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mycelium-menace · 4 months

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Happy holidays @yoshiintheweb !!! This is my gift to you for the @mcytblrholidayexchange. I hope you enjoy!

I saw Vampire Fwhip in your requests and got very excited, because I have been obsessed with Dracula this year. I hope you enjoy this Roseblings/Wither Rose Alliance vampire au! The playlist has songs that are vampire-coded (to me), as well as songs that just fit the vibe. The fic is epistolary like the original Dracula novel. It's sometimes serious, sometimes silly, and hopefully a lot of fun to read. Fic under the cut :)

Fwhip’s Diary, Sept. 17

So, my teeth are definitely getting sharper.

That shouldn’t be a surprise, but it’s definitely going to take some getting used to. You don’t just wake up to your teeth being different and say “Oh yeah, that’s not weird at all. Totally fine. Already adjusted to it.” Like, you don’t realize how well you know your teeth until they’re wrong. Ugh.

It is fine though… I think. We still have time before the transformation is irreversible. Between Gem and I, we’ll figure it out soon. That’s what we’ve always done.

It’ll be fine.

Right?

Gem’s Diary, Sept. 22

I finally got my hands on that book on vampire lore! Who knew the occult section of our local library would be so popular? (And to that, who even knew our local library even had an occult section??)

It has the best recipe I’ve found for a blood replacement meal for Fwhip, and this one doesn’t even need any sheep’s blood or expensive coconut water! Fwhip seems to like it pretty well too, which is an added bonus.

The rest of the book was pretty useful, beyond the basics (avoid sunlight, garlic, wolfsbane, silver, giant stakes in the heart, you name it.) It had some pretty good tips on how to slow the transformation, and of course what to do when we find the vampire who started all this.

We still don’t have any leads on said vampire, but I’m optimistic. It’s most likely they’re in this town or the next town over since they usually have to rest in their original grave during the day. Honestly it’s not surprising, all things about our local history considered...

Fwhip’s Diary, Sept. 30

We finally told Sausage. He wasn’t really buying my “sudden garlic allergy” story to begin with, and he was asking a lot of questions, so we figured we might as well let him on it instead of keeping secrets from him. And he’s taking the news pretty well actually! It turns out one of his cousins is a werewolf, which is… not quite the same thing? But his heart is in the right place.

He’s really enthusiastic about helping us with all this, which is helpful because he’s the only friend we know with a car. We want to drive to Dogwood Grove to investigate one of their graveyards. It’s the oldest one in the county, with a proper mausoleum and everything. Maybe we’ll find that vampire’s hideout and get him to turn me back. Maybe we won’t even have to use the crossbow I’m building.

Gem’s Diary, Oct. 2

This isn’t strictly related to our research, but I thought it was interesting. The author of that vampire lore compendium, X. Thorn, also wrote a book on demonology, and I was curious enough to check it out too.

Apparently Thorn was an expert on all things occult, but also just a little… weird. I suppose that comes with the territory. He wanted to summon a demon army and conquer the world. Or maybe become a demon? It wasn’t super clear by the end of the book to be perfectly honest. He was kind of obsessed with some demon called Xornoth that he wanted to summon (or maybe it was his demon-sona? it’s not really clear which of those it was, and he published these books like a hundred years ago so we can’t exactly ask him.) Incidentally, Thorn was from right here in Rivendell. I wonder if we’ll come across his name any more during our search.

Fwhip’s Diary, Oct. 3

Well, Sausage was the only friend we knew with a car. Now we’re all out of luck.

Last night we were coming back from a research trip to Dogwood Grove when a white fox ran out onto the road in front of us. Sausage swerved and luckily missed it, and his car wound up in the ditch. We’re all safe, if a bit shaken, but his car is totaled.

It’s weird… I didn’t know we had many foxes in these parts, much less arctic-looking foxes? I mean, I guess that’s not the absolute weirdest thing about this town (I’m literally turning into a vampire right now), but it’s still unusual.

In any case, we need to figure out a new ride soon. The recipe Gem found for substitute blood is fine, but I’m starting to get thirstier. A lot thirstier...

Gem’s Diary, Oct. 5

I’ve noticed Fwhip isn’t sleeping much anymore.

He stays up most of the day when we’re doing our research, although he can’t go outside without SPF 1000 and my old floppy beach hat. At night I usually find him in the garage working on his inventions. He’s always been a gearhead, but he only ever throws himself into his work to this extent when something is seriously bothering him. When I ask him how he’s taking all this he insists he’s fine, but… well, I’ve known him my whole life. I know when he’s lying.

There have been a couple recent incidents at night when I wake up in the small hours to find him standing at the bedroom window just staring. I call out to him, but he doesn’t hear me. It seems like he’s sleepwalking, which is something he’s never done our whole lives. After a few minutes he turns, looks at me with eyes that look right through me, and silently goes back downstairs. I ask him about it in the morning but he doesn’t remember any of it.

Fwhip’s Diary, Oct. 9

Good news, we found someone with a car who’s willing to help us get around! Bad news, it’s Sausage’s cousin… the werewolf.

Gem’s Diary, Oct. 9

Don’t get me wrong, Pearl seems really nice, and I’d probably get along with her great in any other circumstance. The problem is, well, the circumstance. I guess vampires and werewolves don’t exactly get along? It’s hard to describe the feeling I get around her, but I’m just so uneasy. I mean, for her part she’s polite to me, even if she might feel the same as I do.

I guess it’s good to have her on the team, and anyone to help us fight the vampire who turned me is good to have along. I just don’t want to have her around any more than we need to for right now. I’ll talk to Gem about that in the morning when she wakes up, hopefully she’s on the same page as me.

Pearl is the coolest person I think I’ve ever met. She has a van called Gilda that’s covered in sunflowers, she lives on a farm, she’s a classically-trained fencer, and she’s a werewolf?! I love her. I want her to join our group and also stay forever.

Fwhip’s Diary, Oct. 13

Gem found something in one of the books about hypnotism, and we decided to give it a try. It’s supposed to help slow the transformation process, which would be good because I feel less and less like myself every day.

The thing is, when I was in the trance I kept getting these visions. There were shapes I couldn’t make out at first, and a smell of somewhere damp and musty, and the sound of stone on stone. But then I saw myself standing in a cemetery, right in front of an old mausoleum. There was an angel statue next to it which was pointing at the doorway, and a great big oak tree behind it. I really get the feeling that I’ve seen this before. I just can’t remember where.

I’m not really sure if the hypnotism is working to hold off the transformation. My teeth – fangs, really – are sharper than ever before. And last night I dreamed I was flying through the night sky on dark wings. At least, I hope it was a dream.

Gem’s Diary, Oct. 18

We found the mausoleum from Fwhip’s vision! And get this, the family it belongs to? The Thorn family. That’s right, the same X. Thorn who wrote all those occult books. Somehow I knew he would come back up.

I did some more reading, and it looks like Thorn had a half-brother named Scott. Scott was actually one of Rivendell’s mayors, and he and his brother had a couple of public clashes that led to him stepping down from his mayoral seat. Then a few years later, he just apparently disappeared without a trace. In one of his last journal entries before his disappearance, he lists a bunch of symptoms eerily similar to vampirism: aversion to sunlight, sudden allergies to nightshade-family plants, and he couldn’t bring himself to enter the cathedral he had once attended regularly. If I’m right that Thorn was behind those incidents, we may have a solid lead. I’m going to see if I can find a picture of him to show Fwhip. That may help to confirm it.

I think we’re getting very close. I just hope we’re quick enough.

Fwhip’s Diary, Oct. 18

As soon as Gem showed me a portrait of X. Thorn, I knew that was who we’re after. It was just an old painting, but it sent a chill down my entire body. I would know that face anywhere. That’s the face that keeps me up at night. Those were the eyes I saw that night. The eyes of Xornoth, Dark Lord of the Night.

I know what we have to do now. Even if it destroys me, which the books say is about a 50/50 chance, we have to stop Xornoth for good.

I won’t let this happen to anyone else.

Gem’s Diary, Oct. 27

I’m starting to agree with Fwhip about garlic to be honest. We just had to buy, like so much. Garlic cloves, garlic flowers, garlic salt, garlic powder. It’s all for the binding ritual, which will hopefully go off without a hitch and get Fwhip back to normal without complications.

With the garlic, we have everything we should need now. Fwhip has his contraptions, I have the charged crystals, and Sausage got us some holy water. The only thing now is to wait for the next full moon.

Fwhip’s Diary, Nov. 6

Tonight was the night. It took a while for us to prepare everything, but we finished right before dusk. We all waited just outside the mausoleum door until we heard the scraping of stone against stone. Not long after, we heard an unearthly growl. That was our cue.

We found him trapped in the binding circle, spitting and hissing. When he saw us there, he got quiet for a second, and then started to laugh. This is the part I’d like to say that we were super cool and didn’t cower at all… and you know what? This is MY diary, and I want to keep my cool image. So yeah, we were like, “Hey Xornoth, turn me back into a human NOW or else we’ll send you back to your grave.” And he was like, “Oh no, please spare me! You’re too cool and that crossbow is super sick and-”

Gem’s Diary, Nov. 6

That’s not what happened.

Fwhip’s Diary

Yes, it totally is!

Gem’s Diary

Oh my god.

Fwhip’s Diary

Alright then, how would you tell it?

Gem’s Diary

Sausage screamed and your voice cracked when you were trying to confront Xornoth. And then he laughed at you. Pearl had to be the one to force him into starting the ritual to turn you back.

Fwhip’s Diary

Well, you also screamed.

Gem’s Diary

I’m not denying that! I’m just trying to keep you to the facts. Geez.

Fwhip’s Diary

In any case, the process worked! I have a reflection in the mirror again, and my teeth are slowly going back to normal. And we managed to banish Xornoth, or Thorn, or whatever you want to call him, back to his grave for good. A win all around, I’d say!

The one thing left that’s bothering me is, I think we’re missing one of the vials of blood replacement from the fridge. Gem was meticulous when she made those, with a date labeled on each vial so we could track my intake. The only other people who knew about those are Sausage and Pearl, and both of them swore they didn’t touch it. I just hope no one drank it. It has nasty consequences if you’re not already a vampire.

Well, that’s a problem for another day. At least we know none of our friends were dumb enough to drink it, right?

...

Sausage’s Diary, Nov. 7

I’M A VAMPIRE NOW??? THIS IS SO AWESOME!!!!1!! I CAN’T WAIT TO SHOW PEARL!!! :D

#dawn writes

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ace-the-fox · 5 months

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If your ocs will go to Luna Nova what will they study?

I'm honestly not too sure how to answer this bc it's such a vague question for someone who has so many OCs lol (/nm). But, I'll try...

If we're going with original OCs, there are a few, like, non-fandom based ones I've been thinking of. They're all from a plot bunny I've had for over a year, about two li'l southern USA kids from the 80s who summon a demon... fun! :D

In the original, Noah Anderson is a wee farmboy, but I'm not sure how that would translate into LWA. There probably is magical agriculture, ig. Maybe like magic cows that give rainbow milk or something lol. He does seem focused on the animals in his work though, so maybe he goes into that in this AU? Working with magical creatures and whatnot? Magical vetinary?

Ruth Black seems like the kinda girl who'd research deities or astrology (and totally is not secretly doing black magic and demonology what are you talking about lol—)

Isiah Woodlock is the class clown and entertainer of his high school as is. I can see him going down the road of Chariot and Akko and going into magic shows.

For Mark Halls, I was trying to figure out how him being into sports (AKA good ol' murican football) would translate, and then I remembered American football exists so... Yeah. That.

And finally, my girl Mary-Anne Briar might go into magical textiles/fashion or something like that. Magically enhanced clothing. There is no in-universe translation for it as a hobby, so that's what we're going with!

#lwa #little witch academia #ocs #original characters #my beloveds #need to give them a full post #so sorry this took so long - been busy ;

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nemo-of-house-hamartia · 5 days

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Hi Nemo!! For your ask: 2, 12, 19, and 24❤️❤️❤️❤️

HELLO HELLO TK!

welcome welcome, and thank you for your ask! <3

So, lemme answer you right away! :D

2) A character whose POV you’re currently exploring

Well, considering the giga hyperfocus for Baldur's Gate 3 that has taken me recently, I am currently trying to explore the POVs of Aranea and Azriel. I don't truly plan on writing anything substantial with them (ah, last famous words lol), but writing down in their POV is helping me shape them and also hear their "voices", so that writing dialogues can become as easy as transcribing my own dictation! :)

12) A trope you’re really into right now

Uhm, I would say that recently I have been having my own fun with the whole trope of "Magic always Comes with a Price". One thing I always ALWAYS love to explore with my OCs and their loved ones is the fact that, whenever they do something to obtain what they want/need, there is always a price to pay for it, and that price would DEFINITELY put them in a pickle.

19) The most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

One of the most interesting topic I researched for a fic would definitely be anything connected to Demonology. It all started when I was in middle school, and we were studying Dante's Divina Commedia (to this day, one of my favourite books). From there, I jumped into "Paradise Lost" and "Paradise Found" by John Milton and then "The Lesser Key of Solomon", while also expanding and researching the whole concept of Demons in various other religions. It was truly interesting. It's also very good material for all my Supernatural AUs, and it's coming particularly in hand now that I am working with both Azriel and Aranea (See, this is what happens when you send your children to Catholic School with nuns! 😂😂😂). Another topic that I ABSOLUTELY adored studying for a fic was about the Silk Roads and the Ancient Trade Routes that basically connected the entire old Eurasian Continent and how they contributed to the import and export of SO MANY THINGS. (and for this, I need to thank my time in Saudi Arabia and the chance I had to visit museums about the Golden Age of Islam. It helped me understand better how interconnected we all are as a civilization :) )

24) how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative?

Well, it depends. If I don't feel particularly inspired in the Writing field, then I try to still put my brain to good use and work on the designs of my characters, either researching more for them or drawing.

If I feel that I need to recharge from both drawing AND writing, then I still try to keep my brain focused on whatever I am hyperfocusing on by reading and researching what might be useful to expand on my characters' backgrounds; or, like in the case of my recent BG3 fixation, try and keep up with the lore, so that my characters make sense within the context of the game (which is also a reason as to why I haven't shared much about them yet. I want to have something well done and at least partially refined, before getting it all out :) And since I am working on 4 new characters - Aranea, Azriel, Nerynnes and Ophelia- alongside others, it's taking a bit of my time loll).

Thank you so much for your questions, TK! <3

it felt refreshing and I had so much fun answering them <3

--Nemo

#Nemo babbles #Ask game #Friends #Please do not hesitate to send others #it helps declutter the whole mess that my brain is

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amberunit04 · 1 year

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Talk Show Moving Image Production 600 word evaluation

With this project, our task was to create either a proof of concept or a fully realised Talk show inspired piece of content, meaning that it’d have to contain aspects of motifs found in talk shows, such as an interview format, a host, an audience, or a filmed/obvious cameraman present.

What made this specific project stand out from the rest in this unit was that it was a group project, meaning that you would have to actively work with other people to get your hoped-for result. A problem that arose from this was that many people dropped out from this project, including members from my original group leaving just me and Rowan. After the groups were re-organised, Tyron and Misela joined our team. This solved the low team member problem, but also caused some confusion, later in the project I had learned that members mistaken me for the team leader, this would explain why throughout the project people would mostly only come to me for information and guidance. I believe this miscommunication came from me and Rowan being the initial ones in the group, thus having a clearer perspective on the project idea. This was a fault on my part as I should’ve allowed the newer members to have a larger helping hand in the initial idea generation of the project. This role issue not only caused stress and pressure on myself , but this also affected the other teammates as I often couldn’t give clear enough answers and couldn’t organise the work, roles, and deadlines in a cohesive way.

The topic we chose to base our project around was composed of two different concepts me and Rowan discussed with our previous teammates who dropped out, that being a story based around a cult and an interview taken with a demon currently possessing a body. This was combined to create our finalised concept, that being an animation, chosen as everyone in the team enjoyed illustration and character design, mimicking the style of a cult initiation tape, showcasing the cult, its facilities, and activities as well as multiple interviews with the cult members, the cult leader and the demon inside a person who is being exorcized. The script I wrote for this project was very story heavy, so it was a hard task to be able to depict and make it easy to understand all the story elements and what was happening in each scene clearly and accurately. In my opinion, I don’t believe this was that accurately achieved in the final product, as the animation idea had to be scrapped for time. Instead, it was settled that we would create an animatic all done in our individual art styles. This sacrificed a lot of the clarity between scenes, making it hard to understand what is happening frequently in the animatic, this is down to time constraints as well as the script not being followed correctly, this is evident in multiple parts of the finalised animatic where multiple scenes, audio clips and visuals happen out of proper order or are done inaccurately.

The initial research I made in this project was around various imagery relating to and around cults, the occult and demonology. To let the group share ideas and research with each other, I created and invited everyone to participate in a collaborated Pinterest board. Looking back, I do think this was a very beneficial inclusion to our project as it helped us generate a lot of visual ideas for the project, It also was an easy way for all of us to help each other with designing certain characters, locations, logos, etc by finding visual inspirations and references that may be useful to one another. This aspect was really fun and in my opinion, the designing aspect and discussions amongst us where definitely the best part of my experience working on this project.

I believe the overall purpose of this project was to allow us to experience working as a team to create a competent piece of work, although our own project didn’t go the way it had initially been intended, I am glad I had got to experience it as I now know what to do and what not to do when it comes to group projects, it also allowed me to see the wider possibilities of work you could create within a group project, as you are within a team of people with various skills and accesses that may help create many different incredible outcomes if organised and determined enough.

Time management was a huge problem within this project as many teammates would work at different paces from each other, unintentionally slowing the project from progressing further. This could’ve been avoided is members would be given individual group roles solely based on their strengths. This was probably the biggest issue that happened during this project, however another issue that arose from this project was lack of communication. This was a common problem that occurred as the first week of the project was during half term, the second week I was off ill and the third week Misela was off sick briefly as well. This caused a lot of distance between the group and caused a lot less face to face discussion and feedback. Despite this, I still continued to communicate with my group through the group chat, this was something I did continuously throughout this project as it keeps everyone aware of where we are in the project and what needs to be done by when. However due to most of the groups communications being remote, a lot of times messages were left on read and ignored, this was disheartening and honestly quite annoying in how frequently it happened and I think its down to how everyone is the group lost interest over time due to the stress of all the work needing to be done without strict timetables or deadlines.

Overall, I am disappointed in how the final animatic turned out, as it wasn’t what I envisioned, however I am still fairly proud of how it ended up looking as well as the experience I had making it as my team were for the most part fun to work with and I experienced working in voice acting and sound creation, which I have never done before and enjoyed a whole lot to the extent that id like to further experiment with both topics in the future. If given the opportunity to change something about the project, it would definitely be to create a more definitive and useful timeline for our work process, so that we would have much less time planning and much more time storyboarding, animating and editing.

#outcome #reflectivepractice

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inhuman-obey-me · 3 years

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Jewel

Word Count: 1.9k

Description:

Lust - an uncontrolled or illicit desire or appetite.

The Avatar of Lust wants what he wants, and what he wants, he will bloody take.

[cw: violence, body horror]

"Oh, Lilu, you are just too much!" Asmodeus giggled, his hand brushing just subtly across the shoulder of the incubus across from him as he waved away the compliment he'd just received. "But please, don't let me stop you, go on."

"No, but really, it's unfair how pretty you are," one of his favorite succubi whined playfully back. "I mean, humans are so easy to seduce it's boring, but you can just walk right up to anyone you like and they'll fall for you! To have such power...oh, it's so sexy, Asmodeus." The ring of admirers around him hummed with agreement.

"A toast! To our beautiful jewel of a leader!" one cried, raising their glass.

Out of the corner of his eye, Asmo checked his reflection in one of the dark glossy tiles on the wall, making sure to position himself just so under the VIP table's lights to perfectly accent his features before responding. "Aww, thank you all. I mean, my skin does shimmer like a jewel, thanks to that rare new lotion Nevan got for me last week, but you don't have to point it out like that - after all, everyone can see that already for themselves."

And speaking of jewels, he thought, as a sparkle caught his eye from across the room, I think I see a gorgeous one right now...

Quickly, Asmo gave one of his usual flimsy excuses to flit away from the group and approached the demon who had just walked in - and, more importantly, the brooch on the demon's coat, which glimmered softly with the shine of a powerful magical gem. It was one of the most interesting things he'd seen in a long time, and he decided right then that he just had to have it.

Staring up coyly through his long eyelashes, he purred, "Well, hello there. Today's your lucky day - wouldn't you like to come join the table of the most gorgeous person here? Who are you, sweetie?"

"No thank you."

The response was curt, without even a name, as the demon declined to meet his eyes.

Asmo resisted a pout. He didn't often get such cold treatment from a stranger, and he did not like it. After all, he was the Avatar of Lust, the most beautiful demon in all the three realms. Not to mention, this lesser demon was utterly repulsive-looking! Who did this guy think he was, ignoring him this way?

But, he had a goal here and he wasn't going to give it up so easily, even if it did mean he'd have to do a bit of flirting with an absolute horror of a face.

"Oh, come on now. Why don't I get you a drink?" Determined, Asmo took the other demon's hand in his, placing a ghost of a kiss on his fingertips as he led him towards the bar.

At that moment, he noticed the ring on the demon's finger - bronze and iron, etched with intricate symbols. Very familiar intricate symbols.

Solomon. He knew about this ring, and by extension, this demon; his sorcerer friend had told him the story a long time ago. It was Solomon's very first pact, and one he regretted deeply, as he'd only made it to save a kid he'd been fond of. A lowly demon who craved the bodies and energies of effeminate young boys, targeting only weak prey, and who had once even tried to pull Beelzebub into a pact to save his own sorry skin, though thankfully Beel was smarter than to fall for the tricks of such a low-ranking demon.

Truly, Asmo's disgust for this guy just kept increasing. And the jewel kept enticing him in, glittering with magic power in the club's flashing lights. Didn't something so beautiful belong with him, rather than with this miserable rube?

For the lesser demon's part, he just sputtered a bit in surprise at Asmodeus's boldness, finding himself pulled along before he could even give a response. "Well, I guess I don't mind a free drink..."

The Avatar of Lust waved to the bartender as he nabbed a pair of seats, signaling to get them his usual "I'm flirting, don't interrupt us please" order before turning back to his new companion. "So, what's your name, handsome?" he asked with his most charming smile, suppressing the urge to vomit at having called that appalling visage handsome.

"...Ornias," the opposing demon responded carefully. "Aren't you...Asmodeus?"

"Heehee! Why, yes I am! Isn't it your lucky night?"

"...I guess." He seemed more wary than excited, to Asmo's annoyance.

Just then, the bartender slid two glasses of glowing orange drinks towards them, saving him from having to respond to the demon's lack of enthusiasm directly. "Oh, our drinks are here - the house special, Hellfirefly Sunset Demonus!" he chirped, thrusting the glass cheerfully towards the other. "Come on, let's drink!"

He quickly downed the whole glass, urging the lesser demon to do the same. "So, Ornias, why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"

Whether it was the alcohol, or simply because people always like to talk about themselves, Ornias started to relax a bit. "Well," he began proudly, "I'm an Officer of the constellation of Aquarius, and..."

He was soon on a very long monologue about himself - a monologue to which Asmodeus quickly found himself zoning out. "Oh, that's so interesting," he nodded along with feigned fascination, catching a mention of...something about strangling Aquarius men for liking Virgo women...?

Seriously, how does this guy just keep getting creepier and creepier? No wonder Solomon can't stand him, Asmo thought to himself. I thought it'd be a good idea to get him talking about himself, but this is even worse than how cold he was being earlier.

Deciding he was more than done with listening to this, Asmodeus grabbed the other demon's hands again and whisked him to the dance floor, this time saying, "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sure you didn't come to the club just to chat all night, did you? Of course you didn't! Come, dance with me!"

Unfortunately, that didn't stop Ornias at all. "Sure," he said, making some awkward steps around while trying to continue his rambling. "Anyway, so as I was saying -"

Asmo placed a finger over the annoying demon's lips and a hand on his shoulder. "Shh, hush there cutie, let's just enjoy the music and each other, shall we?" He shimmied up against his dance partner, letting his body do the work of entrancing the lesser demon so he could give his ears a break.

His peace was short-lived, though. As Ornias got more into dancing with the Avatar of Lust, it seemed some new need to try to impress him welled up inside. He blurted out, "Hey, so actually, you've heard of Solomon, right? Greatest sorcerer in the three realms, Michael's favorite, yadda yadda? He's actually a close friend of mine. I'm sure he'd make some time to meet you if I told him about you."

It took every last bit of restraint Asmodeus had to keep his eyes from rolling right out of his skull at that. He needed to speed this up fast, or he was going to lose his mind.

"Oh, would you? That's so amazing, I didn't know Solomon was friends with such an impressive demon," he replied, voice dripping with saccharine charm to hide how far he was lying through his teeth. "And you're not a bad dance partner, either. You know, you just keep getting more and more attractive...what's an Avatar of Lust to do with himself?"

Satisfied that his little name-drop seemed to have done its job, Ornias smirked and took a slight step back. "Well, thank you. You're, uh, not bad yourself."

"Oh, come on now, I live for praise. Feel free to flatter me as much as you'd like," Asmo crooned, placing his partner's hands on his waist to draw him closer again.

The lesser demon managed just a couple more compliments as his lusty companion's hands started traveling more aggressively with his dancing, tracing his lower back and shoulder blades from beneath his coat. "Mm, y-your hands are kind of cold," he stammered out as he felt the lithe fingers brushing up against his neck.

"Oh, my bad! Want to help me warm them up then?" Asmodeus giggled mischievously, resting his hands now on the ugly face in front of him instead. He drew him into eye contact, not letting the demon shy away, and continued, "Come on, you're dancing with me after all - the Avatar of Lust. It's quite the honor, you know."

He placed a light, intimate brush of his lips along his neck, and the lesser demon practically melted in his arms. "W-well...if t-that's what you want..."

"It is," he answered breathily, voice imbued with magic to carry the sensual sound to his target over the loud music of the club. "I'm all yours for tonight, just the two of us, here on this dance floor. So focus on me, okay?"

"Yes, of course..."

He leaned in close to Ornias's ear and whispered alluringly, "Now tell me, what is it that you desire?"

At last, the words he'd been waiting for fell from the annoying demon's mouth, as he could no longer resist the Avatar of Lust's charms: "Asmodeus...I want you."

Asmodeus smirked, drawing Ornias into a dark corner at the edge of the room as he batted his eyelashes with a faux sweetness.

"Why, Ornias, did you fall in love with me?"

Ornias nodded through heavy-lidded eyes, hardly able to form words as desire rapidly clouded his mind. "Yes, I...I want you..."

"Am I just to die for?" Asmo whispered into the lesser demon's ear, caressing his cheek with one hand while entwining the other around the small of his back. This close, he could feel the pounding of Ornias's heart against his own chest, like sweet music to his ears.

"Y-yes...I...would die for you...."

"Am I just to die in writhing agony for?"

"Yes, Asmodeus..."

"Good. Then die for me, darling."

Ornias gasped as suddenly a wracking pain started in his groin, which traveled quickly like venom up through his veins across his torso and throughout his whole body. Blood dripped from his eyes and mouth as Asmodeus walked clawed fingers up into his back, tearing the skin beneath his coat to ragged ribbons. With the other hand still on the lesser demon's cheek, Asmo yanked his face towards him to meet his gaze. His charm powers quickly overtook the demon's control, and before he could stop himself, he thrusted his hand deep into his own chest, pulling out the still-beating heart to hold out like a present. The Avatar of Lust let the blood run down from his lips as he sank his fangs in for a bite.

"You really are too unsightly for something this beautiful," Asmo said with a sneer.

With that, he snatched the gem off of the demon's chest and sashayed away with a cheerful hum, not sparing another glance at the convulsing form left in the corner.

"Oof! Solomon, please! I told you to be more gentle with me when you summon me! What if you bruise my beautiful body?!"

"Great, okay, it's not you," Solomon sighed with relief. "I suddenly felt one of my pacts brea-- Asmodeus, what is that you're wearing?" There was something oddly familiar about the red heart newly adorning the top of the golden scorpion that encircled the demon's torso.

"Ahahaha! Isn't it pretty?" the demon crowed happily, blood still dripping from his lips. "And it has so much power stored inside, too! It's just perfect for me, isn't it?"

"Oh, by the way," he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes, pulling a ring off his finger to toss at the sorcerer, "I took care of your Ornias problem for you."

#obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me fics #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #om! asmodeus #demons being demons #writings #mod chaos in the devildom #had fun doing demonology research for this one

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oonajaeadira · 3 years

Text

Have Any Interesting Dreams? (Thief x Locksmith 5)

Fandom: Casillero del Diablo Wine Commercials. You heard me.

Pairing: The Thief x f!reader (the locksmith)

Rating: T

Warnings: This might be confusing and I apologize for any pain it might cause.

A/N: Okay. So there’s a lot of metaphorical walking forward while looking backward here and this installment certainly won’t make any sense on its own. There are a lot of references to little moments from the commercial and to previous chapters (especially 2: I Know You Can Do It, aka the opera heist). I took a lot of threads and decided to play with them until they ended up in knots. Apologies for any clunkiness you encounter; I stretched my skills to the limits here and things kinda derailed. But eff I had fun. Hope you do too.

The extended commercial is here.

The unintended Thief x Locksmith series is here:

What Do You Want

I Know You Can Do It

Come With Me

Let Me Show You Around

Summary: It’s time to find out what your Thief wants from you, what the key is for, and you have nothing but your own smarts and his memories to light your path.

(gif by magsam)

When you arrive for breakfast, he’s already feasting on a scone with jam and cream, his plate piled generously with bacon and eggs, surrounded by a dozen covered dishes scattered all over the huge table at one end of the open hall. He hums an urgent note of acknowledgement when you approach, folding what he was reading and standing to pull out a chair for you.

“Good morning, Angel. What are you hungry for? Anything you want.”

As he pushes you into place, you scoff. “Anything I want? I doubt any of these cloches are hiding adequate answers.”

Bending over you to reach for the carafe, he places a kiss to your temple and speaks softly at your ear while he pours a cup for you, “Let’s start with coffee. Maybe some eggs.”

It’s an odd breakfast for such a sumptuous place. The plates all hold something to tempt you, nothing out of the ordinary for a breakfast you might like. But it’s all set up over what had been on the table previously--scattered blueprints and charity pamphlets, timetables and show programs, a stack of books shoved to one side, a letter opener stuck into the tabletop, spearing down the plans for this very estate. The table itself doesn’t sit in a dining room--or any room--but near the staircase into the main hall, a big open space spilling out behind your Thief littered with unhung portraits and scattered relics, the white stone figure of Pandora and her Saxon crown overseeing the procedures.

“So,” he sighs, sipping his coffee, burying his nose in a set of folded blueprints, emulating a businessman with his morning newspaper, “did you sleep well? Any...interesting dreams?”

You let out a slow breath, prepare your strategy, and take a sudden, focused interest in the pile of toast. “I slept as well as a girl can in a room decked out like a cloister on loop. The sheets are nice though. I took your suggestion about forgoing nightclothes.” You avoid his eyes but see them flick to you in your periphery. You’re not sure if it’s a reaction to the image you’ve just laid down for him or if he’s noticed that you neglected to address his inquiry about the dreams. Hopefully both. You tap the locket nestled close to your breasts. “Just the sheets and this.”

The locket. Let’s see if I can do this right.

He tries to hide a soft clearing of the throat. And fails.

You’re no dummy. You spent enough time researching alchemy and magick and demonology to know that someone under contract or pact can’t speak about it at all. Sometimes they are physically restricted, sometimes they’re given free will. But if they crack--if they willfully tell someone about their curse--they run the chance of losing everything.

However. If the human in thrall is clever, they can talk around it.

You learned last night that answers come not when you ask questions, but when you listen carefully. And you learned equally... that you must speak carefully.

“It’s nice to have a vacation for a little spell.” The spell. “Lately it’s just been a string of setting locks and the usual Tuesday afternoon visit from the cops. You realize that they won’t stop questioning me about that safe I gave you the combo for, right?” The Lewiston safe.

Pride gleams in his eyes as they lock to yours. You’re playing the game and he understands you perfectly. “I’m not apologizing for that, you acted under your own free will. Although, you’re easy to manipulate. I can read you like a book.”

And now you catch his meaning. Possibly. Not completely sure. Unfortunately, this is how it has to be--speaking in riddles and codes. He can’t tell you about it or lead you in any way. If you can guess, that’s acceptable, but there must always be some doubt. Another mortal fully knowing the details of his supernatural deal will breach it, and not in his favor.

Keep it cool, casual. “Well, I”m not so complicated that you’d need to study a whole book. Maybe just a few pages.” Your fingers play idly with the locket as you sip your coffee.

Or not so idly.

His nod is heavy, understanding, but with a hint of warning. You may have been a bit too literal with that one. Careful, his look tells you. And you spill a small, coy smile of apology over your lips. I’m doing my best.

You shrug it off. “Although, one glass of wine and I’d do whatever you ask.”

“Like Blackwell at the Opera.”

Like Blackwell at the opera. Like Blackwell at the opera. What does that mean? I’ve lost the thread. “Hm? Like--?” It must show on your face.

“Speaking of study,” he sidesteps your confusion to fall back a few paces in the conversation as he starts pulling papers and plans together into a neater pile, “why did you ever give up yours? Seems you were on a path to unlocking the great mysteries, and you gave it all up to unlock car doors and the errant bedroom handcuff?”

It’s a slap to the face that zings straight to your heart. That..was a low blow. It’s impossible to eat with your lips pressed together, so you stare hard into your coffee instead. You have half a mind to ruin everything right here. Because you killed it for me. Because you walked off with my book; that was supposed to be my trophy and my livelihood. Because you took up with a demon and got yourself wound up in something too big for you and now you’ve come pulling me out of my just-fine life to bail you out of it, you incredible ass--

A fingertip hooks itself under your chin, guiding your face to his as he stands above you. Oh God, those dark eyes, eyebrows arched in care.

It’s maddening how he can melt you with a look, how tapped in he is to your feelings, and it frustrates you how he can parent them better than you can; why they’ll listen to him over you, you’ll never quite understand.

His serious look tells you to steady yourself. That you’re strong enough for this. To look past anything he says that is hurtful and to listen. That he needs you. It’s you he...it’s you he--

“Angel.”

You love him too. And you can’t fucking help it.

He watches as you hold onto your hurt, but let go of your wrath and continues. “I just know you enjoyed your books so much. I thought maybe you’d like to visit my library while I’m gone.”

“...Gone?”

He hauls you to your feet and folds you in against himself, fanning you with the stack of blueprints. “I have a job to do. I apologize that I’ll be out all day, but lunch will be waiting here for you when you want it and Pandora,” he nods to the statue, “will be happy to keep you company. She has at least one good story to tell. I should be home by dinner.”

And now you let go of the hurt as well, follow his lead in a slow dance. He turns you, silently swaying and guiding you around to his side of the table. Just inches apart, he willfully keeps your lips free from his, although you cannot say the same for his eyes--their gaze drips over your mouth as he pulls you along.

“In the meantime,” stopping at the villa map peeking out from under the butter and jam, he indicates, “the library is here.” He doesn’t point at the location as much as stroke it...and even then, not at the middle, but off to one side near the window.

The smile spreads over your face like a slowly creeping wine stain. “And every book is stolen?”

A matching spill, this one upon his own lips. “Every book is stolen.”

A long kiss is pressed to your temple, carrying warmth and breath and closeness, conveying praise and good luck and deep gratefulness...and then he’s gone, his working shoes making no sound on the stairs on their way down to the garage.

Time to get to work.

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

The library is a hike from the main hall, but you managed to put away a good breakfast to fuel your way here. It’s exactly what you expected in a place like this--bookcases all the way up to the vaulted ceilings filled with beautifully bound volumes, two tall multi-paned windows along the outer wall framing the central fireplace, a large ornately carved table and lamp, scattered plush reading chairs. The fireplace is ample, and of course the fire is lit, waiting for you to find something worth reading and claim a warm spot nearby.

Shit. Even if he indicated a section of shelves for you to focus on, there still has to be thousands of books in this area. You’re fairly certain of what you’re looking for, but if he was smart--and he is--yourThief would have had it rebound and either left it untitled or given it one himself.

The book he stole from you was bound in black leather. You can start there. Rolling the ladder around to this side, you begin pulling out and scanning all the black leather volumes, making your way from bottom to top, an hour of nothing but first editions, old bibles, and illuminated manuscripts.

As you search, your mind churns through the dream you woke from this morning and the few clues you could give him as to what you discovered from it.

The locket. The spell. The Lewiston safe. Just a few pages. The wine.

________________

Gloved hands stretch out before you. Your hands, but not your hands. They’re sturdy, long and wide, thick fingers, making quick work of the three dials of a grey safe.

The Lewiston safe.

These are your Thief’s hands. You’re seeing what he’s already seen. You’re watching from his vantage as he uses your combo to break in.

The safe is lined with stacks of bills, a number of watch and jewelry boxes, a few gilded objects, and some large file envelopes. His hands leave all the valuables alone and sift through the envelopes, opening each until he finds one containing three leaves of folded greying paper, all of them torn on one side.

Three pages from a book. Three pages from YOUR book.

________________

No luck with the black leather books, although you’re hardly surprised.

So it’s been rebound then. To keep it hidden. But if you’re meant to find it, then it’s hidden to everyone but you. How would he make it stand out for you specifically? Think.

Scanning the shelf, your eyes are drawn here and there to those books bound in your favorite color. A preference of yours that he would know.

Once you’ve solved that piece of the puzzle, it doesn’t take long to find it. Halfway up the shelf, clinging hard to the ladder, you read spine after spine until the intentional typo catches your eye; The Book of Angel’s.

Not plural. Possessive.

Clever, my nameless Thief.

It’s wedged in tight, on an intentionally packed shelf. Remove one book and the rest will breathe and expand...and easily shift so that nobody might know that a book had been taken.

Wrenching it free and hefting the heavy volume down the ladder, your breath pulls heavy through you, your fingers tingling as they clasp the spine, growing excitement coils in your ribcage. After all these years, the book is here in your hands, the book that you spent half a life tracking down through undermarkets and whispered rumors, the book full of spells and secrets and instructions for obtaining everything you’ve ever wanted, the book you had planned to use to build yourself a better life. Only for it to be stolen from you. By the man you loved. By the man you wanted to start that better life with. The nights you spent in your bed, staring at the ceiling, planning your acquisition of this book, and then, after it was gone, the nights you spent cursing it and him….

Your fingers trace idly over the cover. The new binding is taught and slick, not soft and supple like the old black leather.

You could just ...take it. You could just tuck it in your bag and walk out and away down the forested driveway, leave him to his fate.

But he’d find you. It doesn’t end that easily. You have to break his hold on magick. Which means you have to break her hold on him. It was a spell in this book that summoned the demon, so if you’re going to help him, the answers have to be in here.

And it’s impossible to think you could just walk away and leave him to her.

Sitting on the floor by the fire and opening the book to the inside cover, the familiar family tree greets you, one you know and never gave much thought to. The name of the book’s original creators gracing the thick trunk, that family long gone, their line grown out.

There’s a smudge on one of the smallest, far-flung branches, a clan that briefly married into the root family at least a dozen generations back and then just as quickly split off. The name seems to have been scrubbed out or somehow blurred, like the ink decided to feather and bleed in just this one spot. Something tells you that you should know what the name was.

At least you have an idea of whom it might belong to.

And there, on the opposite side, another family name that dipped in and stayed at the edges….your own. It is this small vine in the tree that allows your claim on the book in any way.

He probably felt the same claim.

But there are more prominent offshoots here you never noticed until now.

Lewiston. Blackwell.

The Lewistons you know. They wanted nothing to do with the book outside of the few pages they’d stashed away, and you’ve already helped your Thief to recover those.

But Blackwell. Huh.

Like Blackwell at the opera.

Blackwell at the opera.

Blackwell is still a mystery. The dream last night had no Blackwell revelations in it, although the rest of it did take place the night of the opera...

________________

Suddenly you’re in your home. No. HE is in your home. You can just see him out of the corner of your eye in your bedroom mirror, greying temples and red velvet jacket. You see what he sees as he lays a garment box on your bed. There’s a black satin dress inside. You know, because you’ve already worn it. This is the night of the opera heist; you’re seeing his memory of it...

Then he’s at your jewelry box, delicately pushing trinkets aside until he comes out with your locket, all crystal and gold and glinting in the low light.

Coming back to the living room, he assembles objects from around your home--a few candles and matches, a kitchen knife, a glass of wine. And from his inner vest pocket he pulls the three greying pages obtained from the Lewiston safe.

One of them contains instructions. A spell.

Candles are lit. A quick altar is laid. The locket is placed among the objects. And a ceremony begins. There are words and offerings--a finger is pierced and blood drips onto your necklace and into the wine....

The dream jumps, the sun slanting much lower through your windows now, and you’re looking at...you. In your bedroom, searching your jewelry box. “Then why is there a necklace missing?” You shout and then look over your shoulder to meet your eyes...or, rather, his eyes.

Procuring the locket from his pocket, you hear his voice in your ears, “Because I want you to wear this one tonight.”

________________

And that exhausts what you could learn from the dream.

The locket. The spell. The Lewiston safe. Just a few pages. The wine. Like Blackwell at the opera.

Shit. What does this all mean? Breathe. It’s all here. Somehow it’s all here in front of you. Like deciphering the tumblers in a lock. Get everything lined up, and the puzzle will spring.

Tracing the family tree with light fingertips, you have two names. Blackwell must be the old balding man from the opera that night, the one you spilled wine on, the one your Thief marked to steal something from. A member of the old family of this book. What did he take? Unknown at this time.

Lewiston. And from their family safe your Thief took...three...pages….

You’re immediately and madly flipping through the book, looking for loose papers, remembering when you first acquired it that there had been pages missing, torn out, not uncommon for a tome this old, but as you paw your way through, you find all pages intact, nothing free or floating, no torn stubs.

That can’t be right. There had been torn pages. How--

The new binding.

Clapping the book shut and tipping it up to look at the signatures binding...there it is. Three stripes of blue distributed within the grey. Using a fingernail, you carefully discern the refreshed leaves.

Three different spells, all of them supreme level, the ones that cost blood and expect a high grade of working to cast, valuable information the Lewiston family seemed eager to keep for themselves even if they denounced the rest of the book.

One for protection against evil.

One for the manipulation of time.

And the final one…

A spell for the confluence and relay of dreams.

The locket lays heavy on your chest. He obviously charmed the pendant the night of the opera so you’d be able to see his memories and dreams, so he could give you answers and clues via this somnambulant route, a shortcut, a loophole.

A beautiful, glorious cheat.

Oh, he’s clever and wonderful and you grip the locket, pressing it to your lips, understanding now why he wants you to wear it always--even when you sleep. But.

You could try to ignore the plummet of your heart, try to brush it off and put emotion aside, but here it is…. There’s a little pain knowing he had the means that night to endow it with protection from evil and that wasn’t his first choice, that he gave it the enhancement that served his needs first and foremost.

It hurts. But then. Desperation makes us all a little selfish. You can hardly expect anything else.

________________

Pandora stares down on you with blank, white marble eyes as you take advantage of the lunch spread out on the table in the hall. Rich lobster rolls, perfectly fried chicken, a mountain of falafel and hummus, creamy tikka masala, cold sushi in a rainbow array--at least a dozen different savory offerings for you to choose from or mix and match, far too much for you to eat by yourself, but enough of everything that you might choose one and have a satisfying meal.

It was all here when you arrived, no staff to be seen.

The flowing silk dress you’re wrapped in--not one you’d packed, but one that came out of your bag anyway--the fireplaces lit in the rooms where you’ll be spending time; the house is full of mysteries, not really that surprising in a place frequented by demons and curses. You’re being provided for, no need to ask by whom or how.

No matter. There are bigger knots to untangle.

After pouring through your book and coming to a dead end, you’d brought it back to your room of saints and tucked it away in your bag for safe keeping--deciding against better judgements not to run off with it--before making the trek back down to the main hall.

Now what are you supposed to do until he comes back to dinner to give you more hints? This is maddening; you’re anxious to know what’s next. Did he really think it was going to take you all day to find the book and the answers there? You live your life walking through mental puzzles and finding the right keys for things, you’re a damn locksmith for heaven’s sake--

The key. That’s the next piece to all of this, yes? What does the little key on your necklace open? You don’t have anything to work with, but you can sure as hell start looking around and getting acquainted with the objects and doors in the house.

Determination winning out over food, you leave behind half a stuffed crepe and give Pandora a little salute before heading off down through the east wing to explore.

There’s the beautiful clock under glass--no discernable keyhole that you can see--several lacquered jewel boxes--all open, their treasures on display--music boxes, ancient instruments, intricate suits of armor, glass cases full of decorative weaponry, armoires whose keyholes are much too large stacked with furs…. You even start to look at the paintings for any signs of locks or keys, you run to your room and check the reliquaries and statuary to see if there’s something that’s been placed in your proximity, then back to the east wing to inspect doors and cabinetry, studying patterns in the tile and carpet and wallpaper, anything, anything that draws the eye to something secret, something hidden. But everywhere you turn there seems to be a possibility of mystery, that anything beautiful can be hiding a solution, and yet, none of them definitive or fruitful.

After hours of wandering the halls, fatigue starts setting in. You’re nowhere close to an answer, you don’t even know the question anymore. The villa is huge; all you need is one little crumb, anything to just point you in a direction. Any direction at all. It’s like searching for a tiny, specific needle in a haystack, except the haystack itself is made of needles.

Don’t give up, maybe check the paintings again. In the east wing hall, you find yourself squinting at the images. The light is fading, the day is late. A clock chimes somewhere from a far off room.

Speaking of crumbs….Dinner time.

Even though you’re weary from the search and walking room to room through the afternoon, you quicken your pace toward the main hall. You’ve pressed yourself hard today. Giving in to hunger and frustration, the promise of another meal and more information waits.

The table is almost as you left it--covered in food and blueprints. The blueprints are the same, but the offerings sitting atop them are new. Beef Wellington, beet and truffle salads, Lobster Thermidor, stuffed dates, paella, soft patés and cheeses, the flatware is gold, there’s a massive candelabra, wine of every color, the table is almost overstuffed with beautiful and delicious delights, almost as if it is consciously making up for the one thing that’s disappointingly missing….

Him.

Okay, so he’s a little late. He’s most likely changing clothes and since you happened upon the table first, the food is waiting and ready for you. You can start without him, right? A well-timed rumble from your gut gives you permission and you reach for the serving spoons.

By the time your plate is almost empty, so is a second glass of wine.

And his chair is still unoccupied.

You’re lightly pressing the back of a golden spoon to your lips while you fume, every once in a while turning it and putting it in your mouth to tongue at the smooth, tasteless metal even though you really feel the urge to throw it.

It’s not even that he isn’t here to guide you to the next step, it’s that he isn’t here, period. The miles of walking, the mental work, nothing to keep you company but the echoing click of your shoes on endless tile and the snap of flames in a few fireplaces; really what you yearn to do is hole up in that little sitting room you saw last night, forget all this, curl up in his lap by that pleasant mantle, after spending a day in cavernous rooms and halls, just to have a warm corner in close proximity to broad shoulders and big arms, a soft cheek on your forehead….

Tossing the spoon down and replacing it with something crunchy from one of the salads, you bite hard into the snap of the vegetable, no longer hungry, but feeling the need to clench your teeth into something.

What are you even doing here? If he wants you to help him, he could at least give you the gift of his company.

“How dare he. How dare he, Pandora?” Leaning a cheek in your hand, chewing on the veg, you whine up at your dinner companion as she gazes blandly down at the table, not even having the decency to give you any indication of empathy or pity.

You contemplate the statue with misdirected irritation. Feh. She looks so calm. Should she? Didn’t Pandora let all the evils of the world out of her box? Shouldn’t she be more ashamed? Dismayed? Perhaps she’s comforted by the hope she found at the bottom--

Pandora will be happy to keep you company. She has at least one good story to tell.

You stop mid-crunch, his words from last night lighting up your synapses like a starfield.

Pandora. Best friend I have in the house. Good listener. Has full dominion over the main hall. Holds things for me. Not many people trust her after the whole loosing evils unto the world thing, but she can’t get into much trouble out here. Keep mysterious boxes out of her reach and no secrets should tumble out, am I right, Pandora?

You drop the veg and take one last desperate draining draw from the wine glass as you scramble to rise, presenting yourself in front of the girl, gawking stupidly. Why didn’t you notice it before? A statue of a beautiful woman, gesturing with delicate open palms, wearing the crown that your Thief has bestowed upon her. She could be anyone, any goddess or myth, any queen or muse. You would only know her as Pandora by her signature box of evils.

But her hands...are empty.

What would a box of evils look like?

Would it fit in her hand, thumb crooked delicately around an object that was not there?

Would it be patterned gold to match her crown?

Could it possibly have a porcelain top painted with devils?

You’re crossing the hall to the frosted glass doors without telling your feet where to go. The cozy sitting room is overwarm with the fire blazing in the hearth, the mantle still piled with books and little objects, but your eyes and fingers go instantly to the only one that matters.

As you pick up the ornate jewel box, a light burning sensation pinches at the nape of your neck and you turn to the doors, expecting to see your Thief’s eyes boring into you again. But the threshold is empty, the firelight reflecting off the glass.

The little box in your hands doesn’t open. Because it is locked. The keyhole is tiny, set in a pretty filigree circle on the front.

Reaching up behind your neck, your fingers fall on the clasp of your necklace and the delicate key there, warm, as if it had been hanging by the fire.

Or...magically telling you that it is in proximity to its lock.

Fumbling with the clasp, swearing at your shaking fingers as you work to remove the chain, you finally get the key inserted. And twist.

You’re not sure what you expected to find inside. But it certainly wasn’t this.

Sitting down in the chair by the fire, you stare at the little box and try to make sense of the contents. You’ve gathered that he gave this key to you to hide it away from the demon, that she was out in the world looking for it, meaning the box it opens is precious to her, that there must be some heavy spell on the container that she could not in all her demonic influence open it without this one key.

Rings. The box contains at least a dozen, crammed in, a jumble of gold and silver, each of them set with some large, chunky, precious gem. A ruby here, a sapphire there, sparkling, well cared for….but, at the end of the day, just...just rings.

This is what she is hell-bent on recovering? Why? Think. Think. They must be enchanted. Or cursed. You’re smart enough not to touch them, not to try them on as much as you’d like to, to festoon your fingers with their chunky sparkle. Instead, you close the lid of the delicate box and contemplate the painting on it, the demons dancing in their hellfire. You can guess at the rings’ significance all you want, but you need more information...and your mind is exhausted.

And you’ve had a couple glasses of wine.

And it’s very warm in here.

And it’s easy to doze off.

_______________

From his eyes, you can see yourself, resplendent in black satin, sitting next to him in the opera box, the hum of an audience at intermission buzzing around you both, the chandelier light playing on your hair....and you’re PISSED. Do your eyes always spark fire like this when you’re irritated? You’re terrifying and, you have to admit, the fury makes you beautiful.

“You little shit. You brought me on a HEIST? I cannot. Believe you. Right now.” You close your eyes in a huff, trying to calm yourself.

And when you do….

His hands reach out and deftly spring the clasp on your necklace, lifting it away from your breast. You don’t even notice because he reaches out at the same time to poke your earring playfully and set it swinging.

“I know you can do it.”

From here, behind his eyes, you see the next few minutes play out. How he sends you off with a glass of wine, watches from behind his opera glasses as you make a scene with it in the front row, spilling it all over the older balding man. Then the thief is up and moving to the lobby, waiting patiently at the men’s toilet, catching your eye and giving you a wink just before he follows a gaggling group of red-jacketed valets ushering the wine-soaked man into the privy.

This is the part you didn’t get to witness that night.

As the valets swirl around the man, doing their best to dry and placate him, your Thief reaches into his own pocket and retrieves your necklace, slipping the tiny key into the locket and giving it three swift cranks, its exquisite gears spinning within its crystal housing….

And time...slows...to an ooze….

Everything happens incrementally. The hurried valets now taking an eternity to blink, their flapping hands reduced from butterflies flitting about to snails trailing heavy through the air, but your Thief’s capable hands move at their normal pace, reach out and cup the man’s face and he mumbles some Goetian words you don’t quite catch.

The balding man startles, coming into time and, noticing the thief now, settles into recognition. “You.”

“Hello, Blackwell. Don’t have a lot of time, even if it is slower. Try not to move too much. You know what’s happening here?”

Blackwell’s eyes dart around as the thief lets him go, assessing first the situation, then your man in front of him, regarding the thief with a mixture of apprehension and spite. “What do you want from me? I’ve got nothing left to teach you, you selfish--”

“Shhh. I’m here to give you a present.”

This raises a scoff from Blackwell, trying not to let it rock him on his feet as a towel in a valet’s hand continues to drift minutely closer to his wine-soaked chest. “Something you stole, no doubt.”

“Of course.”

The thief is looking at Blackwell. You can’t see what he’s holding in his hand.

But his companion can. The man’s eyes round out and his sneer slides off his face. “That’s...that’s my…”

“I’ve been watching you, Blackwell. You must be counting your remaining days, trying to get in good with the choirs upstairs, taking all that mysteriously acquired wealth of yours and spreading it around, anonymous relief funds, scholarships, medicinal research and degenerative disease eradication. Generous. You’ve been busy.”

The man’s eyes begin to well as your Thief recounts all of this in his most soothing, sonorous tone. A tear spills over and runs down Blackwell’s doughy cheek before dripping off his chin and barely missing the hand of the valet, now nearly in contact with the wine stain dampening his shirt. “Thank you,” he whimpers, “oh, God, thank you.”

“God has nothing to do with this. Now listen. I give you back your soul and my debt to you is paid. But it also means your contract with her is broken. You know what that might mean. You still want it?”

Blackwell goes to nod, but remembers just in time not to move too much. The valets are still crawling through time around them, still moving in micro beats but starting to gain more speed now. Best not to cause a blur by moving too fast for them to see.

“I understand. I want it,” the man swallows thickly, trying not to sob. “But...you could just let me suffer. Why are you...doing this?”

“Because,” the thief looks down at the ring he holds in his palm, gold, the older man’s soul looking for all the world like a large, rectangular emerald, “I’m hoping someone will do the same for me.”

As the scene around them slides back into time--a slow stretch followed by a gradual quickening and then a snap, the same momentum as the next tear that stretches from Blackwell’s jaw before breaking free--sound pops back to rights and the red-jacketed men are swirling around the balding man, patting and blotting and apologizing, but his eyes are still locked to yours, that is, to your Thief’s.

The man you love holds up the ring, putting on his best impression of opera quality service. “Sir, I believe you dropped this.”

Blackwell nods with shaky breath, just barely choking back a cry. “I thank you.”

From here, your Thief makes his way back to the box seats, taking off his red velvet jacket and leaving it on a bannister along the way. By the time he returns to you, the second half of the opera has started. But he hangs back for three, four songs in the shadow of the curtain. He doesn't even look toward the stage.

He simply watches you.

As a casual observer to this purely sensory memory, you can’t know what he’s thinking, can’t feel what he’s feeling, but you can see what he sees and what his eyes follow is the line of your neck, the curve of your ear, the bounce of light off your shoulders.

Finally, after making his way around and taking his seat closer to the stage, he runs a finger around your ear, pushing a lock of hair back into place, tapping the earring to set it swinging again.

Your eyes are so transparent, a straight window to your heart as he bends a knuckle under your chin to take you in. He watches as your mouth curls in a whisper, “Get what you wanted?”

“For now.”

“I can’t believe you made me do that. You could have hired anyone else. Someone more savvy.”

“It had to be you,” he whispers, and, as it had lately happened in the men’s room, time comes to a grind, just as your brows lower and your lips come into a pout.

You watch now from behind your love’s eyes as he reaches up and quickly returns the necklace to its home hanging just above your cleavage, its elegant gears glinting in the low light as they spin out the time.

He doesn’t bring you out of it with his Goetic words, doesn’t do anything but drag fingertips lovingly down your cheek before settling in for long minutes of stretched time, using the stolen moment to be still and study you from this angle, the stage lights making a soft spectacle of your features, keeping his gaze trailing over nothing but you, you, you until everything finally slides back into his momentum.

You cannot tell what he’s thinking or feel what he’s feeling.

But you have a good guess.

________________

It’s disorienting, having just come from his eyes as he surveys you in the dark opera box to being back behind your own as they open, finding him lounging in the stuffed chair across the fire from you.

“Sorry I was late,” he says sweetly, his smile soft, but his gaze drilling into you. “Have any interesting dreams?”

Everything comes rushing in as you take up the little box in your lap, scrambling to open the lid and jingle the rings around, looking for….looking for…which one? Which one was it? A flash from your own memory, the night the demon took him...

The malicious curl of her red velvet lips. The winding of her other arm as it comes from between them and around him, a finger now bearing a ring with a russet stone.

The jewels rattle and glint in the box, but no sign of that particular stone. No. No. It’s not here. It’s not here. “Dammit, it’s not here!”

“Shhhh. I know.” Sitting calmly in his cozy chair by the fire, he stills you with a small, sad smile. Lifting his fist and opening it, your locket tumbles out, yanking to a stop on its chain that’s looped around a finger. “I believe you dropped this, my brilliant Angel.”

You’d taken it off to unlock the box...it must have slipped off your lap as you slept. But he’s not admonishing you for it.

He’s summoning you to come and take it back.

Leaving the demon’s jewel box behind and crossing the distance between your chairs, you slide yourself gracefully onto his lap, knees clamping around his hips, arms around his shoulders, shivering a little as he feathers his hands around your neck to replace your trinket. “I thank you.”

His sable eyes flash when you echo the dialogue from the memory. Then they dance for you as you run the clasp around on its chain to fit the key into the locket. He smiles broadly as you twist--once, twice, three times--a smile that broadcasts how proud he is of you, a smile that suspends as the flames in the fireplace slow to a sliding glow, a smile you indulgently kiss four times while he can’t get away from you.

Once, for imbuing the locket with the ability to circumnavigate the rules through dreams.

Twice, for placing upon it the power of time you anticipate needing for a final, dangerous task.

And another, because you’re sure now, if he took the time to put two enchantments on it, then he would not have neglected to add the third, spilling more blood to ensure that you are protected from harm by a little heart made of crystal and gold.

The last kiss though, the last you take for yourself, your reward for picking the lock of this puzzle and for enduring whatever undertaking is yet to come. You lay claim to him until the fire crackles to life again, until his lips slide out of the smile and meld gratefully into your own.

_______________

Final Chapter: Share it With Me (Thief x Locksmith 6)--->

LOCKSMITH SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

Tag list: @14mcmd1122 @adriiibell @allthe-ships @amb-bam @amneris21 @bison-writes @blackmarketmummy @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @cannedsoupsucks @chatterbean @deadhumourist @deberiaestarescribiendo @dihra-vesa @elegantduckturtle @eri16 @extraterrestrialdork @ezrasbirdie @feralhotmess @fromthedeskoftheraven @galaxyofmando @goblinsimp @gracie7209 @greeneyedblondie44 @grogusmum @grumpymuffinmama @hauntedmama @heavenseed76 @honestly-shite @hopplessdreamer @horton-hears-a-honk @hypnoash @janebby @javierpinme @jediknight122 @jitterbugs927 @just-here-for-the-moment @justreadingthings @kesskirata @kirsteng42 @kotemorons @likes-good-reblogs-even-better @literallydontlook @liviiii98 @lorecraft @lowlights @luthientinu @luxmundee @magpie-to-the-morning @maievdenoir @mando-amandk @midnightartemis @mostclevermiss @mswarriorbabe80 @mylovelycomandante @neonvagabond @ohlawdthebirds @pbeatriz @pjkimrn @princessxkenobi @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @quicksilvermad @radiowallet @raspberrymama @recklessworry @red-velvet-panda @seasonschange-butpeopledont @sheahoneygoth @solemnlyswearss @spacenerdpascal @stevie75 @sugar-foxx @tenderwhat @the-blind-assassin-12 @thirddeadlysin @thirstworldproblemss @thisisthewayyy @thisshipwillsail316 @tintinn16 @toomanystoriessolittletime @trash-dino-5000 @writeforfandoms

#the thief #thief x locksmith #casillero del diablo

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headingalaxys-spicy · 2 years

Text

Demon Games: Yandere! Demon England, France, & Russia

You were taking a religion course at your university. And you came across a book that was talking about Demonology. You had a paper to write for your final and come up with decent ‘evidence’ of your findings. However, your research went turned into a nightmare when you got a hold of a book that put you in contact with some of the most powerful demons that love to cling to vulnerable and unsuspecting souls like yours.

( I infused Fairytales/Folklore with actual games to try and make fun and coherent headcanons. Hope you like them.)

Demon England

In his Chapter called: The Man with the Midnight Lantern

You have to be away from your home on this one. In order for the game to work you to at least be 13 miles away from where you live. Then you must write your full name on a piece of paper and place it on the ground in front of you. Then you must light a candle and place it on your name.

Just before midnight, you have to tap your foot 13 times on the ground timing it so that your foot lands on the stroke of midnight. Once you do that you must whistle in order to summon the Man with the Midnight lantern that you have to avoid until 3:33 am when he loses power and disappears. If you can make it back to your home without catching his attention then congratulations you survived the night. You also must keep your candle lit in order to ward him off and keep him at least 13 feet away from you. If your candle goes out that means that he’s near, if you see a lantern nearby that means you only have about 30 seconds to relight it and keep him at bay. If you can’t do that in time then you’re doomed. He’ll then appear in front of you and pretend to be a kind soul and he has powers to make you forget that you’re playing an evil game.

“Love? Are you lost? Let me help you~”

Demon France

In his chapter titled: The Mirror Cheval Mallet

A game that doesn’t seem too bad in the beginning. All you really have to do is set up three mirrors facing towards your front door that perfectly reflect the door from the first mirror to the third. Then at 11:11 pm, you light a candle so that it can be in the middle of the three mirrors. This game is a bit tedious when it comes to the execution but, when you get it right there will be a payoff at midnight. If done correctly there will be a handsome prince with a beautiful white horse that will be there to take you to your destination…..Hell. But you wouldn’t be aware of that until it was far too late.

“Ready to go Mon Cheri?”

Demon Russia

You stumbled upon his chapter titled: The Hidden Fiend

It wants you to try and hide and start a game of ‘Hide and Seek’ by yourself. However, the book does come with a small hidden doll within one of the compartments that you have to use for the game. You can only start the game at midnight. This possessed doll will play the role of ‘it’ while it tries to catch you. You have to be able to hide from it until sunrise. Simple enough. Right? Nevertheless, you have another thing to worry about if you want to survive the night. The doll has the ability to place traps that will allure you to a spot long enough to where it can catch you. This can be a range of things from a simple pit for you to fall into you having a complete delusion about a fantasy ending. And if it does it well congratulations you lost and that gives Ivan enough power to escape from the book and claim you as his own.

“Hello Sunflower.”

#hetalia fandom #yandere headcanons #yandere england #yandere hetalia x reader #hetalia #yandere russia #yandere france #drabble #demon Russia #hetalia headcanons #totally not drinking while writing these #yandere hetalia

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trans-cuchulainn · 3 years

Note

okay- if one were say, doing their history rsr (im assuming you know what that is? if not- history leaving cert project) on the morrigan/ways she was worshipped- what direction would they go in to find sources?

okay so unfortunately for you we have no sources whatsoever that would tell us how she was worshipped or even if she was worshipped at all. this is the same for basically all of the irish mythological characters/gods. we simply don't have that information. it doesn't exist. sorry, this is disappointing to a lot of people.

since all of our literary evidence is christian and post-dates any worship of these figures by centuries (often many centuries), we don't know to what extent the literary depictions resemble any original gods at all, and we don't have sufficient archaeological evidence that we can interpret as religious in order to get a better sense of what veneration might have looked like if it happened

so. that's a bummer for you.

but i have sources on like. the morrigan as she appears in literary material -- not sure what the requirements are to make a project sufficiently historical but i'm sure there are angles you could take. and on the plus side, she's one of the more convincing mythological figures who seems to have an existence in the imagination outside literary sources, which is always fun.

(there are a few characters who seem to have been invented just to fill out triads / explain patronymics / solve a problem for the scribe; she's not one of them.)

first, for finding sources, if this is intended as a historical project then ignore anything about modern polytheist and neopagan approaches, because these are, well, modern, so that's going to mislead you. reconstruction could be interesting to research in its own right, but it's not at all helpful for trying to get to grips with historical material and it's likely just to send you down misleading rabbitholes. also ngl there's a lot of misinformation floating around a lot of those circles online: some folks are good with sources, but others will parrot something they read in an 80s "celtic goddesses" book that never had the slightest shred of evidence in the first place. not what you want for a history project!

also avoid anything that claims to have all the answers, because that's usually bullshit. if you have access to jstor or similar academic materials, that's a good place to start, although most of what i'm about to drop below isn't on there. if you don't, time to make a friend with benefits (library access). avoid anything that's TOO old -- a lot of 19th century writings about mythological stuff are utter bullshit, partly because they were working with incomplete versions of texts. and they always bowdlerise stuff in their retellings e.g. cut out the sex and the weird fuckery, which paints a super misleading picture.

i realise you are only doing a school project and not an academic thesis and there is a difference, but also i used a bunch of shitty sources in my EPQ (extended project qualification, i guess probably a similar thing but in the UK) and nobody ever really taught me how to evaluate them for reliability so i try and pass the message on.

a few directions:

mark williams "ireland's immortals: a history of the gods of irish myth" is a good book to start getting to grips with (a) what the mythological material actually says and (b) why it's challenging to work with, as well as (c) some of the ways it's been interpreted over time that lead to some of the pop culture depictions you see. doesn't have a huge amount about the morrigan specifically

angelique gulermovich epistein's thesis "war goddess: the morrigan and her gemano-celtic counterparts" is probably the most thorough treatment you're going to see of the morrigan. i don't agree with everything in it bc i'm chronically unmythological, but it's likely your best starting point for getting a sense of her appearances in the sources. there's a version of this available online but the formatting's fucky which makes it hard to reference, so let me know if you can't find a decent copy.

john carey has a number of articles about mythological stuff including an old one called "notes on the irish war goddess". this is in the journal eigse which can be hard to find online; i have it, so let me know if you need access

michael clarke's article "demonology, allegory and translation: the furies and the morrígan" is a fascinating take on the reference in the tain to the morrigan as equivalent to the fury allecto, and discusses the impact of classical texts on irish material. this is in "classical literature and learning in medieval irish narrative" which is a great book but may not be easy to get your hands on. again. let me know, i think i have a scan of this somewhere. a shitty scan, but it's better than nothing.

that's everything i can think of right now, though you can always comb the references in those to find more things so it should be plenty to going on with

good luck!

#this goes for everyone really but if you need an article i've mentioned #you can email me with my twitter handle @ gmail.com #(my twitter handle is also my ao3 username)#i am putting these extra steps of detective work in to avoid getting people spamming me #but it should be pretty easy to find #anyway. you can also DM me but i'll need your email address to send you stuff #i am going to be losing academic library access by the end of this year so i'm scanning shit #and trying to make sure i have anything that could be useful lol #answered #anonymous #the morrigan #medieval irish #irish mythology

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tarisilmarwen · 4 years

Text

Whumptober 2020 -“Perchance to Dream”

(Prompts used:

No. 15 Into The Unknown: Possession

No. 23 What’s A Whumpee Got To Do To Get Some Sleep Around Here?: Exhaustion/Sleep Deprivation

Alt. 7 Found Family)

—

A soft clink of porcelain on metal stirred Raven from her bleary concentration. She glanced over to see the fresh cup of hot tea by her elbow, steam wafting gently up from it.

“Thanks,” she muttered to Beast Boy, who pulled out the seat next to her and plopped into it heavily.

“No luck yet, I’m guessing?” he asked, nodding towards the slowly shifting piles of books dumped out on the evidence table.

“Some cryptic references. Nothing concrete.” She picked up the cup, just enjoying its warmth in her hands for a moment. "How’s Robin’s research coming?“

"He’s on his third pot of coffee and showing it,” Beast Boy replied, yawning widely. "Nearly bit my head off for shutting the cabinet door too loudly,“ he grumbled.

Raven took a long drag of her tea, the stinging heat warming her all the way down, reinvigorating her senses. She set the cup down with a satisfied exhale, swallowing.

Rubbing the corner of her eye, she flipped a few pages in her book. "I’ve still got a few obscure demonology reference books I can check,” she told him.

“Mmhm,” he mumbled.

“There’s a passage here that talks about ‘a pernicious, spiteful, and unusually powerful alp encountered by Tabitha of Ruenard’. Supposedly it tormented her for weeks and 'even took possession of one of her children’,” she read aloud from the ancient tome. "Definitely sounds like our nighttime friend.“ She glanced up, scanning across her book piles anxiously. "I know I have her Account of Apparitions, Wraiths, and Other Ill Spirits in my collection somewhere. If I could find it I could get her firsthand report of the incident and at least confirm whether or not—”

She stopped suddenly, realizing the changeling had fallen unusually quiet.

“Beast Boy?”

She glanced over at him. He was leaned on his elbow, head drooped in his palm and eyes closed, breathing softly.

Raven’s heart stuttered with panic.

“Beast Boy!” she cried, reaching over and slapping him across the cheek.

He startled back upright, eyes popping open.

“I’m awake!” he said, ramrod straight, traces of terror in the lines of his expression at what had almost happened.

Raven sagged back in her seat, her panic petering out.

“Don’t scare me like that!” she scolded, trembling angrily.

Beast Boy whimpered, strain on his face. "It’s been thirty-six hours! I can’t keep going like this!“ he whined, leaning both elbows on the table now and clutching his head. "Just a short nap?” he begged.

“No,” Raven reminded him sternly. "We can’t risk it. The wards around the Tower won’t contain him if he gets inside one of us.“ She grabbed his arm, squeezing with conviction. "I’m not letting him walk you out of here like some sick puppet again.”

“I know, I know,” he groaned, wiping his hands down his face. "Trust me, waking up in the middle of the bay and almost drowning with no idea how I got there wasn’t fun for me either.“ He shook himself vigorously, teeth rattling. "Okay okay okay, what can I do to help?” he asked.

Raven tugged her mind away from the horrible memories of yesterday’s early morning—stopping mid-sentence in her conversation with Robin when she noticed the disturbance in the water, realizing when she checked her empathic senses that the changeling was missing and that… thing was smothered over his mind, only leaving him when Beast Boy was far from shore, Starfire frantically pulling him, sputtering and indignant, out of the water—and racked her brain for something the changeling could do, some task she could give him that would keep him awake long enough for her to find out what, exactly, she’d pissed off that had come back with such a grudge against them.

“Help me find that book,” she determined, standing up a bit and grabbing another tome from atop the stack, flipping quickly through it.

Beast Boy’s expression wilted a little as he glanced at the unread piles. "I’m gonna need another energy drink,“ he decided, shoving back from the table and popping up.

"Eat something first, don’t just have more caffeine!” Raven called scoldingly after his back. "And don’t fall asleep!“ she snapped.

"I know, yeesh!” he called back as he disappeared through the door.

***

Robin’s eyelids sagged and his head began to dip forward. The words on the screen blurred and his thoughts began to swim, his mind drifting off—

He caught himself with a start, gasping back to alertness.

Starfire twitched next to him, immediately concerned. "Robin?“ she asked.

He smeared a hand across his eyes. "Sorry,” he mumbled. "Just drifted for a second.“ He cleared his throat, holding out his empty cup to her. "Can you get me some more of that Tamaranian glorbak root, whatever it was?” he requested. "That really helped last time.“

"Alas,” she said, taking the cup in both hands. "I fear I will be out of my small supply soon.“ She floated up, drifting over to the kitchen and flicking on the lights. "I hope Raven finds something,” she said quietly.

Robin mashed his fingers against his temples, sighing heavily. A caffeine headache was pulling at the front of his skull, sitting just underneath his forehead. The computer light wasn’t helping.

He straightened up in his seat, tapping back on the keyboard to scroll back through the news reports from his evidence file, showing the progression of the case.

It had started with just a series of odd sleepwalking incidents at first—petty crimes and mischief committed by ordinary people living along a specific street block, who’d seemingly just gotten out of bed and had no recollection of their actions once confronted. They’d initially suspected mind control, only all the usual suspects—Mad Mod, Killer Moth, the Puppet King—were still locked up. It wasn’t until Raven had encountered one of these civilian sleepers on patrol and realized he wasn’t asleep, he was awake and responsive he just wasn’t… himself, that there was something overshadowing the man’s conscious, that they’d had reason to suspect a supernatural cause.

Raven had questioned the sleeper, exorcised the presence, cast a protection spell over the neighborhood, and believed the matter settled.

Up until the entity had tried to drown Beast Boy in the harbor while she was giving Robin her report, two mornings ago.

Robin shivered again at the close call. Beast Boy was fine, physically unharmed, actually outright sulky about the whole thing but the six minutes in-between when he and Raven had looked out the Tower window at the frantic splashing below and when the Titans had clustered at the shore while Starfire plucked the shape-shifter from the water had been one of the most terrifying moments of his life.

And the ordeal still wasn’t over.

Robin felt himself sagging again, and jerked himself upright determinedly. He knew he’d made the right call—trapping the entity inside the Tower with them kept its wrath focused on the Titans, kept the rest of the city safe—but this tense stand-off could only last so long. His body was sore with exhaustion, it was getting harder to think, harder to concentrate. His head throbbed and pounded, begging him to just shut his eyes for a moment, just a moment.

The doors hissed open behind them. Robin and Starfire glanced up to see Cyborg step through, arm on sensor mode and held out in front of him as he walked in.

Robin forced himself to get up from his chair, coming over to meet Cyborg halfway.

“Tell me some good news,” he begged.

Cyborg shook his head. "Wish I could,“ he said.

"I will literally take anything,” Robin pressed, opening his hands out in helpless gestures.

The half-robot gave a sigh and dropped his arm heavily. "All right, well,“ he began, "after scanning along multiple wavelengths—repeatedly—I did find that I can sort of detect our incorporeal boogeyman in the infrared.” He brought up the data on his wrist computer, showing it to Robin. "But he’s really slippery. I’ve swept the Tower top to bottom three times now and only just barely managed to catch him on my sensors.“

"But he’s still in the Tower?” Robin asked anxiously.

“For now,” Cyborg confirmed. He peeked up over Robin’s head towards the kitchen area. "That smells really good, Star,“ he told her. "Whatcha making?”

Starfire lifted up her wooden spoon, letting bits of green-blue goop fall back into her mixing bowl. "It is called glorbak root paste,“ she explained, wearily stirring the substance in slow circles. "It is a Tamaranian superfood, full of natural stimulants. It is designed to energize and cleanse the body of toxins.” She tapped the spoon against the bowl and set it aside. "Would you like some?“ she offered, a hint of her bright enthusiasm peeking through the gleam in her eyes.

He held up a hand. "I’m good, thanks,” he said. "But you’ll have to let me try some after all this is over.“

Starfire nodded in acceptance, looking a tad disappointed. She put out two smaller bowls, one for herself, one for Robin, and began ladling her dish into them. She glanced at Cyborg as she did so, squinting curiously.

"You do not appear to be that tired, Cyborg,” she observed. "Please, what is your secret?“

"Erm…” he stammered, looking uncomfortably towards Robin. "I uh…“ At the Boy Wonder’s narrowed stare he reluctantly continued. "I installed the Max 7 chip and deleted my sleep protocols,” he admitted.

“Cyborg—” Robin was already groaning sharply.

The half-robot jabbed a finger at Robin’s face. "Can it!“ he snapped, tone suddenly harsh, frightening. "None of us are getting healthy rest tonight, Mr. Three-Pots-Of-Coffee-And-A-Stimulant-Shot. You stay awake your way, I’ll stay awake mine, and we’ll worry about whatever comatose crash we’re heading for later.”

Robin flinched like a kicked puppy, and Cyborg immediately felt bad for yelling.

“Sorry,” the Boy Wonder mumbled. "I know. You’re doing more work than anyone trying to catch this thing and—"

“Nah, man, I—” Cyborg interrupted, rubbing a hand behind his head. "—I shouldn’t have sniped at you.“ He sighed. "It’s been a long two days. We’re all tired and cranky. I’ll…” He stopped, staring intently at the kitchen, lighting upon an idea. "I’ll make us all some food,“ he suggested. He moved into the kitchen, bumping shoulders with Starfire as he started opening the cabinets.

"Oh, yes please,” she breathed, making room for him on the counter.

Robin nodded as well. "That sounds like a good idea.“ He reached down into his belt and pulled out his communicator, switching it on. "Hey Raven,” he said into it. "Why don’t you and Beast Boy take a break and come on up here? Cyborg’s making a late dinner.“

"Be up in a minute,” she promised.

Robin stowed his comm and moved to clear the dining table, stacking the news clippings he’d been scanning and brushing stray crumbs off the surface.

Starfire tugged softly on his right arm to draw his attention. He turned and accepted the offered bowl of glorbak root from her.

“Thanks,” he said.

“May I go take a quick shower?” she asked. Her fingers combed idly through her hair, trying to tame the unruly frizzles that had been gathering all evening. "I believe the long nights have begun to make me quite… disheveled.“

He smiled faintly at her. "You’re still beautiful,” he said, leaning in for a quick peck on the lips. "Go ahead, Star,“ he urged. "I’ll keep your bowl warm for you.”

She touched a hand affectionately to his cheek before turning and floating off.

***

Fragrant spices mixed with the scent of sizzling ham, and boiling water churned and steamed in their largest pot as Cyborg plopped dried chunks of noodles into the water. Starfire returned from her shower in time to help Cyborg spoon the broth into separate bowls, sticking charred ham and seaweed snacks and fried eggs in along the edges and setting them at each place of the table. Cyborg was just dropping tofu chunks into Beast Boy’s serving, whispering back and forth to Starfire where the soy sauce was located in their mess of a refrigerator, when a spot on the floor turned black and swirled up in loose eddies.

Raven yanked up from the depths, Beast Boy pulling up beside her and falling heavily on his rear as Raven let her portal close under their feet.

A wild, manic look was in her eyes as she held up a book with a huge green jewel embellishing the front, and all the Titans alerted to her at once, the air growing serious.

“I’ve got it!” she announced breathlessly.

***

Raven turned the book around, open to a specific page, and held it up, shoving it forward on the table so everyone could see.

Starfire and Cyborg both leaned closer, forks stuck in their bowls. Robin made quick glances as he slurped his noodles messily.

“His name,” Raven explained, “is Ypnefiáltis. He’s an ancient creature from the early thirteenth century. He was misclassified as an alp for a few years before demonologists noticed he lacked most of the classic attributes—the hat, the ability to shape-shift, being warded off by broomsticks under pillows—” At Starfire’s confused look, she interjected a quick, “—I’ll explain later,” before continuing. "His schtick is invading people’s dreams and taking their bodies for a joyride at night. Vandalism, theft, general mischief…“ she listed. "More about humiliating his target and ruining their reputation than causing them any actual harm.”

“Sounds like our guy, all right,” Cyborg commented, nodding. That was exactly how their case had started.

Raven’s mouth pursed grimly. "Only problem is he’s really vindictive and spiteful towards anyone who ruins his 'fun’.“ She pulled the book back towards her, so she could read from its pages. "There was an apothecarist in England who fought him,” she said. Her finger scrolled down the text. "'In the village of Glastony I spent the night with the miller and his daughters, warm and gracious ladies with pleasant temperaments, wholesome children. In the morning their father came to me with concerns that his eldest had been overshadowed by demons in the night—she had turned up at a neighbor’s farm stark naked and pulling feathers from the neighbor’s chickens. I agreed to look into the matter.’“

The empath paused a moment, grabbing the water glass by her bowl and stopping to take a long sip. The others waited in rapt attention, listening to the account.

"Let’s see…” Raven scanned the words. "She caught up with the girl… confirmed she was possessed…“ She cleared her throat and picked up again. ”'I rebuked the entity and bade it depart. At once it left the girl’s body, and confusion and shame at the state of her undress overtook her. I crafted the girl a protective charm of agate and rosemary, such as I myself wore every night, instructing her to keep it under her pillow as she slept to ward off further visits from the spirit.’“

"This is all sounding very familiar,” Robin interjected to comment.

“Tell me about it,” Raven drawled in a mutter. "'The demon sought revenge for this indignity, and his nighttime possessions became at once shockingly violent and gruesome. Unable to take control of me, he followed me from village to village, everywhere I stayed ensnaring some poor soul and using their body as a vessel for wicked deeds, endangering their physical well-being and using them to attack other innocents. Several he lead to frightful deaths. The province became of the opinion that I was cursed, and barred their doors to me, even as I pleaded for aid in battling this heinous monster.’“

Starfire shivered in her seat, hearing in her imagination echoes of the woman’s frantic begging, the rat-tat-tat of anxious fists on closed doors.

"So how do we beat him?” Beast Boy asked, folding his arms on the table.

“I’m getting to that,” Raven snipped curtly. "It says she laid a trap for him in an old chapel behind her family’s house. When he tried to confront her 'wearing the face of my dearest daughter’,“ she quoted, "she invoked an ancient incantation, so recorded below, 'and battled the creature long into the morning until I managed to prise his talons from my child’s head and shatter his essence, so that he would not be able to arise again from the depths of hell until many long years had passed.’”

She finished her tale to a moment of deafening silence, only the soft clink of utensils on ceramic breaking it.

“So…” Beast Boy thought aloud. "All we gotta do is use this incantation on him, right?“ he asked, almost eager. "And then he’s blasted back to the netherworld or whatever?”

Raven’s mouth twisted. "It’ll be tricky. It requires sustained visual contact.“ She lay the book flat with a sigh, glancing apologetically at Robin. "I’m going to have to have an eyeline on him.”

“So first we have to find him, wherever he is in the Tower,” Robin concluded.

Cyborg grimaced. "That could be a problem.“

Robin’s mouth flattened into a firm line and he stared at the grains in the table thinking. Lifting his chin he asked, "What are our options?”

He looked first to Raven.

She was reluctant to speak at first, but then inhaled slowly.

“The wards around the Tower won’t last the morning,” she told Robin grimly. "If we’re going to end this, we need to do it tonight. So he doesn’t escape back out into the city the moment the spell is weak enough.“

”Uggghhhh,“ Beast Boy groaned. "How are we supposed to find something we can’t even see? Wait—” he said, lighting upon an idea and glancing excitedly at Raven. "You can sense him right?“

She was already shaking her head. "Not while he’s incorporeal. I couldn’t even feel him in soul self form,” she said. "That was the first thing I tried once the wards were up, trust me.“ She drifted back to the moment, to the anxious waiting through long hours of the night, her senses extended to their limits, waiting until she felt the flicker of him descending on one of her friends, entering them as they drifted off, and springing the trap, snapping the wards around the Tower and slamming the button for the alarm, instantly waking whoever it had been and loosing the demon’s grip on them.

A horrible thought began to grow in her mind…

"Would it be possible to lure him out?” Starfire inquired, wide worried eyes fixed on a corner of the ceiling.

Cyborg answered this time. "Don’t see how.“ He held up both hands, ticking off on his fingers. "I’ve tried EM pulses, static electricity, I’ve zapped every corner of this place with as many nonharmful rays as I could think of to flush him out. I’ve been up and down with the spectrometer chasing every blip I thought could be him. Hell, I tried an audio call-and-response.” He set his arms back down, weariness showing in his shoulders. "I’m almost ready to try getting out a Ouija board.“

"Bad idea,” Robin immediately dismissed.

“Yeaaaah no, let’s not invite any other spirits to the party dude,” Beast Boy agreed. "Trust me, those things are bad mojo.“

"This whole thing is bad mojo,” he grumbled, stabbing his fork into his ramen bowl and hefting a generous chunk of noodles.

Raven pursed her mouth, coming to a realization.

“I don’t see any other way around it,” she sighed, her hands flat on the table on either sides of her book. She stared down at the pages with a severe frown. "We’re going to have to use bait.“

She lifted her head, fixing them all with a serious look.

"One of us is going to have to fall asleep.”

The Titans stared past each other in grim silence for a moment after the pronouncement, an aura of doom settling over them. Then, quietly, a voice spoke up.

“I’ll do it,” Robin said. His next inhale was shaky. "I’ll be the easiest to… contain… if he takes hold of me.“

Starfire wilted, her face crumpling with an agonized look. "I hate that your logic is sound,” she whined.

He reached across, taking her hand under the table and squeezing it tightly.

“All right,” Cyborg accepted soberly. "I guess we’ll set up in the medbay then?“

Robin nodded. "We’ll use the medical restraints. And we should probably lock down the room with the quarantine protocols.”

Beast Boy piped up. "Uh, am I the only one who remembers you broke out of those restraints on your own while hopped on hallucinogenics and panic?“

"This should be different,” Robin assured him. He grimaced. "I think.“

"That fills me with confidence,” Raven said, sarcastic tone witheringly sour. Shaking herself she added, “But you’re right. Physically you’re the easiest to subdue if… if we have to. I don’t think Ypnefiáltis will be able to replicate your combat skills just because he’s inhabiting your body.”

Robin thought for a moment. "I’ll leave all my gear off too. That should help,“ he decided.

"We’re really doing this,” Beast Boy muttered. He let his head drop to the table with a groan. "Nnnnnngh, this is gonna suck,“ he pronounced miserably.

Cyborg pushed back from the table, crossing over to the sink and grabbing a glass. "Well, first order of business is to flush all that caffeine out your system.” He filled the glass to the brim and returned to the table, smacking it down in front of Robin. "Drink up.“

Robin pulled his hand from Starfire’s, picked up the glass in both palms, and began tossing it back.

***

After cleaning up the dishes, gathering a few supplies, and several bathroom breaks, the Titans gathered in the medical bay to make what they hoped would be their final stand. Beast Boy paced the length of the room nervously and Starfire fidgeted as she sat on one of the beds, fingers wringing in front of her.

Cyborg was setting up some equipment, to monitor and detect any spectral readings if he could, give them a warning before Ypnefiáltis made himself known. He muttered curses to himself as he checked his arm and his infrared sensors, moving back and forth and plugging and unplugging cables.

Raven was floating in a corner of the room, eyes closed in meditation, gathering her strength. She could sense the nervous energy of her friends buzzing through the room, as their anxiety and trepidation cycled up and cycled down, and none moreso than the roiling bundle of nerves that was Robin. Raven could feel his jitters sharply through their bond, and did her best to subtly siphon it away, trying to calm him without pulling too hard and forcing him to.

She opened her eyes, coming out of her meditative trance and glancing over at him.

He stood at the counter, staring down reluctantly at a pair of small brown pills in his palm. There was a sedative shot on the tray in front of him as well, but Cyborg had cautioned against it, fearing it would knock Robin out too quickly, that there wouldn’t be time to be ready if Ypnefiáltis decided to lunge in immediately.

The Boy Wonder worked up his courage for a long while, breathing slowly, carefully, frozen in place, his other hand curling tighter around the water glass he held.

Finally, he leaned his head back, tossing down the pills and bringing the glass up to his lips for a large gulp.

Exhaling, he set the glass down and spoke up.

"All right,” he said. "I’m ready.“

Starfire went over to him at once, wrapping arms around him and squeezing softly, feverishly.

"I’ll be all right,” he whispered into her hair, hugging back, taking comfort in her steady warmth.

She was trembling a little as she pulled away, her wide green eyes tightened with the same worry that pinched her mouth, strained her features. "I wish you did not have to do this,“ she said.

"I know,” he only agreed, stepping back.

Cyborg paused fiddling with his equipment a moment to take over, setting Robin up with a couple wireless biosensors. Robin eased himself down on one of the beds, the heart monitor next to him fluttering, beeping steadily, and wordlessly let Cyborg strap him down.

Starfire turned her eyes away with a small whimper.

***

They waited. The minutes stretched out, tense with anticipation. Cyborg hovered over his monitors and Raven stood to the side and waited with Tabitha’s account held tightly open in her hands. Starfire seated herself next to the other bed, biting her nails and watching anxiously.

The stress was making her light-headed. The sides of her skull pinched and her thoughts wouldn’t focus, running around in a thousand little circles that seemed to grow more and more incoherent.

She dropped her hand, leaning both arms onto the foot of the bed in front of her, watching glumly.

She hated this. Hated having to see Robin tied down to that bed again. The last time had been more than enough for her, and now here he was again preparing to let another monster inside his head.

She didn’t want to watch. Her head dropped, her forehead pressing into the cool metal of her arm guards to hide her face…

From the other side of the gurney, a fidgety Beast Boy stopped tapping his toes against the wheels underneath Robin, deciding to pipe up.

“Soooo… I kinda thought those sleeping pills were supposed to make you… you know… sleep.”

Robin’s teeth gnashed inside his head, and both Raven and Cyborg flicked irritated glares at him.

“You are not. Helping. Beast Boy,” Raven growled through clenched jaw.

“They’re working, I promise,” Robin strained, his head bobbing back a little bit, dizzily. "I’m plenty drowsy, it’s just…“ He hissed out in frustration. "It’s hard to let go.”

There was a growing fuzziness, pulling at his brain. The bed beneath him felt amazingly soft and warm and he just wanted to slip down into that softness and melt there but the prickling stabs of anticipatory fear tingled in his head, preventing him from concentrating on the tired heaviness starting to fill him.

One of Cyborg’s monitors beeped.

“Woah, hang on,” he said, alerting to it at once. "I think I’ve got something.“

He leaned over the display, tapping a couple buttons, peering at the blue-white text and data.

"Spectral frequency analyzer is picking up something,” he reported. "Could be our bogey.“

Raven’s spine crawled with a chill. "I’m… picking up something too,” she said, her empathic senses feeling a shadow presence tickling at the fringes of her awareness.

From on the bed Robin blinked dazedly, mumbling a confused, “But I’m not… asleep yet…”

Cyborg frowned, flicking his monitor with his fingers. "Could be a glitch,“ he admitted. "Maybe I didn’t calibrate the emitters properly.” He hunched over it, squinting at it in study.

“Oh, I think it’s working perfectly…”

The voice from behind him stopped them all dead, and Robin’s drooping eyes shot open wide as a spike of panic broke through and made him fully alert.

The other Titans turned their heads, horrified, to see Starfire raising her head from her arms, an eerily calm… smirking expression on her face.

Her soft features were contorted with an alien malice, and when she rose to her feet the whole movement felt wrong somehow.

She tilted her head to the side, cracking a twisted grin. "Congratulations kids, you found me.“ It was her voice, her inflection, but it wasn’t her. She turned a narrowed glare on Raven. "Now let me out,” she snarled.

Something snapped inside all of them, and Cyborg charged forward with a furious yell, fist raised.

Starfire ducked low, coming up and punching hard into Cyborg’s metal diaphragm, sending him hurling away to crash against the far wall, knocking over some of his equipment along the way.

BAM!

Raven’s heart caught in her throat as she whipped around fully to face the thing that was wearing her friend.

The demon was looking down at Starfire’s hands, marveling, eyes alight.

“Oooh this body is strong!” it crowed. The vindictive smirk returned as it looked back up. "Maybe I’ll keep this one.“

On the hospital bed, Robin unfroze, jerking stiffly, finding his voice.

"No!” he cried, terror strangling his throat. "Star! Star!“ He struggled in place, held down by the gurney straps.

Beast Boy let out a feral growl. "Let my sister go you creep!” he yelled, rushing forward, morphing into a bear and swiping heavily.

The demon moved Starfire out of the way easily, side-stepping the vicious strike. Her fist lit up and the bear that was Beast Boy gave a yelp as a starbolt stung his side. He stumbled, tangling in Cyborg’s equipment and bringing it crashing down with him as he fell.

“Oh what’s this?” the demon exclaimed, eyes agleam, experimenting with another ball of glowing green energy. "Ho ho, you mortals have been holding out on me.“ It hurled the ball, exploding it against one of the monitors.

Raven cried out as glass splinters nipped her side, raising an arm to shield her face. Features narrowing in determination, she pressed her open book tight against her chest with one hand, with the other gathered dark matter.

"Azarath Metrion—”

Another starbolt beaned her in the stomach, knocking her over. She managed to hold onto the book, even as her head cracked against the floor.

The thing inside Starfire snarled in fury.

“Not today, witch!” it hissed. It grabbed a scalpel from a nearby tray, bringing it up to Starfire’s neck. "Release the wards or I’ll slit her throat right here!“ it threatened.

"Don’t you touch her!” Robin was shrieking from his trapped position, yanking on the straps even more frantically.

Raven glared, pushing up to her elbows. "If you kill her, you’ll still be trapped,“ she said icily.

"Not for long,” the demon growled.

Cyborg’s sonic cannon ratcheted up and fired before the stand-off could continue any longer, the blue-white beam slamming into Starfire and sending her skidding into the other bed.

“Ungh!” her voice grunted.

The scalpel was lost in the collision and now Cyborg and Beast Boy were both charging in, dogpiling onto Starfire and trying to pin her body down.

She threw them off with a surge of strength, green eyes glowing vibrantly. Eyebeam shots fired off, hitting the walls, the ceiling, bouncing off the metal quarantine barriers and pinging dangerously around the room. Raven threw up a barrier over her head, ducking low and flinching as the shots thudded into her shield.

The demon seized an IV stand, swinging it like a spear into Cyborg’s side. He was batted into the side of Robin’s bed, recovered, grabbed hold of the pole on the next strike, trying to wrest it from Starfire’s hands.

She brought the heavy metal feet up and cracked them against his chin. He went down, dazed.

Beast Boy slithered around her, scaly snake body coiling over her arms. She glowed dangerously a moment before exploding outwards, starbolt energy blasting out. The changeling flew high and smacked the ceiling before crashing down and crumpling.

Raven was on her feet now, running forward.

Starfire bared her teeth, grabbing the edges of Robin’s bed and flipping it, making the boy give a yelp as he was upended, the bed toppling on its side.

It didn’t slow down Raven, who floated up and over Robin and blasted dark matter at their opponent.

Robin could hear the fight from his awkward position but he couldn’t see it, couldn’t move, couldn’t get himself free. His wrists twisted in the canvas cuffs wrapped tightly around them, pulling in panic, the restraints that were supposed to help contain their enemy now an absolute hindrance trapping him in place.

“Beast Boy!” he cried, yelling at the groaning limp form of the changeling. "C'mon, get up! Help me!“

Beast Boy moaned again and lurched up onto his hands, shaking his head. He scurried over to the fallen gurney, rising up on his knees and hands grabbing at the strap holding Robin’s right wrist, pulling the end loose from the buckle.

He’d just freed Robin’s hand when a starbolt shot and Raven’s cry rang out, and then her body was flying over their head, spilling on the ground, the book knocking free and skidding across the floor.

"Don’t let him blast—!” Robin ordered frantically.

Beast Boy was already moving, morphing into a small spiny ankylosaur, hurling himself over the book as an eyebeam blast streaked overhead and splashed against his side. The changeling hissed in pain, but stayed curled over the ancient tome, protecting it from the searing beam.

After a moment the eyebeams shut off, the demon giving a growl and a horrendous screeching of crumpling metal sounding.

Robin strained with his free hand for the strap at his waist, prying at the buckle with his fingers. He managed to undo it, and quickly grabbed for the one at his shoulders. It came loose and his torso slid partway off the gurney, hanging awkwardly in the remaining straps until he freed his other hand and manged to wriggle his legs and feet out of the rest.

Finally free from the bed, Robin pushed up to his palms, and then his knees, and then his feet, and then he bolted upright, straining over the tipped gurney to see a groaning Cyborg rubbing his head and no sign of Starfire, the wide hole in the floor the only sign of her former presence.

He started forward, then stopped, backing up and checking on Raven, one hand reaching towards her neck to feel for a pulse.

She groaned, already rising before he could touch her, waving him off with a hand.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, grimacing in pain. "Stop him.“

Loosed like an arrow from the quiver Robin bolted around the fallen gurney, grabbing the syringe of sedative from the tray before dropping down through the hole.

Cyborg shook himself alert and followed moments later.

Beast Boy morphed back to normal, whimpering a bit as smoke drifted up from his singed side. Raven stumbled over, quickly pressing healing hands to him.

"You know…” Beast Boy coughed, arms tightening around Raven’s book for an anchorpoint against the pain. "I don’t think we appreciate enough how much Starfire holds herself back.“

Raven quirked a faint smile in spite of everything. "Remind me to tell her once all this is over,” she quipped.

***

“Cyborg, which way?!” Robin called back frantically, checking down the long hallway corners at the junction.

“Left, towards the training room!” Cyborg told him, checking his sensors. "Keep going, I’ll activate the Tower’s lockdown measures!“ he said, shoving his arm into the nearest wall console and plugging in, pulling up the keyboard to tap in the authorization code.

The red alert sirens immediately screeched out, flashing scarlet through the halls. Lights shut off and solid thumps! sounded as metal plates slid down, barricading the windows.

Robin heard a snarl of fury underneath the din, and lasered in on it, hurtling down the hall until he found her crashing through the equipment in the training room, shoving aside weight racks.

"Infernal mortals!” the demon inside her was grouching to itself. "I will not be contained by your paltry parlor tricks!“ A large weight was hefted lightly, hurled into the closest wall.

CRASH!

The wall crumbled, leaving another jagged hole. Starfire’s body floated up, glowing fists clutched tight by her sides, drifting towards it.

"Ypnefiáltis!” Robin yelled.

Starfire’s head whipped in his direction.

Robin stabbed the syringe into his neck, releasing its contents. Yanking it out he let it drop with a little glass tink!

“Take me!” he cried. He planted his feet firmly as he flung out his demand. "Let her go and take me!“

Her face twisted with a hideous anger. "You’re a fool if you think I’d trade this body for yours, boy!” the demon inside her spat.

Robin kicked off a workout bench and landed himself in front of the hole, blocking Starfire’s way. He wobbled on his feet slightly, a lightheadedness circling around his ears.

“I’m not… letting you take her…” he said. He blinked hard, heaviness moving through his limbs.

Her eyes blazed green hotly. In a blink she crossed the distance, outstretched hand closing around his neck.

Robin choked slightly, the pressure and breathlessness adding to the fuzzy darkness creeping in. He grabbed weakly at her arm.

She lifted him up, toes brushing weakly against the floor, regarding him with pure contempt.

“You can’t possibly hope to stop me,” the demon told him, eerily calm. "I can feel the strength in this body. The power. This girl you care for could snap you like a twig,“ it said, fingers tightening ever so slightly.

Robin strained for breath.

"Iorondium caelix sans, malkizek vash origari!” a voice rang out from behind them, echoing with power.

The glow in Starfire’s eyes disappeared, a bald look of fear replacing the chilled anger. The demon jerked its head back to see Raven standing in the doorway, black aura flaming around her, Tabitha’s book opened, the words glowing on the pages. Beast Boy hovered behind the empath’s shoulder as she chanted, reaching out with her free hand, eyes fixed on Starfire.

The demon cursed, dropping Robin back on his feet. The Boy Wonder stumbled back in a daze, hand lightly touching his throat.

Anger returning to Starfire’s expression, the demon hissed, “You get your wish, boy.”

She shoved him. A vague shadowy form pulled out from her, lunging forward.

Robin tripped backwards over the lip of the hole in the wall. He was unconscious before he hit the ground, and Ypnefiáltis was already inside him, already opening his eyes and rolling him away from the hole.

“—dristar caliki… dammit!” Raven cursed, stopping her spell and running up as Starfire’s body crumpled.

She glared after the fleeing form of Robin, already out of range down the next hall, bending down and shaking Starfire by the shoulder.

“Star, wake up! Wake up!”

She was as still as death for a moment, before shooting upright, eyes wide and horrified.

“Raven!” she cried. Her legs curled underneath her, her hands pressing over her mouth and her eyes shimmering, lined with tears. "Oh no, I am so so sorry!“ she said, distress cracking her words. "I did not mean to—I swear I only closed my eyes for a few seconds!”

“It’s okay,” Raven assured her, grabbing her arm and helping her to her feet.

“Yeah, we’ll worry about it later,” Beast Boy agreed, joining them. "We gotta move, it’s got Robin.“

Starfire gave a heartbreaking squeak of dismay, following her friends as they climbed through the hole.

***

"Let me out!” Robin cried, banging on what seemed to be a solid wall of glass.

Laughter cackled from all around him, echoing in the empty space.

“Oh ho no, boy. You wanted me here. There are no take-backsies.”

Robin gasped, shooting a look towards his feet as he felt squelching mud starting to rise up around his ankles.

Glowing red eyes sneered out at him from behind the glass, a twisted, demonic face curling its mouth in a terrible fanged smile.

“You’re mine.”

***

Cyborg joined them at the stairwell.

“I’ve got a lock on him!” he immediately announced, staring at his arm display. "He’s in the vents, three levels down, heading for the main generator.“ He looked up from his arm. "Probably trying to figure out a way to manually shut down the Tower’s defenses.”

Raven’s mind whirled, an on-the-fly strategy coming to her. "Let’s try a two-pronged attack,“ she said. "Cyborg, Starfire, you go down and intercept him. Beast Boy,” she ordered, turning to him, “I’m going inside Robin’s mind to push Ypnefiáltis out from there.”

“Not alone you’re not,” he insisted, grabbing her hand.

“Figured you’d say that.” She glanced at the others. "Hurry!“

Starfire and Cyborg nodded, and swiftly descended the stairs.

Taking a deep breath, Raven focused her energies.

"Azarath Metrion Zinthos…” she murmured. "Azarath Metrion Zinthos…“

She felt her body dissolving, Beast Boy’s hand turning into a warm ember on her senses. Twining a thread of consciousness around his presence, she concentrated on physically pulling the changeling and the book along with her soul self.

Walls passed like mist around her mind’s eye. She used her bond with Robin like a rope to pull them down, down, past Cyborg and Starfire thundering down the stairs, past the maintenance vents, into the generator room and down towards the brightly-colored figure scrabbling on the ladder.

She met a brief wall of resistance and then she was inside, and the darkness was reshaping itself, shapes slowly fading out of the blackness.

A glimmering starlit city appeared, the Tower glowing proudly in the bay. The Jump City inside Robin’s mindscape looked peaceful, but dark stormclouds were overtaking the horizon, blotting out the stars one by one.

Raven set them down in an empty tree-lined street, her and Beast Boy’s presences reforming into their own images.

Beast Boy shook himself out, checking both hands, touching his arms, ears, and legs to make sure he was all there. Raven turned in a slow circle, feeling out for Robin, scanning the shifting image of the city.

A dull thump! met her ears from behind.

Both Titans turned to see Robin, on the other side of what looked like a thick glass storefront. The room behind him was pitch black, and he was gaping through the window incredulously.

"What are you guys doing here?” he yelled, slightly muted from behind the wall.

Raven felt a twinge of relief pass through her head at seeing him. "Kicking out your unwanted houseguest,“ she drawled.

"Speaking of!” Beast Boy shrilled, pointing frantically.

The empath hissed slightly through her teeth, tensing and taking a step back as a tall, charcoal and crimson-skinned… entity stalked up the street, the stormclouds crackling behind him. It was a spindly, long-limbed creature, the red parts of its skin peeking out like molten lava, black horns crowning its head. Its clawed feet dripped mud as it thundered towards them, piercing yellow snake-like eyes narrowed in fury.

“There’s no room for two in this head, witch!” he shouted. He stabbed a clawed finger towards the trapped Robin. "Much less four!“ The hand curled tightly, as if gripping something unseen. "Take your weak-willed pet and leave and I won’t squeeze your friend’s consciousness into oblivion.”

There was a terrified gasp from the Boy Wonder, and Raven and Beast Boy watched, horrified, as the same churning mud that burned at Ypnefiáltis’s feet filled the room Robin was in, pulling him away from the window, dragging at his clothes and limbs.

Beast Boy tucked his head low, morphing in a blink into a charging bull elephant and slamming the demon’s legs.

Ypnefiáltis grunted, knocked back down the hill into a squat building.

The changeling shifted back to normal, clenching his fists with a nod of satisfaction.

“I’m nobody’s pet, dude,” he said, icily.

Raven wrapped a bubble of protection around her book, gently floating it behind a shrub to keep it safe. Both hands flamed with dark matter, her eyes dissolving into blank white.

She rose up, floating above the street, the mindscape shifting in response to her drawing power. Ypnefiáltis pried his head up from the debris, giving pause when he saw the aura glowing around her.

Raven looked like something truly terrifying as her powers swirled around her, forming into an enormous raven, a huge silhouetted avatar emanating from her shoulders, screeching threateningly.

Her voice echoed faintly as she spoke.

“Get out of my brother’s head,” she growled.

***

Starfire snarled as she threw a punch, denting the place where Robin’s head had been a moment before.

The demon inside him continued to evade and dodge her heavy strikes, though just barely, with none of Robin’s usual elegant speed and precision.

Cyborg charged in with a yell, and now the demon retreated back, breaking off a piece of loose rebar and whipping its sharp end at them.

The generators behind and above them churned with a loud hum, near-deafening. They battled along the catwalks, down into the pits, back up the maintenance ladders, forcing the demon back and back.

It lunged for Starfire with the makeshift spear pointed up for a thrust.

Starfire batted the bar aside with her wrist, grabbing him around the waist, flying up, slamming him into the side of a pipe above them.

Blam!

Breathless, the demon crumpled to its knees as Starfire dropped him. It clutched its stomach, raising its head with vicious malice.

“Knew I shouldn’t have jumped ship,” it grumbled.

It immediately had to dodge a starbolt, which popped against a grated cover behind Robin’s ear.

“You will not claim possession of my head again!” Starfire declared firmly.

She lunged for him but he had already dropped down a level below, right into Cyborg’s path. The two exchanged furious blows for a few seconds before a misfired sonic shot broke the catwalk beneath them, plunging them down to the bowels of the room.

Ypnefiáltis groaned as it pulled the frail human mortal’s body out of twisted metal and up to its feet. It could feel bruises pluming under the soft skin, the sedative numbing the boy’s nerves and senses as it coursed through fragile veins.

Useless human vessel, it grouched to itself.

The strong girl was beelining for him again. Gnashing the teeth inside his mouth, the demon picked up the broken bar again, and as Starfire swooped in, slashed it through a set of live cables, leaving their dangling ends sparking and popping, grabbing one sizzling end with a free hand and turning to tag Starfire with it.

The electricity exploded through her body upon contact, lighting her up for a horrible moment as she shrieked.

The demon pulled the cable away and watched the girl drop with a satisfying slump, falling prone on the floor.

“Star!” cried her companion.

Ypnefiáltis turned to meet the new attack.

***

Inside Robin’s mind, another battle raged. Raven’s projection slammed against Ypnefiáltis, battering him about the nightlit city streets. Mud like pitch black tar formed itself into hideous hands, batting the wingtips of the diving black raven, blocking the sharp beak snaps.

The demon suddenly howled in pain as teeth sank into his calf.

Beast Boy, in giant tyrannosaur form, clenched his jaw harder, lifting up, upending Ypnefiáltis, shaking him like a ragdoll and flinging him off.

The stormclouds retreated aways across the horizon, scattered puddles of mud dissolving.

They reinvigorated with force as Ypnefiáltis rolled about in midair and scratched his claws into the street, tearing concrete.

Robin gave a cry, clutching hands over his head like it was him that had been split. The mud was up to his torso now, and no amount of desperate scratching at the glass barrier had made any difference.

A shadow fell across him and he yelped and reeled back as Beast Boy rammed his tyrannosaur head against the glass.

The room shook and Robin’s teeth rattled but it had no effect on the barrier.

The mud curled in grasping tendrils around Robin’s neck as the changeling backed up to try again.

***

Cyborg clenched his teeth, every swing of his fists sending pain signals up to his brain. His chest chassis on the left side had been dented in and it hurt not unlike the time he’d broken a rib tackling a larger linebacker. On top of that his head was pounding with what he was pretty sure was a concussion, from the IV stand uppercut back in the medbay.

He grabbed for Robin as the demon inside him duel wielded the broken bar and a sparking cable, jolts of stray electricity stinging across his metal hands as he punched and the Boy Wonder evaded, ever-slippery.

The foulest, most profane curses spewed from Robin’s mouth, words Cyborg had never heard their leader utter even when at his most stressed.

“You worthless low-life animals!” his voice was screeching. "All you had to do was stay out of my way!“ The rebar slashed horizontally and Cyborg hissed as he pulled back just short of its flashing point.

"And let you run rampant stealing people’s bodies? Hurting them? That how you get your kicks, asshole?” the half-robot challenged back.

An angry swing aimed at his head, but this time Cyborg caught it, hand gripping tightly around the end and summarily pulling it from Robin’s hands.

“I’ll tell you what’s gonna happen—you’re gonna give my friend back right now!” he declared loudly.

The demon inside Robin snorted. "Or what, metal brains?“

The live cable was thrust against Cyborg’s side.

Cyborg yelled, keening in agony, as the electric jolts shot through him. His knees buckled but he didn’t collapse, doubling over and swinging out a hand blindly to ward off the attack.

Robin struck again, digging the sparking end into Cyborg’s shoulder, and this time he did hit the floor, hands clenched into fists, paralyzed by pain.

"You gonna hit me? Shoot me?” came the mocking challenge, as the demon pressed him down sadistically. "Anything you try to do me you’re doing to your friend as well.“

Through the stabbing fire a thought lit up in Cyborg’s head. His twisted face grimaced apologetically.

"I’m really sorry about this, man,” he said.

“What—?” the demon started to blurt.

Cyborg’s hand shot up and closed around Robin’s wrist. The half-robot pushed up to his feet, twisting the cable and Robin’s hand around until it touched the boy’s chest.

He shrieked, throwing his head back with an agonized scream as the electricity coursed through him.

***

Lightning struck suddenly from the sky, pluming down upon Ypnefiáltis, burning up the street, the grass, the trees, shattering windowpanes all up and down the way.

He gave a bellowing cry, his shout rending in the open space.

The lightning ripped all along the mindscape, crawling up buildings, piercing through rock. With a loud burst the storefront barrier shattered, and Beast Boy whipped into an octopus and dug tentacles into the mud inside, prying Robin loose, pulling him out through the jagged edges.

He gasped heavily as his face was uncovered, coughing out dribbles of mud that had been forcing their way down his throat.

Beast Boy pulled him free from the sludge, morphing back to normal and hovering in concern as Robin inhaled awkward, halting gulps of precious air, doubled over on hands and knees.

Raven had shielded herself from the lightning blast by coiling her raven avatar in a ball around herself. Now her energy dissipated, and she looked up at the clearing sky and down at the dazed form of the demon, stirring finally from a prone position on the ground.

“Do it Raven!”

The order came from Robin, up on his feet now, firm and determined.

“Do it now!”

Raven nodded, descending at once to the street to retrieve the book from its hiding place. It opened at once to the folded bookmark, and Raven set her feet down and breathed in once, slowly.

“Iorondium caelix sans, malkizek vash origari…” she recited.

Robin and Beast Boy ran across the way, towards the fallen dream demon, who seemed so much smaller now, grabbing hold of him from both sides and holding him in place.

His snake-like eyes blinked out of their daze, widening in horror.

“Pernicum vax theotok regula!” Raven chanted louder.

The sigils on the page blazed white.

“No! No!” cried the demon. He wrenched in the boys’ hold, panicked.

“Hoffernaff tabon dristar caliki caelum THAN!” Raven’s voice swelled in volume as she shouted the last words.

The sigils grew blinding, ripping from the pages and twisting together, becoming a beam of pure white light.

The beam arced through the air until it impaled Ypnefiáltis straight through the stomach.

“Nooooooooooo!” he screeched, the light melting through him, turning the cracks of crimson into piercing white, splintering him from the inside out.

With a final explosive burst, he shattered, pieces ripping away, the storm clouds in the sky dissolving, mud bubbling, mist taking everything and pulling it all away, blurring the cityscape into moving shadows that dimmed into utter darkness and silence.

***

Robin’s eyes fluttered open and he gasped, jerking his head.

“It’s all right,” Cyborg assured him, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. "You’re awake. He’s gone.“

The Boy Wonder relaxed, and sat up with a pained groan.

"You electrocuted me?” he said hoarsely.

Cyborg cringed. "I’m really sorry. I had to.“

"Note to self: Will shoot the hostage,” Robin muttered. A weight slammed into him from the side. "Ugnh!“

"Forgive me, Robin!” Starfire sobbed, arms tightening around him, pressing herself into the embrace. "I allowed myself to slip! I put all of us in such horrible danger!“ she cried, warbling with guilt and dismay.

He wrapped arms around her, burying his face in her hair.

"I’m just glad you’re okay,” he breathed softly.

Soft footsteps sounded on the stairwell. The other three looked up to see Raven and Beast Boy coming down, the empath limping and practically hanging off Beast Boy’s shoulder.

She looked them over in concern, her face gaunt and paler than normal.

“Is anyone hurt?” she asked.

“We’re all hurt,” Cyborg replied, waving a hand dismissively. "Don’t even worry about it right now.“

Raven pushed off Beast Boy, staggering upright. "I can still heal—”

“Leave it for the morning, Raven,” Robin interrupted, getting carefully to his feet with Starfire’s assistance. "You’re exhausted. We’re all exhausted. It can wait. That’s an order.“

”…All right,“ Raven accepted. "At least let’s all get back up to OPS.”

Murmurs of agreement rounded the group.

They shuffled, dragging their feet, adrenaline inside them petering out and out and leaving them drained. Robin held his bruised back and Cyborg wordlessly reached up and ejected the Max 7 chip from its port, tapping on his arm to reboot and restore his programming.

Beast Boy was the first to yawn, and then all of them were, stretching their mouths wide, blinking, rubbing their eyes. There was a very thin crack of sunlight peeking over the horizon when they finally made it, stumbling and weary, up to the common room.

Robin wasn’t sure who it was who first moved towards the couch, but moments later Starfire was curling up under his arm, with Cyborg sprawled out behind them, his head tilted back, already snoring, powering down. Robin shifted to get more comfortable, the lingering sedative in his bloodstream catching up with him, slowing his body, sinking him down into warmth. Beast Boy hopped up into his lap in kitten form, kneading his legs before curling up and tucking his soft tail underneath himself.

“We should… take today off…” the Boy Wonder murmured softly, eyes closed, breaths deepening.

“Mmmhmm…” Starfire agreed tiredly.

Raven was the last to slide down onto to couch, pulling her feet up on the cushions, leaning softly against Cyborg’s side.

She let herself fade to the deepening sense of peace.

When the sun finally crested the ocean, beaming orange over the room, it fell across all five teens in their quiet pile, sound asleep.

#whumptober2020 #Teen Titans #robstar #bbrae #robin #cyborg #beast boy #raven #starfire #fanfiction #prompt fics #someone please let these children have a nice long nap #platonic pseudo siblings

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feathered-serpents · 3 years

Text

The Official Post About the TMA Dragon Age AU

I talked about this before but have now finally made a long ass post with everyone’s roles + past roles but cleaned up. I love TMA and Dragon Age just That Much (Only the first couple descriptions are Super Long and the rest are under the cut)

(If there’s typos in this I’m sorry this has been in my wips for so long I’m so TIRED OF LOOKING AT IT)

The Tower

All Circles of Magi are governed differently depending on the templars that run them, this circle is known for having some...odd practices. The mages within are largely tasked with the study of the more “forbidden” practices. Especially the Fade and demons. They’ve become known for their expertise in this area, and reports of demonic possessions or any other “dark and forbidden” occurrence is brought to them.

This is done with the Chantry’s consent, with the belief that the understanding of such things is the best method to learning to combat them, but it has given this Circle a bit of a reputation among the rest. It is allowed by the Chantry under the assurance all research is done under Knight Commander Elias’ strict supervision, and all findings are given directly to him.

The tower itself is particularly tall, and has a glassy structure at the top that can be used as a viewpoint. Those passing by it and the few that live near find its gaze unnerving, gaining it the name “The Eye.”

Jon

Jon is an elven man, not unskilled in magic, but not nearly the skill level one would expect of the newly appointed First Enchanter of the circle. There were several mages more senior than him who could’ve easily taken the position after the previous Enchanter’s death, and no one is more aware of this than Jon himself. The obvious doubt coming from his fellow mages has not at all helped to ease the pressure of this sudden change in rank. Nor has the arrival of an apostate, allowed to enter the circle under the approval of Elias, and without any consent from Jon.

Regardless, Jon takes his role as First Enchanter incredibly seriously, trying his hardest to fill a role much to big for him. He has to, he owes Elias so much.

Jon has been in the Circle since he was eight years old, far younger than most find themselves gifted with magic. Jon might have still been able to live outside a Circle for a few more years had it not been for the “incident in his village.” Never has anyone in the Circle heard him speak of it, Jon himself giving no indication that anything of the severity of what happened occurred, but Elias knows.

Any other Circle would have executed him instantly for what he did. Child or not, the whole village saw how he summoned a demon to kill a boy in his village. Sometimes evil is simply bred from birth. But Elias took him in, and has not whispered a word of it.

Martin

A half-elven man, though Martin is an example of the rare scenario in which a half-elf looks more elven than human. His father the elf, and his mother the human, his father walked out on their family when his mother began to show signs of some sort of illness. Martin was too young to remember him, but his abandonment left his mother with a deep bitterness towards Martin and all elves, something he had to quietly live with.

Martin has, unlike most mages, lived the majority of his life outside a Circle. He began to show signs of magic when he was fifteen, and disappeared from normal life because of it. Doing his best to go unnoticed so he could continue to live outside of a Circle and care for his mother. Martin never used his magic openly, even going as far as to conceal it from his mother, but he did use it to assist him in making potions to ease her pain as her illness worsened. To this day, he does not know his true magic talents, if he has any beyond potion brewing at all.

He was only recently turned over to the Circle after ten years of life as an apostate. He doesn’t know how he was discovered, and has had trouble adjusting to life inside a Circle. Where he’s under constant supervision and his First Enchanter determined to hate him for his “dangerous lack of skill.”

Tim

Tim doesn’t seem to take the study of magic nor the practices of the Circle seriously. He constantly toes the line of what’s “allowed” in a circle tower, making him the bane of the Templars and a controversial figure among the mages. Some say his antics are fun, while others say it brings on unneeded- and unwanted- Templar attention.

The reality of it is that Tim is actually a very skilled mage, always surprising people with what he knows, and he hates the Circle to his core. He and his brother both were mages, taken from their home young, and when the time came for their Harrowing, the proving that they are able to master their magic, and will not be a danger, Tim passed, and his brother did not.

Sasha

A talented mage, and many believe, if the Knight Commander was going to chose such a young mage to be the new first enchanter, it should have been her. If Sasha herself is disappointed, she doesn’t show it, what is she going to do about it? No, Sasha would rather focus on keeping herself busy, she’s in a tower after all, it can feel very small very quickly if you don’t have something to do.

She is one of the tower’s most prized researchers, and she is particularly fearless in their studies in demonology, and while he hasn’t made her First Enchanter, Elias has indeed taken quite an interest in her.

Daisy and Basira

Two of the most notorious Templars in the tower. “Daisy” as she is called by her partner, is the Knight Captain, one step below Commander. Elias keeps a frighteningly tight hold on all the Templars below him, but he especially seems to have quite the hold over her. She is feared by the mages, as she is known for dealing the harshest punishments. Her gaze is inescapable, the mages say she stalks the halls of the Tower like some hungry animal, waiting for your single misstep, her excuse to strike.

Basira is often seen with her, and while she isn’t held on as tight a leash nor is she as cruel, she never speaks up against her partner’s actions. Making her no more favorable in the mages’ eyes.

Georgie

A Chantry scholar, with an interest in the study of the occult, anything forbidden caught her eye, this made her a bit of an outcast amongst her fellow sisters. But what did she care? Georgie’s research eventually lead to her briefly gaining the ability to study in the Eye, she being one of the very, very few to willingly seek out and ask for entrance into the tower. She was allowed, but just barely. She was permitted to study in the library under only the strict supervision of the templars as well as assistance from a tower mage. This assistant, came in the form of an Enchanter by the name of Jon.

He did indeed help her with her studies and in the process the two formed a romantic relationship that they were able to carry on in secret for quite some time. They were both smart enough to be very, very careful, and carried the relationship almost exclusively through notes and whispers, it was thrilling for a time, but where could it go? The relationship ended, as one could argue it was always doomed to, and the two have not seen each other since.

Georgie did go on to publish some of her studies in books. Several of her works were banned by the Chantry, but they have earned her a bit of notoriety, and just might have found their way into the tower’s library.

Melanie

An apostate, like most apostates, one that never stays in one place for long. The Chantry IS aware of her, as she tends to leave, at least in their words “a path of destruction” in her wake.

The reality of it isn’t as dire, but she is more than willing to use her magic to defend herself, and that magic might become a bit untamed if she’s angry, and she might be angry often. What? Wouldn’t you be? She’s never known another way to be, never known another way to stay safe. She doesn’t like it. She knows this is all because one woman said one line hundreds of years ago, and people have decided to damn her for it. She didn’t have to live like this. Wouldn’t you be angry?

Elias

Knight Commander of the Eye. All things considered, he is a rather...lenient Commander, selectively at least. He is known for being especially merciful towards apostates, while many Knight Commanders execute adult mages that have thus far lived outside of a circle for their “danger to the tower mages” Commander Elias will take them in, and offer them a place in his tower. It doesn’t exactly matter what goes on IN the tower after that, at least those mages are allowed to live somewhere.

Of course, mages in the tower tend to go missing often, but who outside is going to notice?

He claims that the research he has the mages doing on the Fade and demons is known and approved by the Chantry, but the reality is if the Chantry knew exactly what went on inside this tower, and what was being allowed, his Circle would be annulled in an instant, and Elias is well, well, aware of it. But what’s the worry? So long as he is Knight Commander, the Chantry will never find out, he’s quite proud of his ability to forge reports.

The realities of Elias’ existence are far, far worse than anyone can imagine. Elias is one of the original Tevinter mages that sought to enter the Fade, extending his life through grizzly, hellish blood magic. Thousands of years ago, he and his fellow mages entered the fade to take their place on the throne of the Golden City, but we all know the story, there was no throne, and the city was black.

But what destroyed Elias’ fellow magisters sparked something in him. Oh, there was a city, empty and godless, with a bare throne for the taking. Whoever sits in it, becomes the god of this world and whatever world comes after. This is what the Eye is truly researching, a way back in, a way for Elias to wear the crown of the gods.

#TMA #Dragon Age #The Magnus Archives #I spent way too much time on this for something that only 5 people are going to care about #but that's fine

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toothpastecanyon · 3 years

Text

Mauvana, Chapter 10

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

It was a cramped little space, this escape pod. Cramped with memories - maybe Mauvana should’ve mentioned this before she let Yly drop her off here.

“Me n’ the family’ll be just upstairs if you need anything, okay?” She’d said, and then smiled. “Hopefully this’ll give you some space to think.”

Family. Family. This felt like a family. She could feel so many different people here, people who’d used this place to store old clothes, children who’d played hide and seek, a young woman who liked to come down here and watch the stars go by in peace… all using it for an escape, in some way.

Escape. Mauvana found it hard to focus on what she was drawing, but she found herself drawing something nonetheless. Up above her, she could hear the sounds of music, of laughter; she could still feel their thoughts pressing down on her, but a little distance took the edge off.

They were happy thoughts. They were smiling, and she smiled too.

She smiled. She smiled. Mauvana was… free, finally, from all of this. And she could see the stars. And she knew exactly what she wanted to do, now.

A thought. A mind. Not her mind, and not Yly’s either.

There were footsteps coming down the ladder, quiet ones. Mauvana looked up, and frowned when a lady peeked her head through.

“Oh,” she said, surprised that Mauvana was already staring at her. “Uh, hi.”

“Uh, hi.”

“You remember me, right?” She tilted her head. “I’m-”

“Viana.”

It was Viana. Mauvana had been her thoughts for a time, had felt her years of crushing loneliness, had ran for her and kissed her in front of the family shop for so long it felt like eternity. It was Viana, and Viana nodded.

“Yeah. And you’re Mauvana, right?”

“Mauvana Seep.” She put down her pencil. “Intern with modest skill in writing and drawing… though I guess I’m not anymore? I think I’m a pirate.”

A shiver passed through Viana’s mind at that. Before she had a chance to respond:

“You don’t like pirates?”

“What? Heh… it’s just, it’s maybe not a great thing to call yourself around these parts.” A nervous chuckle. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think I’d see you without Yly.”

“Yeah, she says you have a problem with crowds? She offered to come with, but I didn’t want you to be stressed out.”

Stressed out? That probably wasn’t the best way to explain it, but Mauvana let it go.

“I just wanted to… to say something to you.” Viana made like she wanted to hold her hands, but stopped short. “I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you, Mauvana. Thank you so much.”

The lump in Viana’s throat matched the lump in her thoughts, filled with so many emotions she could hardly put into words. Mauvana felt herself tear up.

“Yly… told me what happened, h-how long she spent… trying to get back… and h-how you, you finally got her out of there and I just…” She covered her mouth; her words came out now as a croak. “I-I d-don’t know how I-I can ever th-thank you enough.”

Gratitude. The sheer amount of gratitude in her thoughts was overwhelming, like a whole crowd on its own. She could hardly see the page in front of her, but she felt herself drawing as she tried to recompose herself.

“I just… I… s-sorry, heh.” A shaky laugh. “T-told myself I-I wouldn’t cr-ry, b-but look at me.” A deep, deep breath: in, and out. “I just wanted… wanted to say that if you need anything, anything at all, I’m in your debt. Our whole family’s in your debt for… f-for bringing her home, just… just let us know what we can do.”

A sniff. She wiped her eyes, and frowned.

“Oh, no. I didn’t mean to-”

“make you cry. It’s okay.”

“Wh- what?”

“She means a lot to me. Yly.” Mauvana frowned. “Or you. I don’t know.”

Confused thoughts - they were less intense than before. Mauvana - she was Mauvana - stared past her, to the very back of the escape pod.

“I remember how many nights I used to spend down here.” She stared out, out into the sea of stars past that little window. “I used to come down here even before Yly went missing, when I couldn’t bear being with her family - they were lovely, but… they weren’t mine. I liked to think they were somewhere out there, somewhere far away. At least that’d mean they’d escaped the fucking UL.”

Viana recoiled somewhat at her words. “What…?”

“And then after Yly-” Mauvana swallowed hard. “The first week after she was meant to come back, I was watching for her ship. I didn’t move, I didn’t sleep, I didn’t stop staring out of th-this window; her mother had to bring me food. I couldn’t… couldn’t leave. Not while I still thought she’d come back to me.”

Mauvana looked down. Brought her legs up to her chest, and buried her head in them.

“A-and… I’m sorry, Yly. I’m so sorry I stopped coming down here. I’m sorry I stopped waiting for you.” She spoke, quietly. “I’m sorry I moved on.”

And it was silent. Dead silent. Viana had gone clammy white; her mouth was opened wide, wordless. After a few moments, she stammered out,

“Wh-what the hell are you?”

“I’m not you.” Mauvana frowned. “No, I’m not you. I’m a pirate.”

“How did you do that? Wha- how did… what?”

“Head in the clouds.” She stared at Viana’s shocked face, scared thoughts, and made a face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be you.” A pause. “I have a problem with crowds.”

“It’s… it’s okay,” Viana managed, weakly. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to be rude, I was just… that was…”

“Personal.”

“That’s a… yeah.” She sighed, and glanced out of the window. “Yeah… how did you know that?”

“Head in the clouds.”

“What does that mean?”

She shrugged. “That’s what Jargon always said. I’m his intern - was his intern.”

“Internship, huh?” Viana laughed, but her thoughts didn’t laugh with her. “I’m surprised there’s still jobs at all on that hunk of rock.”

“There are in the military! I drew up tons of posters about enlisting.”

“Oh, joy. You worked for the propaganda guys?”

“Yeah! It was fun!” Mauvana gave a crooked smile. “Then I got shot. But then I met Yly! So it wasn’t all bad.”

Viana chuckled. “Well, uh, glad you had fun… how long did you have that job?”

“They said five years.”

“And what did you do before that?”

“Before… what? Before my internship?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Things, I guess, but… I don’t remember anything before my internship.” She shrugged. “I was just… so many people for a long time, it was a big city. I have a problem with crowds - they, they get in my head, you know? And then I don’t know who I am, I’m just… other people, and their thoughts.”

“I see.” Viana’s thoughts were slow, apprehensive, full of growing dread. “You… really don’t remember anything but the last five years?”

“No. Nothing.” She looked up at the window. She could see the stars, but she could also see her own reflection. Her own face, and the wrinkles in it, the whiteness of her hair, the age. “I… I missed a lot of my life. I’m old, aren’t I? Older than you.”

She didn’t have to see Viana’s solemn nod to know her answer.

“Yeah, that… that’s not good. That’s a right pickle.” A pause. “I know you want to hug me. You can do that.”

Viana hesitated. She reached out, touched Mauvana’s shoulders, and then pulled her into a quiet hug. She squeezed tightly, and Mauvana noted the strange shirt she was wearing. It wasn’t a uniform; it was thicker, brighter, softer, warmer. She poked at it.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you, Mauvana.”

“I like your shirt.”

“I- oh, thank you. I knitted it myself.”

“Knitted?”

“I made it myself.” Viana drew back a little, and smiled. “I can make you something too, if you like. Get you out of those UL rags.”

“I’d like that a lot.” Mauvana kept feeling her sleeve. “And… you don’t have to feel bad for me. I missed a lot, but I know who I am now. Or, at least, I can find out. You can help me with that, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then… could you tell me who Alcor the Dreambender is?”

“Alcor the- the demon?” Viana let out a startled laugh. “Sure, I know a bit… why?”

“Because he’s with the Dread Pirate Mizar. And they’re important, I think. To me. I don’t know why, I want to know why.”

“Ah, you’re talking about the - what’s it called - the Alcor-Mizar connection, right?” She nodded. “I’ve heard about that. Apparently it’s some big mystery in the field of demonology.”

“Saulji. Yly said her aunt is a demonologist. Can I talk to her?” Mauvana felt her mood drop at that. “Oh, you’re sad now. Did I say something wrong?”

Viana shook her head. “No, no, don’t- don’t worry about it, Yly didn’t know, but… she passed away three years ago. Accident at work.”

There was a lot left unsaid in those words; Mauvana grimaced at the details popping up in her mind. “I’m sorry. That’s not good.”

“No, it’s… a dangerous business, you know? I’m sure, heh, she’d’ve loved to talk your head off about this subject, but… yeah.” Viana paused for a moment, nodding to herself. “Yeah… I think I know where you could find your answers, though.”

“Where?”

“It’s on an ex-UL planet called Kepler 22-b. Called the, uh, Stanley Pines Memorial Library, it’s a hub for a lot of demonology research - Saul used to go there for conferences. You heard of it?”

“No. Can I go there?” Mauvana gave a crooked smile. “I think I’m banned from the UL.”

“It’s ex-UL, don’t worry. They broke away a long time ago, there’s no sympathisers there.”

“That’s good. I want to go there now.”

“Then I promise, we’ll take you there.” Viana smiled. “Give us a few days to get Yly settled in, but after that, we’ll go right there, and find you your answers. Does that sound good?”

“That sounds good. Thank you, Viana.”

“Thank you. Really.” She put a hand on Mauvana’s shoulder, and then chuckled. “I won’t, I’ll try not to get all teary again, I know you didn’t like that. Do you want me to leave you alone for a bit?”

“I’d want that. I have a problem with crowds.”

“Okay.” She squeezed her shoulder once, and then stood up. “I’ll leave you be, then. Yly’ll probably be down here in a bit to check up on you, and then…” She smiled. “I could come down here too, if you want. Hey, I could teach you a bit about how to knit.”

“Oh, that’d be great! I love your shirt!”

“Hah, yeah, we’ll do that then!” She grinned, and her aura felt warm. “It was really, really great to meet you, Mauvana. I’ll see you soon - good luck on your drawing!”

“Thank you! I’ll see you soon too!”

Viana waved as she stepped out. Mauvana could feel her footsteps down the corridor, up the ladder, her mind returning to the crowd upstairs like a drop to the ocean. If she concentrated, she could track her washing over to another mind that might be Yly… but she should stop, it was already making her head hurt.

She looked down instead, down to the drawing in her hands.

It was still… frustratingly rough. The lines were shaky; she could make out what it was, but it annoyed her nonetheless. It was of the view outside, of the moon and the planet, the sun and the stars, the stars so far beyond, full of answers and just waiting for her to come.

Kepler 22-b. Mauvana looked from the drawing to the real thing, and knew that somewhere in that darkness, it was there, and she could go there.

She could go there.

Her reflection smiled back at her.

It was good to be free. Even if it had taken a long time, it was good to be free.

#transcendence au #mauvana #Mauvana Seep #space #toothwrites

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ouijaasylum · 4 years

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Never Play Alone, Halloween Collab Special Pt. 1

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The time has come everyone it is now time for the spooky. >:3

DISCLAIMER: This is not connected to the cannon of "Never Play Alone", it is merely a fun little collab idea I had with a friend. I guess you could technically say it takes place in an alternate timeline.

Alright, so in honor of spooky month I though it would be fun to make a crossover collab with @heck-damn-so-i-draw , mixing her bbs Ghost Adventures AU with the Ouija Board AU/Asylum AU. So throughout the month of October, starting today, Dawn and I will be rotating perspectives of this crossover(Dawn doing a take of her AU, while I do my take on this one). The first few posts will be sort of setting up for the big meet up, then the fun will begin.

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this. We spent a lot of time working on this and have been preparing for a few months now. I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as we did making it. ^^ This is the first bit of the collab, the next part will be posted on Dawn's account soon enough.

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Ohm sat on the couch of his home reading, sitting in front of him on the coffee were several other books on the paranormal and a few on demonology as well. Ever since he had accepted the fact that Luke wasn't going to just leave him alone he started to learn how to deal with the demon and his antics every day. Overall he had successfully gotten back to a normal life and had begun using his spare time to learn more about the more spiritual side of the world. While he was intrigued by mythology, he was particularly interested in paranormal hauntings. He used the fact that he had a demon as a roommate to his advantage while he was studying, being able to determine what was true, what was mere speculation, and what was nothing more than false teachings. He would spend hours reading and researching, having Luke help him correct false information in his books, and even talking with other demonologists who had spent years on their research. His studies and knowledge about the paranormal lead him to apply for a degree in demonology, that was the easy part. Once he got the degree that was when the real work started, he searched for genuine books online, would drive to different states to talk to wiccans, psychics, and empaths as a way to learn all he could about his new feild. He spent well over a year travelling around and learning all he could about the spiritual part of the world; the good side, the bad side, and everything that laid between. After getting his degree he would occasionally help local paranormal groups on their investigations in the areas that he visited, slowly building a name for himself in the paranormal community as well. He sighed softly as he marked his page on the book he was reading, and closed it gently before laying it on the table in front of him.

He had been spending so much time on his research lately, that he had both mentally and psychically drained himself. He spent weeks running to libraries all over the state trying to get all of the resources he needed, convincing most libraries to let him buy the books he needed so he wouldn't have to return them later on. On top of all of his trips to libraries, Ohm would also turn to the internet visiting wikipedia's sites, Yahoo, Google, and even Bing. He would visit any platform he believed could help him learn more. His favorite way of getting information was by reaching out to people claiming to be professionals, he would contact them and get their opinions on things he had gone through in the past with Luke, then base how much he trusted their answer by how accurate the reply was. He didn't think much about the groups he would join and enjoyed talking with people who were open to his opinions as well. He loved learning more and more about his new field of study and he wasn't planning on slowing down at any point. However, his head was spinning from all of the information he had been forcing into it and at the moment he wanted to do nothing more than get a little relaxing in.

He leaned back into the couch and picked up the remote, turning in the tv in front of him. "Calling it quits a little early today, aren't you Bunny?" Luke asked playfully as he manifested next to Ohm on the couch, getting a groan from the man at the nickname. "Why do you always insist on calling me that?" He asked quietly, not really paying the demon much more attention as he flipped through the channels before landing on a ghost hunting show he had watched for a while. "Because it's fun to aggravate you, why else?" The demon said back with a chuckle, before looking at the tv to see what Ohm had chosen to watch. He would never understand what Ohm found so entertaining about a group of guys running around in search for spirits, especially since most of the interesting facts the show spewed out Ohm had already learned from his studies, but it wasn't Luke's choice it was Ohm's. Suddenly a small idea popped into the demon's head, and he looked over at the dull eyed male with a mischievous smile. "You know what would be fun..." He asked, gaining the human's attention almost immediately, as Ohm looked over at him questioningly. "If we fucked around with these guys." He said playfully, making Ohm scoff and roll his eyes playfully back at the demon. "We are NOT going to do that Luke. The last thing I need right now is to have my reputation ruined because you're bored." Ohm said, before bringing his attention back to the screen. He could hear the demon huff next to him, making Ohm smile slightly in victory, not thinking there would be any way that Luke would be able to mess with the investigators on the television. Oh how wrong he was...

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Now for the month of October there won't be any additions for the actual story, but it will pick back up again once this collab ends. ^^

Also since these are all just little drabbles they won't be as long as "Never Play Alone" chapters. So they will be shorter posts but my drabbles will play off of Dawn's and vice versa.

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#ohmwrecker #ohm #ohmie #cartoonz #toonz #toonzy #toonzie #vanossgaming #bbs terroriser #terroriser #i am wildcat #basicallyidowrk #ouija board au #ouija!au #bbs ghost adventures au #ghost adventures au #friend collab #spooktober #collaboween

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floralkittygambler · 3 years

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Reposting for reasons

Response to Honest’s post here: Doing this to spread this awareness more as I know theres a bit of a rift in the critical community - plus I really fucking go on. Im PISSED and I do apologise however it NEEDS urgent addressing. I know people will hate me for it but Im used to hate and honestly? Hating rather than helping to solve the issue only furthers my fucking point here. So yeah this is so more people are aware (no offense to any of those involved in said rift either, but this is an important message. Thank you for understanding and if I can do anything to make all sides comfortable, then please message me and I’ll do my upmost.) “ More awareness of this is needed. Even if it’s your favourite, you can’t justify their shit but rally against another’s shit. Have people tell you you’re experiences arent real or invalid because, like Husk, people have - in real life - shipped you with someone you are far from comfortable with but you still treat them like a person. Because you have basic respect. And people force you to accept harassment, touching, stalking, advances for THEIR satisfaction. People use you for their fantasies. But you’re just a ‘tsundere’ for it. Or you have addiction issues but people think being with another addict will ‘save’ you because you’re apparently too incompetent to save yourself. Love isnt some magic fuckin cure so stop romanticising it as a fuckin saviour. It’s gross and fuckin creepy. Get stalked and have someone NEVER accept your no just because you show youre still decent enough to not treat them shitty or any different from anyone else. Try having someone way older or way younger (both in morally fucked up ways) advance on you and people encourage that. People you’re supposed to feel safe around.

People touch you when you pull away or show discomfort. Follow you home. Have pictures of you and wont accept you dont like them like that and it’s not ‘playing hard to get’ or ‘the thrill of the chase’. Fuck. OFF. In fact, Im not only disappointed in the fandom. Im disappointed in the entire team who some should know better from their OWN personal experiences - or at least the bare minimal of being a fucking adult. Im disappointed in especially females (sorry idk whether girl or woman is more appropriate here-) who statistically are more likely to have experienced something similar at some point in their lives think this is a cute gay moment. No. Angel is made out as a fucking predator - Im not saying he is, Im saying that his persistence is very fucking unwelcome like one. People like Husk dont need that fucking invasiveness. They/We need patience and someone on our level. Angel’s I know are the fuckin polar opposite - and some of them I know are very sexually harassing, including unwanted touching. It’s a shitty way to present gay people. Gays are fuckin people. Some are cunts and some arent. It’s a HUMAN thing. But considering the shit theyve been subjected to, presenting a gay as a victim only to also show them as a perpetrator is insulting! And for those Ive seen argue this about how people like AD wouldnt know how to express their love normally and whatnot? His pig. His best friend. He’s in his fucking 30s. There are literal real life criminals who get molested as kids and then go on to molest kids. Not all who grow up like that turn into nonces. Stop just fucking STOP justifying and romanticising this bullshit! I used to see the good in AD but now he makes me fucking sick. Especially with my verrrrrry fucking real traumas and connections. But fuck me, eh? Because this fictional guy matters so much more. Fuck real victims. And whilst we’re at it, fuck AD too when it suits your fetishes! Sarcasm aside, the fans and the team need to straighten up their abhorrent behaviour. Stolas. Fucking clearly having an affair, knowingly fucking up his daughter’s mental health and bribing a guy into sex who only wants the book and nothing more. He even has a fucking warning button over Stolas- Guys, how do you think any of this is cute? Even the team gross me out- I genuinely see potential and talent and it’s all gone to shit to satisfy horny teens, horny adults, and literally everyone who doesnt for the life of them understand being an adult is more than sex, drugs, violence and swears! I REALLY want to keep enjoying HB/HH but it’s getting harder and harder with such ignorant and bordering lazy creators (note: lazy as in wont do the fucking research or actually listen to real criticism and victims), such despicable fans (yeah, some HDers fuckin mocked that they triggered my ED, yet they had the fucking NERVE to support Angel’s potential ED AND laugh and blame me for me getting treated so badly for actually having the balls to call Angel and the teams hypocrisy. I got told to kill myself, that my problems arent real - oh but Angels apparently is! Which... They *are* but AD isnt real so technically only onlookers will suffer and not a drawing - and they just excused their toxic behaviours. These people are like “aww poor angie babey!” yet fuckin INSULT sex workers. All this red in Hazbin yet it feels everyone and they mama colour blind. The issues are getting worse and fans are outright becoming EVIL, VILE, Vindictive little bullies - from kids to adults. You SHOULD be ashamed of yourself if you conduct yourself in such a manner. And you need to readjust your attitudes and behaviours because the only fuckers getting hurt are actual fucking victims. Ever been violated and been gaslit so much you STILL fucking question it’s reality? So you drown that shit out yet somehow it’s effects still hit you? Fetishise it. Make it your uwu gae couple goals, you’re no better than people believing Harley and the Joker werent toxic af. If this shit happened to you, most of you would actually SEE where we’re all coming from. Also, stop making gay a fetish - you’re like those creepy old men in the alley heckling lesbians to make out so they can wank off. Gays, no ALL the LGBT+ are fucking people too. So dont give me that bullshit then start turning everything just gay or just straight to mentally wank off to. It’s degrading and dehumanising. And yes, fiction does effect reality. You crush on a fictional character? Mourn one? Support one? Hell, fuckin jerk off to one - that’s affecting reality. Remember how in fiction all blacks were treated as villians? Look how theyre treated IRL. JAWS, great classic unfortunately their was a spike in shark killings over a fucking movie - the shark in the movie wasnt even real for the most part because they dont behave like that! (Also the animatronic was so shit they genuinely had so many issues - I think they even took to naming each one! Some fun trivia there!). Tiger sharks are more nasty than great whites as tiger sharks will hunt and eat a human. Great whites prefer seals and dislike human flesh, they just mistake us for seals. Hell, theres the toothless basking shark - theyre often SWAM WITH by divers for being so friendly. Yet Jaws made people think all sharks are bloodlusting over humans. Slenderman was created for a fucking contest and that influenced a stabbing (NOT Victor’s fault). Watch a horror movie that isnt based on a real life event and tell me that at least ONE has left you peaking over your shoulder. Stella may be a bitch - we dont know for certain - but try getting cheated on. Y’know what? Try growing up in such a broken home like Octavia. Yeah reaaaaaal fucking cute now, huh? Funny how as well y’all petition for male victims to be taken seriously then laugh when fictional males experience this abuse, further adding to stigma. You can be hit on by the hottest mf on the planet but if you arent interested, that should be respected! Also we’ve all been inspired by at least one fictional character so yeah. Yknow, since I was little Ive been fighting for sex worker and homeless rights. But HH/HB treatment of both leave a bitter taste in my mouth. I’ll still fully support sex workers and the homeless, but that’s the fucking effect this show is having. Bearing in mind I wont ever share everything Ive been through - and I shouldnt fucking have to in order to be believed and validated (obvs proof is required in a legal case but that’s a whole other topic). Why should I share MY fucking pain especially when you fuckers have belittled and triggered it more so? We have our rights to our secrets but fuck ME you lot NEED to start acting appropriately and like decent fucking humans. ‘iTs HeLl’ yeah and welcome to Earth- the team and yourselves live HERE. You obide by THESE rules. And as someone with beliefs (and a LOT of ancient fucking texts and studies on this shit) their Hell isnt even a proper Hell! It’s closer to purgatory and even then it’s not. Regardless, it’s a poorly built world with the lore consistently changing per episode and tweet, with many plot holes, and is apparently easy to get into - even via accidentally watching porn according to a stream. If youre gonna parade youre a fucking expert and research into demonology and use real believed figures, at least get THAT right. In fact, Lucifer and Lilith (and Stolas tbf) are ESPECIALLY risky as theyre a lot more complex than most easy access texts will tell you. Likewise, Stolas’s first introduction and main focus is sex. He’s one of the FEW Goetia demons that dont have some involvement in relationship issues at ALL. He’s known for astrology, crystals and herbs but hes also known to aid MONEY troubles (it’s lesser known but it’s true! HB Stolas is an insult to the Prince). Turning Vodou into something evil is vile considering it’s powerful and liberated slaves. Pentagrams are nothing to do with Satan, they’re magic based sigils. Upside down cross is the symbol of a SAINT. It’s just some edgy attempt to trick people into believing they know more than they do. Also you should NEVER dabble and doodle sigils without knowing the meanings or respecting what they behold. Vox and Val, real fuckin cute way to make them look like a stupid fucking highschool drama instead of a fucking SEX TRAFFICKER (note: real pimps often target YOUNG folks too - aka minors - and groom them into sex work. Theres different types of pimp. Viv has shown barely any understanding of ‘the game’ and its a fucking insult to injury. Yes we KNOW what a fucking pimp and prozzie are! We dont need to see it. We need REAL AWARENESS.) and a fucking scheming bastard of a CEO salesman botman. And yet even THEN lets go a step further and make some yandere wuv on boyfweind aboose! Fuck off- Now I love a good anime but these tropes are getting fucking dangerous now. And unrealistic to real love and relationships. Kids nowadays know fuck all on a healthy relationship (neither did the fuckin 50s tbf) and Im seeing more romaticism and glorifying abusive situations. Like the show ‘You’. Ok, there’s a fuckin bloke online who slaughtered innocents and kidnapped yet people commented how cute he is on his IG and that they want to be kidnapped or killed by him next. Dont believe me? Look up Peter Manfredonia Connecticut and the comments people left him and then tell me why shit like whats being presented in HH/HB ISNT fucking concerning - because it is. For a series about redemption, it’s brilliant at the opposite (Quote from the creator herself, Viv has posted that it’s influencing her bad choices. Even as a joke, proof’s in the pudding). And the overall focus on sex in the way Viv does is so immature and really creepy, and this is from an ADULTS perspective. From one adult to another, Im concerned as to why any of them think this is a normal fixation. Then again they’ve hired quite a large amount of dodgy folks and even a child. Most of this shit gets avoided with a basic background check like most companies run. I DO like Hazbin. Or the premise. I love some of the cast and spite the others. In Helluva, I just like a tiny portion of the cast. And I critique it so harshly because Viv DOES need a wakeup slap, grounding to reality, people who arent going to big her up or kiss her arse for once and shape her up to be the best she can be. The actually reach and even surpass her potential. And to reach where you need to be, there’s a lot of harsh lessons youll face. That’s life. Shes chosen one of the most HEARTLESS industries and if she blocks out critique as ‘hate’ then she’s not strong enough and wont last. It’s just another unprepped YanDev again (except I dont believe Viv to be a nonce. Even with her dodgy past and dodgy present, I think her perspective on sex and relationship with sexuality is FAR from healthy BUT I dont believe she’s a pedophile. Ive bled my fair share and so far, I just think her sex perspective isnt healthy or mature for her age. But there’s little to nothing to suggest actual noncery - dont worry about accusations there. But YanDev is totally a dirty predator. Just clearing that up). Viv NEEDS some harshness and stability if she wants to do things right. And it’ll make her fucking cry but if she loves these projects as much as she claims to, then you’ll sacrifice blood, sweat and tears for that shit. Even the strongest points are mediocre at best when properly observed. She CAN do more, but she’ll have to face the harsh music. Viv wont see this, but if she does, I dont care if it upsets her. Why? Because this is that much of an issue - something she’s cultivated - that she needs to take action and not ignore it or be secretive about it. She needs to grow up and get tougher skin. Im not saying this to cause her pain. In fact, I wouldnt waste my fucking limited time if I DIDNT care. Trust me, I have duties to be met at a certain quota every single day. I say this shit only because I give a shit and care. If we met, she’d fucking hate me. But people like me are good for shaping people up to their potential. And we arent always this ‘tough love’ either. But when someone needs that level of harshness to help themselves, we’re not afraid to lose people or cause upset if the results end up being the best for them. If she ever saw this, she needs to re fucking evaluate her message, her story, and those she’s choosing to welcome into her circle. And all Im seeing is one rookie mistake after the other. Her paid patreon discord. Just like the messages Honest has posted on her side of being harassed (not in Vivs fyi), Ive experienced shit and bullying and even stay silent on their for being attacked for a group I fuckin paid to be in and yet I feel isolated. It’s all arsekissing and ‘thank you viv’ (thats an actual channel-) and it feels like a place of borderline worship and people trying to appease her 24/7 whilst kicking others with different opinions down. There’s so many I love but I aint kissin yer fuckin arse. Ask the closest friend I have - we’re fucking raw and wont just side with each other just because. We’ll call each other out if we think they’ve fucked up and then help each other build themselves up better. Because real fuckin people who actually care wont just want to be adored by you. They’ll care enough to point out your bullshit and help you, even if they upset you at the time. They’re real and upfront with you. People like us arent always the easiest to be close to either because we arent afraid of upsetting someone if it’s in their best interest and to help them. Likewise, we dont go out looking for fights either. Most times, we’re fuckin soft bastards- All this shit listed is the fuckin surface level of the real life hell of this fandom. And unsurprisingly, those who experience little to no toxicity have always been higher on that popularity ‘food chain’ - enough admirers and shared opinions that people wanna arse kiss regardless of their OWN feelings as well as neutral perspectives. I’d say you’re the lucky fans, but you’re not. You’re sheltered, and that isnt always the best way to be sadly. As for the fans. If Ive upset you. Well... I dont care. Because many of you have actively sought me out and weaponised my traumas against me. You never cared about my feelings then. Why should I care about yours? Im not doing this out of malice. Im fed up of humans behaving so pathetically yet claiming to be high and mighty. Most of you have been arseholes to those in and out of the community. The victims and non-victims alike. Hardly any of you considered once my real suffering. You put a drawing over a life. Many lives. You had the audacity to tell me Im full of shit. Some even using my real traumas to make a mockery of me and those Im around with a very similar history. Some with traumatic histories that differ from my own. You hardly ever considered the real lives of those effected. So no, Im not sorry for having the fucking balls to this day to still stand up for our rights and give us a voice that’s long been stolen. Im not sorry for being a fucking victim. Im not sorry for saying what desperately NEEDS voicing. And Im not sorry for not conforming to you or any fandom just to belong. We deserve better than to constantly be your fuckin arse monkeys (well... the trope is butt monkey but yknow-) and to be mistreated, misrepresented and harmed by you. You’re no different to the school bullies who give speeches on anti-bullying day. And I hope every single one of you starts looking into yourselves and improving. PS: Depending on the texts you read, Lucifer is said to have been redeemed or to be redeemed. Fun fact to haunt yalls with~ “

#warning long #long post #hazbin critical #very long rant #important #hear victims voices #just sick of how awful people can treat one another and believe this is acceptable #everyone is accountable #toxic fanbase #Toxic shippers #toxic ships #im literally too fucking old for this #forgive the anger but after years and years it gets so cumbersome and tiring #im happy to be the pariah if it means victims actually get heard and helped

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tobeblamed · 4 years

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PLOT: one wealthy hunter founds a hunter’s boarding school for young adults on a building that was once haunted and named hell’s gate. the school offers a free six-month program that provides aspiring young adult hunters with knowledge and skill on the job through theoretical and practical classes.

** THIS IS A REVAMPED GV ; all previous members have been removed due to general inactivity. if you wish to join verse again, just ask to be re-added !

WELCOME TO HELL’S GATE

BRIEF HISTORY OF THE BUILDING: in 1986, frederick’s boarding school was shut down after a series of mysterious deaths had taken place. the school was soon referred as ‘hell’s gate’, for people thought that the students that were killed there were a result of demons, and it was believed by the small community that there was a doorway to hell that those demons used to come to earth. that part of the story was false, though the people were right to believe that there was paranormal activity in the neighborhood. one wealthy hunter who was passing through took it upon himself to investigate and found that the building was haunted by vengeful spirits. in a matter of a few days, the case was closed, and the man decided to buy the property. he thought he ought to build his own boarding school that would be targeted to young hunters. that way, he could teach others about his own self-taught skills and find a purpose in life even after retiring. a few years later, he had already begun to spread the word about the school among the hunters’ community: he put up posters in roadhouses and other hunters’ go-to places, as he couldn’t promote his school to the public eye. he never even put up a sign. to the outside world, it was merely a remote, private property of someone under the alias robert jones. by 1991, he had welcomed a handful of young people who he had managed to take care of right before realizing he would need some assistance. over the years, he hired self-proclaimed professors, who were just hunters with experience, he brought chefs and maids, as he would sit back and manage the school.

BOARDING SCHOOL RULES:

no students under 18 or over 25 are allowed! there will be risky cases, and the school cannot take any responsibility for them.

each student must share a room with up to 3 others.

students are not permitted to take on cases outside the curriculum.

students are not permitted to carry weapons around. they are only allowed to use them in class under supervision.

attendance to all classes is compulsory.

violence among students gets all participants expelled.

professors are required to assign cases and arrange hunting trips for their students, but also provide them proper guidance.

there is no uniform, but all students are required to wear protection bracelets. they are specifically designed to ward off possession of any kind.

( OOC ) RULES:

no duplicates with the exception of twins.

non-human muses are more than welcome as long as they disguise themselves as humans.

this gv has no discord! apologies, but i don’t use it for rp purposes.

please post muse info / bio within 3 days upon being accepted, so people will have a basic idea of who your muse is ! if you’ve joined before, simply re-post your info in the new gv tag !

track the tag: gv: hunters boarding school and use it when posting gv-related stuff !

activity is not really an issue, but i do appreciate any effort in keeping the verse as active as possible and avoid another revamp !!

be kind to each other, communication is key, ic drama only and yadda yadda

if you wish to leave the group verse, just shoot an ask and we’ll simply have your muse graduate / retire from the school !! please, don’t stay inactive instead !

have fun okie thanks

a note about the timeline: consider the fact that this is a verse established on pre-series. this means, demons are extremely rare, and the existence of angels is a subject for debate. you’re allowed to join as either, but just keep this in mind !

SUBMIT THE SCHOOL FORM:

muse name: fc: muse age: profession ( student / professor - indicate subject ): brief info: to be written once you’re accepted!

MEMBERS:

STAFF ( principal, professors, cooks, consultants, psychologists, etc. ) -

TBA

STUDENTS ( young adults: ages from 18-25 ) -

dean winchester (22) - INFO HERE / fc: jensen ackles ( early years ) - @tobeblamed

sam winchester (18) - INFO HERE / fc: jared padalecki ( early years ) - @sunsymbols

lydia martin (19) - INFO HERE / fc: holland roden - @thewailer

bonnie mccullough (18) - INFO HERE / fc: madelaine petsch - @celticmagicks

lana collins (18) - INFO HERE / fc: kristin kreuk ( early years ) - @hellcures

florence eleanor d’este (19) - INFO HERE / fc: anya taylor-joy - @varyingstorms

lara jean ‘lj’ covey (18) - INFO TBA / fc: lana condor - @shelcved

erica reyes (22) - INFO HERE / fc: gage golightly - @badassbetaerica

COURSES TAUGHT ( professors may choose one to teach or suggest another ! )

PRACTICAL

firearm training

gun safety

knife fighting

combat training

medical training

survival skills

THEORETICAL

gods & monsters

spirits & ghosts

demonology

witchcraft & magic

occult symbols

filing & fraud ( includes assigned undercover cases )

research skills

#gv: hunters boarding school #i missed this verse so i'm bringing it back oops

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fandensflytrap · 4 years

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(( You know, using the year to research for this blog has been kind of fun in a lot of unexpected ways. ))

(( It started out with me trying to figure out more about the viking age and the local folklore of Scandinavia specifically. That’s where it all began since I wanted to better understand what I was writing.

So I start noticing a few repeating patterns cropping up; ‘’And then Chri.stianity changed this concept and we don’t know what the pre-christian context is anymore.’’

But I didn’t want to read the bible so I decided to push it aside for a while. And then I started to build a narrative around the witch hunts and demons and started to read up on Demonology and the witch hunts. And realized demonology was in large part just a thinly veiled excuse for medieval priests to be xenophobic and sexist.

And so I decided; I should probably look into that! Since so much of folklore is connected to Chr.istianity, I have demon characters, I use the witch hunts, I can’t ignore it. I might as well read the bible to understand the context behind the changes, maybe it’ll give me some answers?

It took me a while to do so, but I did it. I read the entire thing. I McFreaking did it.

Aaaaaaaaaand I learned nothing from it. I didn’t understand what I was reading, but I was... less than thrilled about what I read, no denying that. Well, ok, I learned that the devil wasn’t a part of the Old test.ament. The Old tes.tament doesn’t mention demons at all! The New Tes.tament, however, do mention demons a few times.

Sa.tan didn’t become the character they became in Ch,ristian belief before year 500 with little to no basis on what the bible said.

But the bi.ble said nothing that would clue me in on the local folklore, at least. No, I needed to go further into the history. I needed early history on Chr.istianity and how the O.rthodoxy was established and how it spread across Europe before I got some clues on that.

So I decided to look at videos published by Yale for a semester they did on how to read the old testament, to actually understand what I read. And I’m so glad that I did, holy shit, all those nuances flew right over my head as a modern atheist reader. And then their course about the historicity of the New testament. Very fascinating, actually.

It was about how the early church tried to find their footing, learned that the Ne.w-Test.ament is terribly A.nti-J.ew. That the Ch.ristian faith mainly used the Je.wish Bible to springboard a path to make their NEW RELIGION more valid in the eyes of the Romans who squinted hard at new religious movements.

Then I went down the rabbit hole of ‘’historical J.esus’’ for a bit, and that was kind of fun. Pfft. But basically, what I came to conclusion is that: J,esus might have existed, we don’t know, but for arguments sake let’s say he did. That in old Roman beliefs, and in a lot of places around the world, was that people could be raised to the status of Divinity.

A lot of roman emperors had been made Deities that way. That gods could have children with humans and those children could become gods too. That this was a thing that could happen, and was a commonly held belief that wouldn’t be difficult to understand for the average person at the time.

But since I’m getting tired of reading about Ch.ristianity, I jumped back to viking age. Which is just more Church history, electric bugaloo part 2, if we’re going to be completely fair. It’s not like there’s a lot of history to go around that’s not centered around the religious shift.

The myths are highly Chri.stianized too. So we kind of just have to take them for what they are. BUT. There are hints to the pagan past there. So I read about Seidr. (From a modern practitioner, so there was a lot of New Age themes in there, but I’ll read up more factually academic oriented book on Shamanism soon. )

But you won’t believe how many doors just learning about shamanism does to the reading of the myths. Seidr\Shamanism with a dash of Animism is the very foundation, the building blocks to the myths. One has to understand shamanism and animism in order to understand the myths on a more intimate level outside of a modern person’s perspective.

And I was so delighted to realize that for 1. Freya gets a much greater importance in the grand scheme of things. She barely has a presence in the myths, so this discovery was GREAT! 2. It sets up the world view as a much more focused way. 3. It showcases gender in a very different way from what is usually considered the ‘’popular’’ image in modern day and age. Women were practitioners, religious authorities, they would be REALLY important people in the local tribes. 4. Odin is a practitioner as well. Which, I don’t know about you, but I can dig that and the implications they bring.

Then we can move on to the demonization of pagan concepts with that as a springboard. I had this realization earlier, reading about demonology, but pagan concepts were just twisted into becoming demons for people to stop connecting with them.

Pagan holidays were changed to have a Chr.istian meaning. Jòl\Yule In Scandinavia was in January or February. Then some king decided that he wanted to move it to December to celebrate Jesus together with the rest of Europe.

Which in later years resulted in them demonized the ANCESTRAL SPIRITS who would come from the afterlife, to the mortal world, to celebrate Jòl with their living relatives. Eating the food that was left as offerings so the ancestral spirits could have their festivities, eat and drink, while the living slept.

...By turning them into criminals, suicide victims, people who hadn’t gotten baptized, those in Purgatory, and all the others the Church didn’t like. Saying that they will take your soul or kill you if you weren’t careful. Which I’m still not over.

But we can’t talk about the Christianization of the Vikings in Norway without mentioning Saint. Olav Haraldson, or Olav the Holy.

Olav was a rather interesting figure. You can literally not read up on Folklore without him popping in to say hello. So why is that?

Well, essentially, he started out as your average person, born by a king in Norway. What was then expected by the sons of a King at that time, would be to go on a viking raid, so he went to England and terrorized King Æthelred for like... 20 or so years. A king who had been dealing with Vikings terrorizing England for over 50 years.

Olav, funnily, became friends with the King. Was baptized by the King, and swore to be his loyal body guard for as long as he lived.

Then he went back to Norway, bringing with him a Bishop from England to help him make the case for Chri.stianity in Norway.

He went to all of the Kings he could gather, went to the local governmental bodies and stated his case. And it wasn’t difficult to convince the local Kings to accept Chri.stianity as they most likely had been exposed to Christianity in one way or another. Whether it’s from foreigners entering the shores along the coastal lines, or from having gone on Viking Raids\trading with others.

Olav, of course, killed people who didn’t agree with him in a good old fashioned ‘’BELIEVE OR DIE’’ crusade, but shhh.

So when he died, at the battle of Stiklestad, the Bishop he had brought with him made him a Saint. Yeah, we’re returning to that dude.

The Bishop made him a Saint for ‘’taming the vikings’’ and ‘’showing them the light’’. And so, Olav was then turned into a propaganda figure to further the Christian agenda. All with a great divine story and all, with the inclusion of tying in the story beats of Jesus’ life to his character for extra effect.

He was deemed THE ideal leader. The image of HOW a King SHOULD be. The image of a righteous man who did right before God. (Which, funnily, made the Swedes take over the throne as a consequence because no one could measure up.)

They said that when he died, his killed who had gained some injuries through the fight, was the first to notice Olav’s divinity. That his injuries had healed completely. And that once he realized he had battled and killed one of God’s chosen ones, he fled to Jerusalem to repent for his sins.

Then 1 year later after he had been buried, they dug his body up and placed it within the church Nidarosdomen. And the moment his body found its new resting place, he healed the ENTIRE TOWN from all their sickness and pain.

Yeah.

So after that, people began to use Saint Olav’s name to replace the old faith by retelling the old stories. You can pretty much in large part pinpoint where some pagan themes got altered during those retellings.

The Jotun, who were intelligent chaos spirits challenging the order the gods represented (which is... eh, the duality aspect between chaos and order is a christian concept, but it’s what we got) became stupid Christian hating Trolls. Just as an example. Some myths were basically copy pasted with his name inserted into them.

Olav took over the role of both Odin and Thor. And was considered superior to both. He was better at killing the jotuns than Thor was, so Thor gave the mantle to Olav himself...

Which got me to the Paganism side of things. Where I found a statement that went something along the lines of ‘’Maybe the Landvettir\the spirits are being hostile because of how forcefully Ch.ristianity came, forcing a new way of life. Severing people’s spirituality, their connection with nature, the spirits? And then went on to disrespect them at every turn, treating the land spirits as demons for the crimes committed by humans.

And, like... I like that, it makes a lot of sense, actually.

Moving on to a different but related topic; witch hunts and the Scandinavian Devil.

The Scandinavian devil most likely originated as a pagan concept like most things. What that original source is, we’ll never know. But what I find hilarious about the old concepts of the Devil is that they’re represented as ‘’eeeeeeeeevil’’ for...

1. Giving people money and food. 2. Gave women and other outcasts more autonomy and power. 3. Was the midwife to women who gave birth outside of wedlock. And encouraged women to kill said children, children who likely would be unwanted, would ruin her reputation, would push her out of the local community. They basically offered a late abortion through infanticide is what I’m getting at. 4. Taught people how to read and write. 5. Made people question the church’s power structure. 6. Created a space and community where outcast of the society could throw away social expectation. 7. Sexual liberation. (Though the Scandinavian devil was highly sex repulsed and fled from even sexually obscene language. This is more of a... the devil from other places in Scandinavia thing. ) 8. Taught magic. 9. Told their followers to be unpleasant and harm others who slighted them. 10. Took your soul, your heavenly ticket to paradise.

The devil wasn’t a saint, but I just find it hilarious that all of the things they did were deemed bad when in a modern context they were doing really good things.

Which then connects them to witches. The church thought women got kids with the devil. Then they realized, wait, Demons can’t get kids. It’s a succubus\incubus, who helps the devil get the kids. By using the sperm of human men, corrupting it, and then inserting it into women.

And the Succubus\Incubus is their right hand man. Yes. Logic.

And so on, so on. That’s not even touching the anti-semitism that went on during the time, but I’m focusing more on the folk lore aspect of things at the moment.

I dunno. I just find it interesting how it all connects and I’m not even half done researching everything I want to research.

#◼️ OOC #long post #I'm sorry for the ramblings but I'm just amused by everything

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