#merry christmas enjoy almost 2k of dead gods and fucked up relationships

[thewinedarksea]

a christmas gift for the lovely @eunoiaschaos​, who asked for something “dark and dramatic and makes me love the villain,” ft. “dead gods.” hope you like it! 💕

The statues are coming down.

Veseth, one of their last strongholds of faith, resistance broken beneath the jaws of the Silian empire at last, their temples forfeit. The story spans three pages, bracketed on each side by accounts of the war, lists of casualties.

Grainy black-and-white photographs accompany it. Half of the first page is dominated by a shot of the temple’s interior, the arched ceiling punctured with holes, pale light streaming over the ring of statues. Valehn recognizes only two: Arienrel, goddess of the sea, dark arms outspread, and Daemon, god of the harvest, his head topped with a crown of golden leaves. She searches the temple for a hint of past glory, finds only cracked marble columns, old murals faded with time.  

When she turns the page she’s greeted with a full-length picture of the wreckage, the wood of the altar splintered and snapped, piles of rubble lining the aisles. Daemon’s crown is scattered across the ground, leaves bent and misshapen. One of Arienrel’s hands has broken off, the marble fingers reaching towards the uncaring sky.

With a sigh Valehn flips the paper closed, shoving it across the table, and drops her head back. The quiet of the room washes over her, easing some of the stress of the last few days.

The Agartha Club smells of smoke and whiskey and spilt blood, the air thick and warm, filled with soft chatter and the rustling of pages. It’s more refuge than social gathering, a place where the old gods go to remember and the new priests come to learn, trading secrets and knowledge of arcane rites over cups of coffee and honey. A pale imitation of what was, but it’s enough, sometimes, for her to pretend.  

When she closes her eye it’s Il’lythria she sees: the walls swathed in silk, incense heavy in the air, revelers dancing to the wild music, the crush of bodies turning in the violent light. And the gods high above it all, their lips dripping blood and gold, drinking in the worship. Adahris, with his wine-red mouth and feverish eyes, the dark silk of his robes pooling around his shoulders; Caithe, their hair in a hundred delicate braids, prowling the edges of the room; Elohra on her throne, wrapped in chainmail, dusted with rose petals.

The memory dissipates at the sound of someone settling in the chair across from her, the creak of springs loud in the stillness. A disciple, perhaps, one who has not yet learned that Valehn has little interest in reminiscing on the past and even less in being disturbed. Frowning, she opens her eye, an angry retort already on her lips.

But it’s Elohra she finds sitting across from her, a peach in one hand and Valehn’s discarded paper spread out on the table before her. She’s flipped it open to the story on Veseth, her lip curling at the wreckage of the temple, the shards of ancient statues scattered across the floor.

The words vanish from Valehn’s mouth. She chokes instead, the sound strangled and ugly, her heart tightening painfully in her chest. Elohra glances up at the noise and, finding Valehn’s attention on her, brings a hand down on the picture of the broken statues, fingertips spanning Arienrel’s face.

“It’s amazing what mortals will get up to, if we leave them alone long enough,” she says, tapping one bloodied nail against the page. In the dim light of the club her eyes are perilously bright; they glow in her face, radiant as a collapsing sun. Valehn averts her gaze too late, black dots crawling across her vision.

By the time it clears Elohra has set the newspaper aside. One hand now holds a slender knife, the hilt carved to resemble a wolf, mouth open and snarling. Valehn stills, pulse quickening. Her eye lingers on the silver fangs, the tips stained crimson. It’s Elohra’s favorite blade, a present from Adahris. She’d taken it to Valehn a handful of times; she can feel the phantom bite of it against her skin, on her wrists where the scars never healed right.  

“Why are you here?”  Valehn’s voice comes out rough and low, tinged with fear. The corner of Elohra’s mouth ticks up at the sound.

“It’s amazing what you get up to, if I leave you alone long enough.”

Long enough. Elohra’s been avoiding the major conflicts, a rarity for her; Valehn hasn’t laid eyes on her in half a century. Once any separation would have seemed unthinkable. Now Elohra’s presence feels foreign, dangerous, threatening to drag Valehn back into her orbit.

Valehn says nothing and the light of Elohra’s eyes flicker as she rolls them. She tilts backwards until she’s lounging in her chair, kicking her boots up onto the table, the heels leaving scuffs on the hardwood. Paper tears beneath her careless feet, separating Arienrel’s head from her body. Valehn winces at the sound, and again when Elohra kicks the newspaper to the floor with a disdainful noise.

“There have been rumors,” Elohra says. Her knife bites deep into the peach, carving out a generous slice. “About Adahris.” She pops it into her mouth and chews, juice trickling down her chin. “About Caithe.” The blade points at Valehn. “About you.”

“Adahris.” The name fits strangely in Valehn’s mouth, her heart catching again at the mention of him. Cruel, beautiful Adahris, with his cold eyes and clever hands, trailing violence in his wake. Apparently today is the day for reopening old wounds.  

“I haven’t seen him in decades.” Not since the Battle of Navera, where he had retreated into the mountains, wounded and beaten, forces routed and stronghold overrun. Recent whispers placed him in Istane, a remnant of his former self, gathering his followers in a desperate bid for power. Harmless enough on his own, but if Elohra entered the war on his side… Velahn tucks that thought away for later consideration, out of the reach of Elohra and her burning eyes.

“And Caithe?”  Elohra’s mouth twists around the name, eyes flickering dark and molten with hatred.

“We worked together, once.” They’d seen much of each other in those long centuries after Il’lythria, when the world continued on and Elohra was nowhere to be found. “We still keep in contact.”

Elohra’s grip on the knife tightens. The next cut she makes is ragged, tearing at skin. Silence settles over the pair of them, thick and choking. Valehn doesn’t dare to break it, settles for stealing glances at Elohra through her eyelashes, careful to avoid her eyes.

Elohra is beautiful still, and that hurts in a way Valehn hadn’t expected. Most of the other gods have became less than as their temples crumbled and their worshippers dwindled, skin hardening to stone, beauty peeling away to reveal the monster beneath. The only mark time has left on Elohra is in her bearing: her arrogance threaded with exhaustion, the weight of centuries pressing down on the sharp line of her shoulders.

“Are you planning to betray me, Valehn?” Elohra’s voice is flat, the words dropping into the space between them with the finality of a thrown gauntlet. Valehn jerks at the question, her gaze darting upwards.

She is met with the implacable burn of Elohra’s eyes, her face smooth around them. Valehn cannot read her expression. It’s disquieting to think that she can no longer decipher Elohra’s emotions, that there is a part of Elohra that Valehn is not privy to. In all of their time apart it’s the one skill she’d never thought she’d lose. Elohra has changed so much. Or perhaps it is Valehn herself who has changed, shaped by a merciless world into something more than Elohra’s shadow.

“Are you?” Elohra repeats, still flat, still unreadable.

Valehn’s chair protests as she rises to her feet, skirting the table to stand in front of Elohra. Elohra watches, expectant, the knife spinning lazy circles in the air.  

The carpet is thick and soft as Valehn sinks to her knees, the accumulated warmth from the fire soaking into her leggings. When she tips her head back Elohra’s eyes catch on her mouth and linger, the knife going still in her hands, eyes subsiding to a deep flicker.

“I have always been loyal to you,” Valehn says, careful to keep her voice steady. The words ring hollow in her ears. She has not stood by Elohra’s side in decades; the space between them can fit empires. She raises one hand, pressing it to her heart. An old soldier, playing at a loyalty that had once consumed her entire soul.  "Always.“

Elohra softens at the sight of her, something dark and complicated flitting across the blank expanse of her face. Valehn does not dare dwell on it.

“Yes,” Elohra muses at last. “You have been.”

She stands in one violent, fluid motion, tossing the remainder of peach over her shoulder to land on the rug. Her fingers are still sticky with juice when they reach out, trailing along Valehn’s cheek in a parody of a caress, ghosting around the empty hollow of her right eye. They track a path down her face, nails drawing blood where they catch at the skin, coming to rest on the curve of her neck.

“Oh, my love,” Elohra sighs, and Valehn can read her face now, an ancient fury trembling across the whole wild breadth of it. There’s love there, too, raw and aching, unbearable in its intensity, and Valehn shuts her eye in the face of it. Elohra’s grip tightens, and Valehn shivers, desire igniting in her veins, white-hot and hungry. “It is a dangerous path you tread. Take care to remember your place.”

The centuries had killed Valehn’s love as surely as they’d driven a knife into its heart; she’d buried the remains beneath the ruins of Il’lythria, laid it to rest alongside whatever monster she’d once been. But in this moment, with Elohra’s hand wrapped around her throat and the scent of blood thick in the air, she remembers what it was like, thinks that if Elohra asked she would follow her to the ends of the earth and over the edge into the star-speckled nothing beyond.

She doesn’t ask. Her hand falls away, smearing golden juice across Valehn’s skin. When she walks out of the room, the silk of her coat fluttering behind her, she leaves behind the sickly smell of peaches and Valehn, kneeling on the floor, trapped in place by old memories.

It’s a long time before she lets out a shaky sigh and stands, legs weak beneath her. The blood on her face is drying in sticky lines and her neck itches, the weight of Elohra’s hand still vivid, threatening to drive her to her knees once more.

But there is work to be done. Caithe needs to be informed, her network of spies prepared. Valehn knows Elohra, knows the difference between a threat and an inevitability. Elohra is planning a war, and she won’t stop until she’s burned the world or broken it, no matter the consequences.

[irisrecs]

buzzfeed unsolved fanfiction recommendations

This is all Ryan/Shane— so don’t like, don’t read.

PSA: I am not in any way stating that Ryan and Shane from Buzzfeed Unsolved and Watcher are together, or that I want them to be together; this is for entertainment use only. I urge you to not contact them or @ them on twitter or instagram making comments about their relationship, as they are humans just like the rest of us. Some things are none of our business!

This is a masterlist of my favourite fanfictions in this fandom! Thanks to @gigaledom for cheering me on. Never thought I was going to do more RPF, but here I am.

Under 10k

and i’m puffing my chest, getting red in the face by pissedofsandwich- 6k, Teen

Summary: "Zack's going to be there?" Shane asks, masking his... whatever it is he's feeling in his chest, with nonchalance.

Ryan blinks. "Yes?"

Well, never mind dancing with the fucking sun. He’s Icarus, wings melted and falling face-first into the asphalt.

Or: Shane is definitely not at all jealous of how close Zack and Ryan are getting during the making of Sports Conspiracies. Except that he is.

My notes: They’re both so jealous of each other and so bad at communication. Thank goodness they have their friends to help them out! Really funny and entertaining!

lay your demons at the door by abovetheruins— 7k, Teen and Up

Summary: Ryan had been so careful. For months he had learned to train his face into a semblance of normalcy every time a spirit got too close or he was overwhelmed with some indiscernible emotion on location. He had learned to channel his fear into something more manageable, something entertaining enough for the cameras but not so severe that anyone would be able to tell he wasn’t just jumping at shadows or groaning floorboards anymore.

Shane wasn’t supposed to find out. He wasn't supposed to know.

My Notes: The Seer!Ryan AU that I wasn’t expecting to like so much. A lot of pining and caring! Shane with a lovely ending!

First Impressions by luxbuhree— 9k, Mature

Summary: The chance to work with and sit next to THE Shane Madej was one of the things Ryan was looking forward to, now that he's starting his first day in BuzzFeed. But while he was expecting a charming and friendly guy, he was instead met with someone who couldn't care any less.

Will the case of why Shane hates Ryan remain unsolved?

My notes: In which Shane is really bad at feelings and Ryan has the hots for a certain person who pins him against walls. Awesome ending.

a short history of almost something by cooliohoolio— 6k, No Warnings

Summary: "I think I'll wait another year."

Shane's in love with Ryan, and will get around to telling him. One of these days.

My notes: A lovely short high school! AU with mutual pining. They’re best friends ahhh

only happy accidents by barnes— 8k, Explicit

Summary: In hindsight, Shane is too old to have thought that friends with benefits was something that the two of them would be able to pull off. He’s had friends with benefits before that worked beautifully, but they were not with people whose jobs were tied up in his own, whose friendships were as closely interwoven into Shane’s everyday life as Ryan’s is. He’d thought these were the very things that could keep it from getting weird, because they were such good buddies, Ryan would be solidly cemented as his pal that nothing could shift him.

This was a miscalculation, on Shane’s part.

My Notes: I’m not usually a fan of friends with benefits to lovers, but this had so much mutual pining and fluff that I enjoyed it so much! A must-read.

Gurl, Imma Marry You (ryan is a mess) by orphan_account— 2k, General Audiences

Summary: Ryan is perpetually doing dumb things. Starting a ghost show? Dumb. Going to demon houses? Dumb. Talking to ghosts? Dumb.

But those are all new dumb things. Ryan's known he wants to marry Shane forever. That is an incredibly old dumb thing.

My notes: Really cute and fluffy and I love it so much. It’s a kind of read-to-make-yourself-feel-better kind of fic!

Por Favor, Sweetheart by carrieonfighting— 8k, Teen and Up

Summary: Two dorks raise a baby and don't even realise they're doing it together until it's too late

Alternatively, Ryan Bergara is Trying His Best Thanks

My notes: Normally not a raising-a-child-fic person, but holy smokes this was written so well and the fluff! the domesticity i-

Pushing All Your Buttons by beethechange— 9k, Explicit

Summary: Ryan and Shane get stuck in an elevator at Buzzfeed HQ. There is tension. They relieve the tension. That’s it, that’s the fic.

My notes: I was literally able to see the tension floating off my laptop in front of my face, it was so palpable.

Under 20k

like you want to be loved by poetdameron— 16k, Teen and Up

Summary: "Settle down with me", Shane says without thinking and as Ryan looks at him with wide open eyes, all he can think of it's how many of Ryan's secrets he knows, how Ryan likes his coffee, and the fact that he has loved him since the moment Ryan first looked up at him and smiled.

My notes: The PINING and CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT and ANGST my god. Really well written and lovely happy ending.

ships that pass in the night by beethechange— 20k, Explicit

Summary: The more Ryan thinks about it, the more he thinks he just needs to return the favor, that’s all. And then it’ll be done, like it was meant to be done weeks ago, and they can both move on for real.

It’s not that he wants to. It’s that he won’t be able to stop thinking about it until he evens the score. He has to restore balance to the Force or order to the universe, or—or whatever. It’s a karma thing.

“I think you have to let me jerk you off,” Ryan tells Shane one night. They’re working late, alone in the Watcher office, one of many such late nights these days.

“Wh—here?” Shane asks. He looks around, baffled, like he’ll have been magically transported somewhere else. “Have to?” And then: “Let you?”

My notes: haha what if I dare you to jerk me off dude haha don’t be a chicken

Do you not know how love works? by leylines— 12k, No Rating

Summary: “Fuck you, man,” Ryan growled, rubbing his tailbone where he landed on when he fell down just moments ago.

“I’m pretty sure that’s what Devon already thinks we’re doing,” Shane said cheerfully, not at all sounding bothered by the thought.

“Oh shut up, dude.”

My notes: One of my favourite things in this cold, dark universe is when two characters are dating but they don’t know it but everyone else does. This is so hilarious and warms my dead heart

Full-Court Press by beethechange— 12k, Explicit

Summary: To be clear, these are not tactics Ryan would recommend. Being an athleisure-obsessed pervert, and lying, and clothes-sabotage: these are not things he’s proud of.

But they have undeniably worked.

Shane’s standing next to him in the hotel lobby while Devon checks them all out of their rooms, and he's wearing a sleeveless purple Lakers jersey and the world’s softest, clingiest sweatpants. It’s so exactly as Ryan pictured it, so precisely in line with his fantasies, that he has to pinch himself.

My notes: Really hot and funny and p i n i n g

may your days be merry and bright by bodhirookes— 19k, General Audiences

Summary: “Your turn, Ry Ry.”

Ryan looks down to find only one piece of paper remaining. “Wow, so much selection to choose from.”

“No time for your negativity, Scrooge. Your Secret Santa deserves a better attitude.”

Ryan sticks his tongue out, but takes the slip of paper. He’s loudly yelling Give me Jen, please please please give me Jen as he unfolds it, but he’s too busy begging for her to be truly prepared for what he ends up getting:

A simple but damning SHANE in Andrew’s scribbly handwriting.

Or, Ryan gets Shane for Secret Santa and has a subsequent breakdown about what to get him

Notes: This is so sweet and cute and I would die for both of them. A lovely classic christmas fic!

want you in my room by beethechange— 13k, Explicit

Summary: As they watch, Tall Guy takes his beanie off, revealing a mess of thick, shiny brown hair. He runs his hand through it to shake out the hat hair and Ryan feels like he’s stuck in an Herbal Essences commercial, except he’s the one making inappropriate lustful noises.

Ryan adjusts his snapback, determined. He is, after all, wearing his very finest basketball shorts, without even a single hole at the hem, and the knowledge puts an extra spring in his step.

“I’m gonna climb that dude like a tree,” he tells Curly.

My notes: Just really dumb, cute pining in a wonderful frat boy/nerd college AU!

Long boys

Muscles Better and Nerves More by beethechange— 26k, Explicit

Summary: “I’m serious,” Ryan says. “Don’t go fucking up my body. I want that shit back in the same condition I left it.”

“The same condition—Ryan. I’m not spending hours in a gym every day so you don’t lose muscle mass.”

“I want you to treat my body with the respect you would a national park. Leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but memories.”

***

A certain meddling Voodoo Queen of New Orleans thinks Ryan and Shane need some new perspective on life. After an inadvisable ritual deposits Ryan in Shane’s body, and Shane in Ryan’s, the ghoulboys pursue some soul-searching and self-discovery to put things right. Sometimes in a sexy way.

My notes: This is so sexy and in character! A freaky friday kinda scenario where they only switch back when they pull their figurative heads out of their asses. So wonderful.

Dreams to be daring for by allonsy_gabriel— 24k, General Audiences

Summary: On May 11, 2018, Eleanora Rose Austin was born in Chicago, Illinois.

On May 20, 2018, Shane Alexander Madej agreed to act as the godfather to his best friend from college's daughter.

On October 26, 2018, Olivia and Michael Austin were victims of a mugging gone sideways.

On October 29, 2018, Shane Madej found himself in the possession of one real, actual, human child.

My notes: Accidental Baby Acquisition is now my favourite trope because of this fic. The fact that they’re already acting like a couple with the baby before they actually become one is sooo beautiful,,, give it a read im begging you

Fifty Shades of Gold by beethechange— 21k, Explicit

Summary: Shane tires of doing the same bits over and over. He tires of telling the same stories until they all, him and Ryan and the fans, have every beat memorized. Whenever Ryan pulls out his Ricky Goldsworth impression, ah yes, that old chestnut, Shane plays along only begrudgingly. He’s bored.

That’s his official position: he’s over Ricky Goldsworth.

Shane’s unofficial position, regrettably, is that he’d rather be under Ricky Goldsworth.

My notes: Shane’s got the hots for Ricky Goldsworth and that’s the TEA. Lots of sexual tension and cute and unsure! Ryan!

Precious metals by StrikerEureka— 73k, Mature

Summary: Ryan and Shane have been moving around something that is coming to a head between them. After a car accident, on the way to an investigation, Ryan slowly starts to become suspicious that Shane might not be what he seems. He realizes, though, that he just might not care.

Shane sits forward suddenly. “Hey, pull over up here.”

Ryan follows the instruction without questioning it, which probably says something about either his willingness to listen to Shane or his sanity. Maybe both; they go hand in hand. He puts on his blinker, even though they haven’t seen another car in a couple of minutes, and pulls off onto the shoulder.

“Are you gonna puke or something?” he asks, putting the car into park, as Shane takes off his seatbelt with one hand and tugs off his Ray Bans with the other.

“You better hope not,” he murmurs as he leans over the center console and kisses Ryan solidly on the mouth.

My notes: My favourite Demon!Shane AU ever! Really sweet and loads of tension and pining... must-read.

darling it’s a faded notion by varnes— 28k, Explicit

Summary: The sun is too bright and Ryan’s whole body is alight with something that is eating him all the way up from the inside out, but he keeps his eyes open and he makes himself look, and he tells himself that once he finds Shane, he’ll think about it. Once he finds Shane, they’ll make a plan. Once he finds Shane, and only then, he’ll let himself have the thought he’s been swallowing down like bile since he came to: that they didn’t fall.

They were pushed.

OR: Ryan and Shane get cursed by a ghost, and now they can't be not-touching. It's ... not great.

My notes: They get cursed and have to be touching all the time!! and they’re pining so hard y’all like what more could one want

Bed-warm Hands and the Ghost of Elvis by MiraclesofPaul— 21k, Teen and Up

Summary: They get used to sharing a bed while filming the show. Ryan's just trying not to let his feelings get in the way.

So Ryan tells himself he’s going to ride out whatever it is they’ve fallen into, but he’ll bow out gracefully when the time comes. He can just enjoy the now.

My notes: They share a bed!!! And their hearts!! so much lack of communication, it’s wonderful

Hope that someone will enjoy these fics that I did so very much! If you want more buzzfeed unsolved fics let me know because i’ve read sooo much fanfiction...

—Iris