order, Dean. I will look into it and try to figure out what happened. I’ll be back as soon as I know something.”
In a flash, Castiel was in the wind again. Iris pulled out a seat and slowly sat down, her eyes unable to move from the place Castiel had taken off from.
“That was an angel? Not even cose to what I imagined,” she sounded a million miles away, but gradually brought her gaze towards you. “Nothing like what I imagined at all.”
“Yeah, you don’t know the half of it lady,” Dean grumbled before handing the tablet fragment to Sam. “So, what now? We just wait for Cas to maybe bring us back some answers?”
“Dean, I think you just need to relax. I mean, yes, what Iris said, its profound. But without any more information, you’re just going to drive yourself crazy.”
Sam grabbed the fragment off the table and walked around to Iris. Sitting down in front of her, he cautiously handed it out to her and she took it reluctantly.
“Sam, you really think she’s going to get answers from that thing?” Dean asked and looked at you. “You’ve been awfully quiet. Wanna chime in here?”
“Honestly, I got nothing. In fact,” you stood up and pushed the chair back under the table. “I need a break.”
“A break? Seriously? You realize the situation we have here, right? Do you remember what she said?”
“Yes, I do. Of course, I do,” you could feel your frustration with Dean reaching a boiling point, and you didn’t want to fight, but he was overreacting in a way you’d never seen, “But, babe, you’ve gone over the edge. They’re just words. You’ve passed up several potential cases to try and stay here to figure this out. Iris wants to go home. I need to get out. Poor Sam probably would like to sleep!”
Dean was taken aback by the growing volume of your voice. “Sweetheart…”
“Dean, don’t,” you warned him, “I said I would do this your way, and I have. But, this is getting absurd. Look at her, she’s beat. Your poor brother has been going nonstop looking through lore and books and notes from other prophets… there’s nothing. Nothing, anywhere, in any book. It’s time to let it go!”
“Y/N—”
“No, I’m done. You wanna stay here and obsessively search for answers before you ever touch me again. Go for it. I’ll be at the bar.”
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    The haziness of the atmosphere smacked you in the face as you strolled in. The need for a stiff drink pushed you towards the bar and through the sea of drunk patrons; but not without a few random butt grabs along the way.
If they only knew how much heat I was packing… you thought as the last creep gave you a hard, pinching goose on your ass.
Rolling your eyes and ignoring the advance, you finally made it to the bar and ordered two shots of whiskey and a beer. Eyeing you sharply, the bartender filled the order and you slammed back both whiskeys within seconds of receiving them. Throwing down some cash on the bar, you grabbed your beer and made your way back through the people towards the single open pool table in the back of the room.
Setting your beer down on the small table, you grabbed the rack for the billiard balls and began arranging them properly for a game of 9-Ball. Without looking around you sauntered back towards the end of the table and leaned down to line up the break.
As you bent over the rails, a deep voice spoke up from behind you.
“Need some help with that sugar?”
A tall man with shaggy blonde hair and a goatee stood leering at you while sipping on his beer. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to the table and took your shot; the balls bouncing across the velvet greens.
The man oohed as your break shot the 9-ball right into the far corner pocket.
“Nice shot little lady. You got pretty lucky on that one,” he said as he moved closer to your side, both hands leaning on the wood of the table.
Giving him side eye, you sighed and moved to re-rack the balls. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Picking up one of the hookers at the bar, perhaps?”
“Nah, I saw you come in before. Tried to get your attention at the bar but you breezed right past me before I could.”
“Are you the one that grabbed my ass?”
“He did what now?” Dean spoke up from beyond the table. His arms fell to his sides; hands clenching in and out of fists. “What did this guy do to you?”
“Nothing,” you said with a shrug. “Nothing I can’t handle myself.”
Leaning against the pole, Dean crossed his arms over his chest and gave the guy a warning smile.
Mr. Goatee snorted a laugh and turned to face Dean. Looking down at him, he shook his head as if he was annoyed by a fly. “Look, pal, this really doesn’t concern you—”
In one swift movement that happened in a blur, Dean had the guy face down on the pool table with one arm twisted behind his back. He was pushing his weight into him, causing Mr. Goatee to wince and whine.
“What the hell, man!”
“I want to know what it was you did to my girl here. Because if it was anything other than politely moving out of her way and saying ‘s’cuse me ma’am’ then you and me are gonna have a problem.”
“I—I—”
“Dean!” you shouted, shaking your head and motioning for him to let go.
He relented, and the guy stumbled back from the table, rubbing at his arm. “You’re crazy!”
“You have no idea, my man…”
Shaking his head, and throwing you a cursory glance, the goateed interloper quickly vacated leaving his beer behind. Dean moved it out of the way with a furrowed brow and sat at the little bar table.
“What are you doing here, Dean?”
Bending down you grabbed the rack again and fixed the nine balls into the diamond formation, setting in on felt with care.
“You’re really good at that,” he said, watching you with a dreamy look on his face as if he hadn’t heard your question.
“I know… what are you doing here? Get tired of poking and prodding Iris?”
“I deserve that,” Dean said, dramatically hanging his head and holding his hands up in front of him.
“So, answer.”
“I’m here because you are right. You were one hundred percent right… everything you said back at the bunker.”
Slowing walking around the table, over-pronouncing the swing in your hips, while chalking your cue, you watched him thoughtfully; trying to search for sarcasm hidden behind his words.
“Do you really mean that?”
“I do. After you left, Sam set me straight. Iris too. Prophet or not, she’s a smart kid.”
One of the waitresses came sauntering through, giving Dean and a sly smile and a once over before stopping to ask for his drink order.
“A few shots of whiskey and throw a couple bottles of beer on there too. Thanks, sweetheart.”
When he didn’t give her any more than a cursory glance with the order, she turned to leave with a roll of her eyes. As she walked away, the current song on the jukebox faded out, and the familiar beginning to “Wonderful Tonight” began to play.
Dean got up from the table and sifted through the available cues in the holder. Humming along with the music, he went about choosing one, then stood at the top of the table and positioned himself to break.
  “It's late in the evening; she's wondering what clothes to wear She puts on her make-up and brushes her long blonde hair And then she asks me, Do I look all right? And I say, "Yes, you look wonderful tonight”
  “Hey now, Winchester. This is my table. You wanna play here, you’re gonna follow my rules.”
Amused, he stood up straight and leaned on the cue. “What kind of rules we talkin’?”
Laying the rack under the table, you turned towards him and waited until you were close enough that he could hear you over the jukebox playing in the corner.
“First rule, I break; always. The second rule, if I can get the nine in within the first three shots, you owe me a back rub and breakfast in bed.”
Dean snickered and stifled it when he saw your expression. “Fair enough. What else?”
“That’s it. Now move aside please so I can get this done.”
Sweeping his arm across the front of the table, he stepped back for you. Bending over, you made sure to push your ass further up into the air than necessary. You knew he’d be watching and you wanted him to remember what he was missing.
A swift shove of your stick shot the white cue ball at the nine solid balls at the other end of the table. The eight, five and one instantly sunk into various pockets, and you were left with a fairly easy shot on the nine but tried to deduce how to do it involving the two ball.
Finally finding your angle, you walked passed Dean and bent over the side. Purposely exaggerating your hips again for his benefit. Bending down over the table again, this time he was in the perfect line of sight to see the swell of your breasts wanting to spill from beneath your shirt. 
“Nine in the corner pocket,” you called and took your shot. The two-ball barreled down the line of the bumper and knocked the nine, dumping it into the pocket without hesitation.
“I like my eggs scrambled, please. Also, I plan on sleeping in tomorrow, so you don’t have to have it ready till at least eleven.”
“Fair enough, but I want a rematch,” Dean said, shaking his head. “I feel hustled.”
“Alright, two out of three then, yeah?”
Dean nodded and just as he was about to rerack the set, the waitress came back with the drinks.
You both picked up one of the shots and lightly touched the rims before tossing them back.
  “I feel wonderful because I see The love light in your eyes And the wonder of it all Is that you just don't realize how much I love you”
  Dean’s face reacted to the initial burn of the whiskey, and you couldn’t help but smile as he shook it off. “I got a new rule though. If I win… you have to forgive me for being an ass.”
“I forgive you for that every day, Dean.”
His knowing expression made you laugh, and you instantly softened towards him.
“Maybe… but this time you are a hundred percent right. I went a little crazy.”
“A little?”
“More than a little,” he relented and picked his cue back up. “But... if I win this, you have to let me make it up to you.”
“Deal.”
“Go ahead, break,” he leaned back against the table, pool cue in one hand, beer now in the other.
You could feel his eyes burning a hole through your back and slide down to your ass. His presence was suddenly overwhelming, and this time when you pulled back to hit the cue, you missed and scratched on it.
Dean’s laugh was both intoxicating and irritating at the same time. Biting your lip, you turned to him and shook your head in disgust.
“That’s not fair… you can’t count that,” you said and took a step back towards the table as he approached you.
“I do, actually. It was a scratch, so I win.”
Leaning the cue against the rails, he pushed you back against the billiard table and placed a hand on either side.
  “It's time to go home now and I've got an aching head So I give her the car keys and she helps me to bed And then I tell her, as I turn out the light I say, "My darling, you were wonderful tonight Oh my darling, you were wonderful tonight”
  “Let’s get out of here, hm? I can think of a few better ways to prove to you how sorry I am.”
His eyes threw off the devilish sparks that drove you crazy, and you knew that you couldn’t say no; even if you felt you should. He’d been so cold and distant lately, and it was all because of a bunch of words from a stranger. His fear of, whatever, was enough for him to not kiss you or touch you for days. You wanted to be angry but knowing Dean and his reasons for acting that way, you crumbled easily.
“Let’s go.”
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  Within in minutes you were in the parking lot. His fingers rested on the small of your back and guiding you towards the Impala. You stopped, grabbed his hand and instead pulled him towards Blanche who was discreetly parked in the back corner of the lot.
The moment you were within arms reach of the car, Dean grabbed you by your ass and lifted you up against her. His mouth found yours; hungrily clamping down on your lips and separating them with his tongue.
Grabbing the back of his head, you pushed him harder against you; desperate to feel his skin on yours. He slid you over enough to get the rear passenger door open and then pushed you down onto the bench seat.
Slamming the door behind him, he hovered over you as you tore the blue Henley over his head and into the front seat. Burying your head into his chest, you nipped kisses on his flesh, relishing in the euphoric warmth of him.
“Y/N,” he sighed, his eyes hovering closed at your touch. When he opened them, they were no longer the impish green you were used too, but nearly black and blown back with lust. “I want you, now.”
He didn’t speak again. Dean pawed at the clasp of your jeans, taking your boots off with them and tossing them aside. You worked on unbuttoning your shirt, allowing your breasts to spill out of the bra that could barely contain them at this angle.
Dean buried his face between your tits, licking and sucking at them as his erection swelled hard in his jeans against your thigh. You were desperate to feel him. You did your best to unbutton his jeans, finally getting the zipper and pulling them down enough to release his throbbing dick, already slick with precum against your own flesh.
His mouth moved up to your neck, as his hand moved down between your legs. Dean moaned into your mouth as his hand found how ready for him you already were. His teeth bared down on your neck, as his fingers teased your clit.
“Wait,” he growled and sat up, making you whine in disappointment. “I got some apologizing to do.”
Dean slid you up, so your back was leaning against the door. He freed himself completely from his jeans and took a moment to take you in.
“God damn, I really was an idiot,” he whispered as he bit his bottom lip. “A real, first-grade idiot.”
“So, say you're sorry Winchester…” you purred, reaching out and running a hand through his hair. “Prove how sorry you are.”
Dean bent down and kissed your stomach below your navel and didn’t stop until he reached the swell of your sex. A grappling moan escaped your lips as his tongue plunged deeply into your folds; no teasing, no hesitation.
Gripping his hair tightly in your hand, your hips bucked instantly as he wrapped his arms around you to try and hold you still. Dean swirled his tongue around inside you, not leaving one inch untouched. His teeth grazed against your clit one too many times, triggering your walls to flutter quickly and your climax to spill your thighs.
“Fuck!!” you screamed and pushed his face deeper into your folds, something he accepted happily.
Once he had finished taking in as much of you as he could, he sat up, grinning like a fool. “Forgive me?”
“Not quite yet,” you sat up, pushing him off you and making him sit on the bench.
Dean pulled you down on his lap, his erection perfectly aligned and ready to take you on. You leaned your forehead against his and hovered over him, teasing the tip of his dick with the warmth of your pussy; a guttural noise rose from his chest with each slight movement you made against him.
“Say you’re sorry and that you won’t go for days without touching me again…”
“Baby, I am so sorry… trust me. A day won’t go by from now on where I don’t.”
You slowly lowered yourself on top of him. Dean’s eyes rolled back with his head as he filled you completely. Another low growl barreled from his mouth, as his hands gripped your hips tightly; so tight you knew there would be marks tomorrow.
He rocked you gently at first, relishing in how he felt while inside you. Dean lowered his head and took one of your nipples into his mouth, sending an electric shock racing down your spine and causing you to move faster against him.
Whether it was the days with no physical contact or the few shots of whiskey, neither you or Dean was going to last long in this state.
“Unf… fuck… Y/N…” Dean moaned, his hands nearly painful on your sides.
You placed your lips beside his ear, allowing the tip of your tongue to tease his lobe, as you spoke to him in a low, breathy whisper. “Cum for me baby… show me how much you missed me.”
It was enough to break him. Dean slammed you down on his lap one last time as his release coated you, inside and out; his mouth and teeth assaulting your breasts as he did. Rocking more slowly, you continued moving your hips on him, until you felt his entire body shudder, then go limp.
Dean lifted his head to you, the same goofy smile on his lips like before. You left a soft kiss on his cheek before climbing off of him and reaching into the front seat for your shirt.
“Whoa, whoa… who said it was time to get dressed. I think I have more apologies to make,” he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back into him.
“And, you can, back home. Back seat sex is fantastic, but there is a shower at the bunker big enough for two, plus a nice warm bed that we can get reacquainted with. Let’s take this apology tour back there, shall we?”
“Good God, yes,” Dean said and scrambled for his clothes.
Within minutes you were both dressed again and exiting the rear of the Chevelle.
“Meet you back home?” he asked, his expression soft and dreamy as he looked at you.
“Race you there,” you teased and went to hop into the car. Dean grabbed your arm and pulled you into him before you could.
“Y/N… I know I’m not easy to be with sometimes. I tend to get wrapped up in cases, and… whatever. I snore, I drink too much, I drive too fast... But I want you to know, besides my brother, you are the most important person in my life, and I love you.”
His voice broke a little, and you knew how deeply he meant it. 
“I love you too, Dean. And, yes, you may do all those things, but they are only a few of the things that I also love about you. I don’t care that you drink or drive fast. Or that you let a case monopolize your attention. I don’t even have to be your top priority. I just ask that you trust me, and don’t shut me out.”
“Never again.”
“Good, now, let’s get home. I’m dying for a shower and a snack. Then maybe some dinner.
“A snack and dinner?” he asked, his look of confusion was both endearing and sexy.
“You’re the snack Dean, geez.”
“Ohhh,” he realized, and flashed an embarrassed smile. With a big grin on his face, he turned towards the Impala. “First one home gets the unlumpy side of the bed!”
Shaking your head as he ran off, you jumped into the driver’s side and revved Blanche’s engine. Hearing her purr, and still reveling in the afterglow of being with Dean, you didn’t even care that he would beat you home or that you’d have the lumpy side of the mattress. Because you knew that once you were both there, there would be no sleeping that night.
   It was half-past eleven when you finally rolled out of bed the next day. Going down the hallway to the bathroom, you were still half asleep when you caught your reflection staring back at you from the mirror. Hungover from the whiskey and the sexual revolution you had started with Dean, you continued to stare at yourself as a nagging feeling was itching at the back of your brain.
There was something you had to do; maybe something you had forgotten… no matter how much you searched your brain, you couldn’t remember what it was. A soft knock at the door brought your attention back and without thinking, you answered it.
“Come in, I’m decent.”
Iris slowly pushed the door open and recoiled slightly when she saw you. “You alright?”
“Long night,” you answered simply. “What’s up?”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, circular case with a green cover. “I found these last night, you must have left these in the bedroom. I thought you might need them.”
A piercing bolt of panic ran down your spine and you suddenly realized what you had forgotten. Swallowing hard, you reached one shaky hand out to take the container and snapped it open. There were more than several days’ worth of birth control pills you’d forgotten to take since getting back from New Orleans. A montage of flashbacks to the night before and the number of times you and Dean had sex, unprotected, caused an instant bout of nausea to rise in your gut.
You looked up at Iris, your eyes wide and full of fear.
“Um, Iris… can you run through that prophecy one more time?”
She looked at you curiously, then to the container in your hand. The realization dawned on her and her whole body audibly sighed.
“Oh shit,” she said and shrugged. “I guess where fate has a will, she’ll find a way.”
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authoressskr · 6 years
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Odd Doesn’t Begin To Describe It
Characters: Dean Winchester, Gabriel, Sam Winchester. Mentions of: Chuck, Lucifer, Jack Kline, and Michael.     ::     Warnings: Language, Light talk of issues, A bit of flirting     ::     Word Count: 1401
This was written for my 400+ Celebration!! Request your own here!
Prompt:  A: “Do you ever have moments where you’re struck by how odd and terrible your upbringing was?”  B: “Is that why you’re on the floor eating funfetti frosting out of a jar?” for @marichromatic -- Hope I did this well for you, sweetie! <3
Note: Please do NOT repost, copy & paste, post or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS PERMISSION.
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Dean heard a clatter in the kitchen, prompting him to quickly set his laptop to the side and rush into the kitchen.
“Are you drunk?” Dean asks, righting the chair lying several feet from its proper place and scooting it back under the table.
“Pssssssssh.” Gabriel half raspberries, waving his left hand vaguely in the air at Dean’s question.
“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Dean muttered mostly to himself, crossing his arms over his chest as he took in not only the archangel before him, but the state of his had-been freshly cleaned kitchen. Fighting back a sigh, he opted to clench his teeth instead, watching Gabriel sway minutely in front of the sink before turning to examine the bowl of fruit he kept for Sam by the fridge. “Something on your mind, Gabriel?” Dean raises his voice a little, Gabriel’s hair subtly moving as he shook his head before turning around with his forefinger in the air.
“Acccccctually...there is! How do you and Sammich do it?” Dean’s forehead furrows slightly as his gaze goes from Gabriel’s to the spot on the wall just over his shoulder. Jesus, he wasn’t good with emotional talks.
“Do what, exactly?”
“Deal with this shit-storm you call a life with more shit constantly being flung at you, without powers or hell, even a damn vacation once in awhile?!” Gabriel has moved closer, giving a little grunt as he finishes before snapping himself an extra large cookie.
“Sex, alcohol, shoving it down so it never sees the light of day again.”
“Well, I’ve hit several dozen liquor stores and am enjoying a reaaaally nice buzz right now. And,” He attempts to lean against the kitchen table but it moves, his hand shooting out to steady himself against the wooden betrayal. “I’ve been shoving shit down since I realized how fucked up my family really was.” Those slightly clouded golden orbs rake down Dean’s body as a smirk curled his lips. “Guess that leaves sex, big boy.”
Dean laughed humorlessly, deflecting the very odd switch in Gabriel’s normal flippant, seemingly carefree, Trickster demeanor.
“What happened to you tonight?”
“Ahh, well you see, I got a personal, super secret call up from Daddy.” There isn’t any denying the slightly venomous tone laced around the sarcasm, an armour that Dean knew all too well himself.
“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re handling it better than Lucifer did.” The look in Gabriel’s eyes shift once again, from the hardened bronze when he spoke about Chuck to a more appraising honey color.
“What did Princess do, hmm?” Dean watches the archangel stumble-slide himself into the nearest chair, never looking away from Dean.
“Locked himself in Sam’s room, while in Cas’s vessel, and was generally being a dick. Wanted Chuck to apologize. Wanted him to admit he needed his help. Mostly wanted someone to blame beside himself.”
“WELL IF THAT DOESN’T SOUND FAMILIAR, FUCK ME SIDEWAYS.” Gabriel yells dramatically, gesturing with both hands now. “Never his fault. Typical Luci.”
“Guess that wasn’t what Chuck wanted to talk to you about.” Dean moves to the fridge, withdrawing the two pies he’d bought. “Now, before you launch into this - remember, I don’t like sharing my pie and don’t expect this from me in the future, capisce?” Gabriel nods, almost buzzing with an eager energy Dean could swear he felt.
“Capisce.” Gabriel agrees, reaching for the fork Dean offered as he slid the pie before the angel.
The first few bites were quietly relished before Gabriel lifted his head from the cherry pie to gaze at the hunter across the table.
“He wanted me to help Jack.” His whisky eyes are piercing now, pining Dean with that otherness that Castiel and Jack just sometimes flashed through briefly. “Wanted me to help find Lucifer and either toss him back in the Cage and remake the Seals or put him down.” Dean wants to tell Gabriel his vote is firmly in column two, but he just gives the smallest of nods as he scoops another forkful into his mouth. “If you recall, it didn’t turn out so well the last time we tangoed.”
Dean chuckled. “Yeah, but the porno was a nice touch.”
“Aww, Dean, you care.”
“You knew I wouldn’t say yes to Michael. And you knew we’d keep fighting, no matter the odds.”
“I never said you were exceedingly smart when it comes to your own mortality.”
“Look, what I’m saying is you did it. You bought us some time and you gave us the help we needed when we were looking at a brick wall. Are you still a dick for killing me all those times? Yes. Do I trust you? Not as much as I should, but I know you’d have all our backs.”
“That make me part of Team Free Will?”
“We’ll take a vote later.” Dean gives a soft, almost reassuring smile to the archangel before returning to his pie.
“You know - this would be better flambeed with whiskey.” Dean looks down at his pie, want warring with ‘I don’t know if that’s the smartest thing. Fire plus an overly tipsy angel...’
“Whiskey.” Dean finally agrees with a nod as his dessert blinks out of existence for a few seconds before reappearing with a sharper scent that wafted before him.
::   -   ::   -   :: 
A couple hours later - a giant pan of boozy brownies with caramel rum sauce, bourbon blondie chocolate chip bread, and one too many whiskey ice cream floats...Dean was sitting on the concrete floor, propped up against the bottom cupboards with his eyes blissfully shut as his lips and tongue were trying to locate his straw to finish off the last of his whiskey ice cream float.
And that’s what Sam walks straight into. Gabriel sprawled on his stomach with a plush pillow under his chest as he shoved a spoon into his mouth while Dean searches blindly for his straw.
“Well, at least you didn’t kill each other.” Sam mutters, watching Dean’s emerald eyes flutter open and a lazy smile graces his face as Gabriel waved his spoon up at Sam.
“Sammich, do you ever have moments where you’re struck by how odd and terrible your upbringing was?” Sam wrinkles his forehead.
“Been having some deep intellectual conversations while we’ve been gone, I see.” Sam clears his throat. “Wait - is that why you’re on the floor eating funfetti frosting out of a jar?”
“You should join us Sammmmy.” Dean mutters, drawing out his name.
“Nah, this - this looks like something for you guys. I’m gonna go take a shower.” Just after he leaves, smirking to himself, Gabriel’s too bright golden eyes slide over to Dean.
“Wanna bond some more over torturing your brother?”
“Gabe,” Dean smacks his lips together loudly, enjoying the dregs of his milkshake and the buzz that warmed over him completely. “I don’t think you should be fucking with him too much. Heat of the Moment still makes him jittery.”
“Not like that. Maybe some hot pink hair dye mixed in his shampoo? Or a constant flower crown? Maybe make his underwear change to pink silk panties?” Gabriel raises his eyebrow suggestively at the last line, the gold melding into something warmer. “What’dya say, big boy?”
“I think he’d look awesome with some green hair. Really bring out his eyes. With hot pink highlights.” Dean agrees, pushing himself off the floor as Gabriel rises languidly, stretching the kinks out from the hard floor. Dean moves forward, attempting to go towards the door when Gabriel’s fingers wrapped firmly around his wrist, just above his watch.
“Thanks, Dean-o.” The mask slips away, like it had at least two dozen times in the last few hours, Dean returning his soft, unsure smile with a nod. And if Dean hadn’t been tipsy off his ass, he might have seen it - but also realizing this was Gabriel, he might not have.
But feeling Gabriel’s lips against his cheek caused his skin to flush immediately, his breath coming out in a soft whoosh. “Thanks again, Dean.” Gabriel’s smile holds more of a knowing curl before he bounces from the room, leaving Dean stunned just by the kitchen table, his hand lingering on his cheek where Gabriel had kissed.
“Huh.” Dean breathed before following Gabriel from the room, the alcohol clearing from his mind a little at the encounter. “Huh.” He muttered again, letting his hand drop.
Tagging: @thewhiterabbit42 @nobodys-baby-now @unleashthemidnight @sumara62 @clockworkmorningglory @crowleys-poppet-queen-of-assgard @whinywingedwinchester @chelsea072498 @sakurablossom4 @galaxiesinmymind @stay-frosty-royal-unicorn @keepingcalmisoverratedgoddamnit 
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hentaihunblog-blog · 6 years
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Adult Anime That Are Strictly Targeted For 18+ – OtakuKart
New Post has been published on https://hentaihun.com/blog/2017/12/20/adult-anime-that-are-strictly-targeted-for-18-otakukart/
Adult Anime That Are Strictly Targeted For 18+ – OtakuKart
Today we will be listing top 10 (18+) anime to watch, the anime usually airs after 10 PM at night when kids are asleep. These are Adult Anime That Are Strictly Targeted For 18+
Let’s begin without any further delay.
10. Highschool DxD-
The story follows Issei Hyodo, a dim-witted, lecherous second-year high school student who is killed by a girl on his first date ever. Issei is reincarnated as a devil, and from that day forward, he serves as an underling of Rias Gremory, a high-level devil who is also the prettiest girl on Issei’s campus.
9. Citrus-
Yuzu Aihara, a fashionable, spontaneous and fun-loving city-girl, transfers to a new neighborhood and high-school after the remarriage of her mother. More preoccupied with boys and shopping than studying, Yuzu struggles to fit in at the conservative girls’ school and frequently clashes with the student council—specifically Mei Aihara, the hard-working, beautiful but cold student council president. As it turns out, Mei happens to be Yuzu’s new step-sister and Yuzu finds herself having to share a bedroom with a girl she absolutely can’t stand. The series follows the evolution of the relationship between the two girls, with the animosity slowly lessening as the two begin to learn more about each other and confusion growing as Yuzu discovers that she is starting to develop romantic feelings for her new sibling.
8. Maria The Virgin Witch-
Set in France during the Hundred Years’ War, it follows Maria, who is one of the most powerful witches of her era. She intervenes against the warring nations by using her succubus and incubus familiars to manipulate the opposing factions, as well as large-scale illusions, all for the sake of helping the people and maintaining peace. As a result, she has gained the appreciation of several villagers and the hostility of the Church, which considers her a heretic. Yet Maria is still a virgin and her own familiars tease her about it. As news of her actions spreads, Archangel Michael focuses on Maria and rejects her interference in human affairs. After a direct confrontation, Michael ultimately decides that Maria will lose her magical powers if she loses her virginity and also forbids her from publicly using magic, sending an angel called Ezekiel to oversee this decree.
7. Shirobako-
The story follows a group of five best friends, Aoi Miyamori, Ema Yasuhara, Shizuka Sakaki, Misa Tōdō, and Midori Imai, who all go into the anime industry after their experiences in the animation club of their high school, with the dream of working on an actual anime together one day.
6. Hatena Illusion- 
Ever since watching a magic show held by him and his wife Maeve, Makoto Shiranui has always admired Mamoru Hoshisato—a world-class magician, as well as friend of his parents—and came to Tokyo to become his apprentice. Kana, nicknamed Hatena, is the couple’s daughter and his childhood friend. As the hustle and bustle activities in Tokyo catches Makoto off guard such as burglaries by a beautiful thief, he depends on Hatena’s comforting side. When he came to Hoshisato’s now-haunted mansion to reunite with his childhood friend, he is greeted by the family’s butler and maid, Jeeves and Emma along with Hatena, only to discover that they are not as compatible anymore.
5. Osake wa Fuufu ni Natte Kara-
Chisato Mizusawa is a reserved but excellent and pretty assistant manager in her company. She has a secret that only her husband Sora knows, which is that she likes drinking alcohol, and she can become very cute when she is drunk! Even tonight, she gets relaxed (with the phrase “Shifuku~”) and drunk with the cocktail Sora makes♥. It’s a “Yoidere (Drunken Dere)” cocktail comedy of Japan’s closest husband and wife.
4. Kokuhaku Jikkou Iinkai-
Love is blooming at Sakuragaoka High School. Natsuki Enomoto has finally mustered the courage to confess to her childhood friend, Yuu Setoguchi. However, in the final moments of her confession, an embarrassed Natsuki passes it off as a “practice confession.” Oblivious to her true feelings and struggling with his own, Yuu promises to support Natsuki in her quest for love. While Natsuki deals with her failed confession, fellow classmate Koyuki Ayase struggles with his own feelings for Natsuki. Despite his timidness, he is determined to win over her heart.Zutto Mae Kara Suki deshita.: Kokuhaku Jikkou Iinkai follows Natsuki as she dreams of one day ending her practices and genuinely confessing to Yuu. Meanwhile, close friends also find themselves entangled in their own webs of unrequited love and unspoken affections.
3.My Girlfriend is Shobitch
Haruka Shinozaki confesses to beautiful, diligent class representative Akiho Kousaka. Kousaka takes dating as seriously as she does everything else, but does not quite get it. She pragmatically suggests activities that are too sexual.
2. Queen’s Blade: Unlimited-
Queen’s Blade began life as a series of ecchi, fantasy-themed series. The first two TV series was released on home video in North America, while the 3rd TV series and the OAVs were released by Sentai Filmworks.
1. Overlord 2-
The final hour of the popular virtual reality game Yggdrasil has come. However, Momonga, a powerful wizard and master of the dark guild Ainz Ooal Gown, decides to spend his last few moments in the game as the servers begin to shut down. To his surprise, despite the clock has struck midnight, Momonga is still fully conscious as his character and, moreover, the non-player characters appear to have developed personalities of their own!Confronted with this abnormal situation, Momonga commands his loyal servants to help him investigate and take control of this new world, with the hopes of figuring out what has caused this development and if there may be others in the same predicament.
Which series is your fav?Lemme hear you guys out in the comments or you can get connected with me on Snapchat-Vibsz16 and Instagram. Stay tuned.
Best Anime Movies To Watch
Looking for some Marvelous Anime movie? I have got you some astonishing hand-picked collection of the movie. Here is a list of  Top 10 Best Anime Movies You Must Watch.So without any further delay let’s start with our Top 10 Anime Movie List
Top 10 Best Anime Movies Of All Time
10.Patlabor: The Movie (1989)
Many of the films on this list are here because they’re landmark films for their directors, or that they move the art form of Japanese animation forward in meaningful ways. Patlabor is just a good-ass movie made by a bunch of talented people, including future Ghost in the Shell collaborators Mamoru Oshii and I.G Tatsunoko (the early name for the production company that would become Production I.G). Set in the distant future of 1999, Patlabor’s hardboiled sci-fi police procedural explores the connection between humanity and technology, and how we approach law enforcement in an age of automation. Also, this list would otherwise be sorely lacking in giant mech movies – this film has them in spades, and they fight a bunch. It’s pretty cool.
9.The Girl Who Leapt Through Time (2006)
Studio Ghibli commissioned director Mamoru Hosoda to make Howl’s Moving Castle, but sent him packing after rejecting his initial concepts. Hosoda then turned around and directed The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, an abounding and inventive dramedy that’s as entertaining as it is thought-provoking. Based on a novel by Yasutaka Tsutsui, the film follows high schooler Makoto Konno as she learns that she has the power to quite literally leap through time. First, she uses these powers to get good grades, but she quickly learns that her actions have consequences. It’s a wildly imaginative slice of life and marked the emergence of an important voice in animated films.
8.Your Name (2016)
Since the release of his first short film Voices of a Distant Star (which he wrote, directed, and animated by himself over seven months), Makoto Shinkai has been described by multiple critics as the next Hayao Miyazaki. With his most recent film Your Name. (yes, the period is part of the title), Shinkai finally steps out steps out of the shadows of the greats and finds his own voice. To describe it as a mere body-swapping film does it a great disservice, as it finds the humor and humanity in a situation where two young high schoolers find themselves in each others shoes and desperately want to find each other. But then, Shinkai pulls the rug out from under you halfway through and Your Name. turns into a different kind of film entirely.
7…..
CONT READING…
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howardlinkedin · 7 years
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Group Project: Part 4
Running Title: Group Project. Part 4 Part 3: Here Part 5:  Here Sequel to Shelter Summary: Link starts a food fight and Cross is really good at his job, but at the same time isn’t. Featuring: Phantom Thief G and how Kanda went to the dogs. 
The second time little Timothy tried to help his Papa bake, he dropped the entire bag of flour on the kitchen floor.
Link took one glance at his son, who was near to tears, to the pile of white on the floor and smeared a handful of flour all over the boy’s face.  
Lala wandered in then, taking in the scene of her stunned little brother and the floor, to her Papa, and started laughing.
“Shut up!” Timothy retaliated by throwing an egg at his sister, which crunched right onto her front.
Silence.
Lala reached for the milk.
---
Daisya Barry gaped at his youngest brother, mouth full of potato chips.
Kanda, who was scowling up at him, thought his brother looked damn disgusting. “Swallow your food idiot.”
Quickly, Daisya gulped down the half eaten chips and wiped the salt from his face with his hand. The young teen scowled further. Use a napkin, damnit!
Noise, like the archangel he was, rounded the corner and shoved a paper towel in his brother’s stunned face, and continued on his way. Thank fuck for Noise Marie, Kanda thought.
“Wait, wait. So you want me. ME.” Daisya pointed to himself in reiteration. “To help you get a job?”
At 14, Kanda Yuu was a lanky, awkward teenager. And like every teenager, he came to the point where he wanted money of his own. He let out a “che” and turned his usual glare on full force.
“Yes.” He gritted through his teeth.
“Holy shit, you’ve never asked me for anything!”
“Never mind.”
“NO WAIT COME BACK!”
---
The red haired Colonel was in the cafe again.
Since Anita was working the counter that morning, and there were no other customers at the moment, Cross decided to make himself more late to work than usual and strike up conversation. Chaoji wiped down the same table for the fifth time, staring arrows into the man’s back, while his aunt laughed at whatever flirty nonsense the officer was saying.
He just didn’t see it. What it was about the man that stuck his aunt’s fancy so much.
There had been others. Men who held themselves the same way, sultry smiles and arrogant words, that tried to get Anita’s lovely attention. Only for her to dismiss them without so much as a hello, and the men were left with ice burn on their ego and pride.
Yet here he is. Always barging in on his phone, rough voiced and obstinate. He never left tips, and was out like a whirlwind (usually).
“Come over for dinner.” Anita offered, adding more coffee to the man’s mug. Her voice filled with that hum she always got when she was particularly interested at something.
The nephew walked into the next table, “What?!” he squawked.
Marian, ignoring the young man and his crisis, grinned, salacious and downright lewd. “Alright. I’ll bring the wine, Madam.”  He always called her Madam when flirting. Anita seemed to like it, as she practically glowed under the attention. To be fair, the Colonel also basked in her attention as well.
Taking his coffee, Cross bowed and bid farewell. “Until tonight.”
Once he left, Chaoji hissed at his aunt. “Just what do you see in that guy?”
“Oh Chao.” His Aunt sighed, giving him a look as though he had missed something important. “You simply don’t know him like I do.”
The nephew made a face at the nickname, and squinted at his aunt. “How long have you known him anyway? When did you two even meet?”
Anita tapped her chin in thought. “Oh, a few years.”
“He arrested me once!” She actually sounded damn pleased at the statement.
“WHAT?”
---
Hours later, after an interview, Allen came back to their temporary home-away-from-home to the sight of his family covered in food, eating cereal at the counter.
“Man, I miss all the fun.” He lamented, as though being a singing sensation and performing live for adoring fan’s was bread crumbs compared to a food fight with his family.
Lala, who was closest to him, smeared her frosting stained had over his cheek. “Welcome home Daddy.”
The young father suddenly had stars in his eyes as he practically vibrated with delight. “Link-”
“Yes?”
“Link, I’m Daddy!”
“I heard.”
“Papa and Daddy!”
Link ignored his ecstatic husband while their son gave Allen a look that clearly said ‘I think you are a really weird adult.’
---
“Lala’s a music box.” Allen whispered to Link during the night.
Link put his book down, and attentively looked at his husband. The white haired musician had already told him of their son’s likeness to an organ - all high notes and enough personality to take up a room.
“She’s meant to be heard, the people around her will influence her song and they’ll be influenced by her in return.”
“Well,” The baker began, rolling to his side and crowding the musician with his arms. “Good thing she’s our daughter then.”
Allen bubbled up a laugh, heart full of joy.
Their daughter. 
---
Day’s later, Kanda Yuu became the community dog walker. Every day, after school and every morning on the weekend, the long haired youth would corral a team of dogs around the neighborhood.
It paid decent, and eventually dog owners learned he was good at training also.
Daisya, who was the manager of the Teen Community Center, took several pictures every time his brother passed by, happy, yipping puppies at his heels.
Frequently, Alma would tag along, cooing at the several dogs, who basked in the attention. They often laid on the grass of the park and let the canines lay and crawl all over them. Kanda would frown down at them and say, “Alma I’m working.”
“But they’re so cute Yuu!” They would fake pout, all a sparkle.
You’re the cute one, Kanda wanted to say, but instead he would scoff and usher the pups away. Alma would turn pink and roll around tittering, because of course. They always heard what Kanda didn’t say.
---
Once upon a time, a red haired Colonel arrested a Queen.
At 19, Anita Han was a feared name on the streets. She appeared one day, with a loyal gang of followers. They stole, vandalized, but Anita drew the line at violence against another human being.
(She grew up around violence.
As a little girl, who had become immune to fear after watching the man who was supposed to love and protect her mother, slam his fists and bruise with words. Anita despised it, but was not above using her fists to protect herself.
Only hurt if they hurt first, she taught herself.
Trust was a hollow and weak thing, when she had no one to trust but herself.)
She was the unsung Queen of the back allies. She was also young, rash, and thought she was invincible.
Anita and her team had outwitted police, chased off other gangs who tried to push their way forward, and those of her ramshackle team - her family - only grew.
Until one night, when the sky broke in a torrent of rain, Anita found herself in the middle of a gang war that became too much too soon.
Mahoja, her greatest friend, was struck by a crowbar to the head, and all Anita could see was blood and rage. With a yell, she tackled the one who hurt her friend, not noticing others rallying their way to her, intent dark and black. Her hand had just stolen the bar from her offender, and hands were a graze away from her back when it happened.
There was no thunder with the rain that night, but the gunshot that echoed seemed to make the entire ground shake beneath her feet.
“Alright, break it up.” The voice was firm, but held a mockery of boredom with inflection.
How he got to the center of the mob, Anita never could figure out, but she would always remember him as he was that night. Tall and brooding, with a cheshire grin and red, red hair that caught the rain.
“Time for angry children to go to bed.” He continued to mock, and there was a part of her that was angry at him for it, despite how distracting he was. How dare he? Who was this man to come and nose his way into her business?
Two clicks and well delivered punch to the right person, and those surrounding Anita and Mahoja fell.
Those clicks? Handcuffs.
“Hey, you’re under arrest, congratulations.”
Anita had never felt more rage burn through her heart than that moment.
---
“I am the Phantom Thief G!”
Allen, who was pattering about in his pajamas with bed head and a mug of coffee, stared at his son who was standing on top of the kitchen table. The boy had his green bed sheet tied around his shoulders and what looks like a giant blue oval markered on his forehead.
“I see.” Was all he could say, and took a sip of his morning beverage.
“Woosh!” The boy leaped off the table and began running around the borrowed suite. It may be time to consider enrolling Timothy into school, Allen thought. When did the school year start again?
His husband, always the early bird, opened the entrance door with a bag of breakfast pastries when he became witness to his sheeted child. “Why?”
“He’s the Phantom Thief G.”
Link handed the bag to his husband, who began to dig through its contents. “And what does the Phantom Thief G do?”
“I!” Little Timothy took this moment to jump on the couch and pose like a superhero. “Steal from the rich and give to the poor!”
The blonde stared at his child, wondering what made him tick, and asked, “Isn’t that Robin Hood?” Scoffing, the boy crossed his arms, obviously insulted. “He’s English, I can’t be Robin Hood. I’m French and therefore clearly am a phantom.”
Right.
“Well, Mister Phantom.” Allen waved a chocolate muffin in the air. “Come get breakfast.”
“Muffin!” Cried the boy.
Lala shuffled in, bleary eyed and groaning. “Why is he so loud every morning?”
---
At seventeen, Kanda had a Crisis.
Alma hated rings. The things got in the way of their needle work and sewing for new clothing designs.
Shit, the teen thought.
“Shit.” He cursed out loud.
“Yuu, no foul language at the dinner table.” Chided his father.
Later that evening, Kanda was a pacing stormcloud in his bedroom. Froi stood in the doorway watching his son go back and forth.
“Can I ask now?” “No!”
A minute passed. More pacing.
“Yuu, I’m going to ask.”
“Wait damnit!”
The father waited some more. Eventually, Kanda stopped his moving about and faced his wall in a teenage, angst ridden brood. “Okay, ask.”
“Yuu, what’s wrong?”
Kanda mumbled and crossed his arms. “Yuu, I can’t hear you.”
“I SAID.” The teen started, loudly. “Alma doesn’t like rings!”
Oh, Froi thought. What a dilemma for a young mind.
Daisya, being the nosey brother he was, popped his head in. “What about something different?” “Like what?!” Demanded Kanda, now glaring at the wall.
“A bracelet.” Noise offered, walking past with his nose in a book.
The Tiedoll house was quiet as the fretful teenager in love mulled over the idea. He huffed out a “che,” which Froi long learned was Kanda’s way of agreeing with something.
Wait. “Yuu. Are you going to-”
“Shut up.”
“Oh Yuu!” The father’s eyes welled with tears. How his son has grown!
“Shut up!”
---
Strapped in the back of the red haired officer’s car, which carried the scent of coffee and nicotine, Anita seethed with rage. Which, the Colonel ignored and jammed a cigarette into his mocking mouth. “Damn rain makes it impossible to get a good smoke in.”
What nonsense. What rot. Anita’s tolerance for him shrunk with every passing second. “What about Mahoja?” She demanded. Did you just leave her there to bleed out and die?
Sharp eyes looked into hers over the rearview mirror. “Your friend? Yeager carted her off to the hospital.”
She did not know who this Yeager person was, but she doubted they even did anything. They didn’t know her or her friend, these officers. Why should she believe his word?
Seeing her twisted look, the Colonel snorted and started his engine. “You like rock music?”
“No.”
“Too bad, driver is the DJ.”
Instead of music, Anita heard a phone ring. The Colonel cursed and dug his cellphone out, one had on the steering wheel. “Why the fuck are you awake?”
Anita blinked.
“Don’t you ‘quarter’ me you brat, it’s late as shit go to bed.”
What was happening?
“Yes, I’ll be home soon, what are you, my mother?”
The car jerked as the office one handedly turned a corner. Anita wondered if officers could ticket each other for reckless driving. Last she checked, driving while on the phone was against the law.
“It’s almost midnight, go the fuck to sleep. Why isn’t that boyfriend of yours getting on your ass for this?”
The car parked. Anita looked out the window and knew instantly that this was not the police station.
The Colonel hung up and tossed his phone into the passenger side. “Damn brat.”
“Brat.” Anita repeated, staring hard at the officer. What was he doing? Much more, what was he thinking on doing?
He shrugged. “My kid, he’s a brat.” He got out and opened the door. “Okay out.”
She stared at him.
The red haired man made hand motions to signal for her to move. “Let’s go, according to the bossy gremlin at home, I’m past curfew. Hup-to!”
He must be truly dumb if he believed Anita would listen to him at this point.
A door slammed open near where the police vehicle parked, and someone bellowed. “Marian what the fuck boy?”
Anita was startled, and caught sight of a small old woman, with wild gray hair and a scowl longer than a symphony. She had her boney hands on her hips, and a foot tapping impatiently.
“It’s raining piss out here, move it!” The old woman ordered as she turned to yell behind her. “Barba! Get some towels!”
Slapping his palm against his forehead, as though Anita was the one making his life difficult, he reached in quick as a sparrow and yanked the gang leader out of the backseat by the back of her shirt.
Anita kicked and began to fight. “You let me go right now you-”
Two clicks, and the handcuffs fell off her wrists; Anita as flummoxed. She gaped at the man before her, who just huffed and shoved her at the old woman. “Take care of her Mother. She’s wet.”
“I can see that idiot.” Mother spat, and proceeded to shove a warm towel over Anita’s water logged head. “Come, come, let's get you dry.”
Anita went inside, and the door closed. She heard the officer’s car leave.
“What?” Because, truly. What?
The elder woman “bah”ed ushered the younger down a hall. “Ignore him, he’s a dramatic bastard.”
---
Mother wasn’t the Colonel’s mother. She wasn’t even blood related to him. Mother was just Mother.
Morning came, and Mother’s phone rang. The old woman didn’t even bother answering, instead tossing the phone into Anita’s lap. “It’s for you.”
Weary, the female gang leader answered. “Hello?”
“Anita.”
It was Mahoja!
“Where-?” She tried to question.
Her friend cut her off, already knowing. “Hospital. A red haired officer gave me this number, saying you would answer.” At the revelation, her friend sounded just as confused and relieved as Anita felt.
---
Months later, Anita spotted the red haired Colonel leaving a corner store, a cheap can of coffee in hand.
“This damn place needs an actual cafe.”
“Quarter!” a little muffled voice demanded. Holding the Colonel's other hand was a white haired boy. The kid was stuffing his contented face with a donut.
“Yeah, yeah.” Conceded the man, crossing the street, not noticing her at all.
Maybe. Anita had thought. It’s a good time to change pace.
---
Kanda clasped the bracelet around Alma’s wrist. It was gold, with a simple embellishment at the rims.
Looking from their boyfriend to the bracelet, Alma let out a squeal and tackled him to the ground. “Yes!” They cried.
The other teen shouted, startled. “Why are you crying?!”
“I love you so much Yuu!”
Kanda did not understand why that warranted tears, but whatever. He accepted long ago that Alma liked to cry on him.
He loved them too, in any case.
---
After dinner and Chaoji conceded that Colonel Cross wasn’t entirely awful since his aunt enjoyed his company so much, the red haired man asked for Anita’s tablet.
“The brats want to meet you.”
Anita looked positively pleased. “Of course!”
Curious, Chaoji watched as the internet call was made, and a familiar face appeared on the screen.
He stuttered.
“Ah!” Exclaimed the white haired man. “Chaoji!”
“Who?” A blue haired boy poked his head under his father’s. A blonde teenager waved at them. “Hello grandfather.”
Cross’ shoulders twitched, not yet used to the title. “Hi.”
Seeing the usually suave Colonel so awkward in front of his family sent an arrow straight into Anita’s already smitten heart. She started to laugh. “I heard you wanted to meet me.”
“Ooh, she’s pretty.” The boy complimented.
Anita beamed.
“Hi Anita! I’m Allen! Thanks for taking care of this lonely old man.” His kid teased. “It’s my pleasure.”
“Little shit.” Cross seethed. “Quarter!”
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