#my friend is binding powerless into a book for me

[urlocal-cryptid7]

Say what you want about the sanders sides fandom but god damn do they know how to write fanfiction

[annagaw]

You seek permission to use my artwork? Read on, friend!

My policy for using my artwork for book bindings is as follows:

I give permission for my work to be used ONLY for personal bindings and bindings intended as one-off gifts. I DO NOT give permission for my work to be reproduced in any way for profit. This includes, but is not limited to, bindings made for sale or other forms of distribution, even if the sale price only covers the binder’s material costs.

Basically, if any money is changing hands whatsoever, you do not  have my consent to use my work.

My policy for any public sharing of my artwork:

Please DO NOT post my work in other online spaces without my permission. Please DO NOT post my work separately on tumblr instead of reblogging. If you publicly share images of a personal bind that features my work, please DO tag/credit me in your post.

I won’t demand that every person who wishes to use my artwork for binding individually seek out my permission before doing so, but I’d really appreciate an acknowledgement in anything shared publicly. Partly because I just really want to see the beautiful things you make!

If anyone is unsure about whether their intended use falls within these parameters, my DMs are always open. :)

Closing Thoughts on Fan Works

Obviously, I am powerless to stop anyone taking my work and reproducing it without my consent. Such is the internet. I am sharing my fan art purely for the joy of participating in this community that I love. I am not here to in any way profit from that community, and I do not intend to ever hide myself behind a paywall or otherwise restrict access to my artwork. But online fan spaces, like all communities, require a degree of trust and mutual respect in order to survive.

We are so lucky to have spaces like tumblr and AO3, but we’ve already seen how a handful of bad-faith actors can undermine the integrity of these spaces, to the extent that authors and artists feel the need to withdraw entirely. By releasing our work into the world, creators are trusting that others will not take advantage of something they have given freely. So it’s hard not to feel a bit betrayed when people abuse that trust - and if that betrayal begins to erode the joy these interactions once held, then you start to wonder what it is you’re even doing here. What is the point in fandom if it’s no longer fun?

*anna has a mild existential crisis but it’s fine*

✨ Anyway, let’s keep fandom free and accessible for all! ✨

[fresiants]

thank u for answering my previous asks you're a darling <33

but once again angered. wtf do they mean with "someone had to bully blood supremacist snivellus" excuse me wasn't james bullying him just for existing?????? didn't sev become a death eater later on towards the end of his school days, so how do they justify the way his golden boys were treating him with something that only took place WAY later???? this whole argument seems like a foul excuse to absolve the marauders from the part they played into pushing severus farther into darkness. it's all "stop bullying" and "don't take slightly what bullying can do to a person" until it's severus, right??? they shunned him and made him feel so powerless, probably also teared his self-esteem to shreds over and over, got his only friend in the world against him. i? i don't care how much they must have changed or how "young" they were. if they can defend james and sirius' bullying by appealing to how young they were, the same away i can defend severus. he was too young when he made a bad decision and had solid terrible experiences that pushed him towards it. the system of the wizarding world, hogwarts, even dumbledore failed severus, and the golden boys worsened it all, so the whole justifying bullying here is disgusting.

Thank you <3

Unfortunately, from my observations, there are many people in the Marauders fandom who have not read any of the books. Their fandom grew very quickly due to certain fanfics like ATYD. I mean... I saw a teacher using ATYD as a class assignment/project once. I've also seen many people recommended this fic to non-HP readers, leading to a negative perspective toward Severus Snape's character. The fic literally described him as a snobbish, wealthy pureblood, which is the complete opposite of his character in the canon.

Those who have read the canon would recognize that being a "pureblood supremacist" is not a valid reason for bullying Severus. In fact, James had been bullying him since their first year, long before Severus showed any interest in the Dark Arts. Their animosity began when they met on the Hogwarts Express — only because Severus expressed an interest in joining his mother's house, Slytherin.

They have no problem tolerating James's bullying, but not Severus's, as they believed it was acceptable to bully someone of the same age, but not someone younger. However, they refused to acknowledge the severity of James's bullying compared to Severus's. Although Severus was often harsh towards his students, it is worth noting that he never resorted to physical violence against them. The only time he ever laid hand on a student was during SWM, and that was only because Harry had invaded his privacy by looking into his memories without his consent.

In contrast, James physically bullied Severus all of the time. Choking, body-bind, public humiliation.. not to mention he also sexually assaulted him in front of the whole school AFTER HE WAS ALMOST KILLED BY ONE OF HIS FRIENDS.

You see... I was surprised to see many people defending James's actions by insisting that he wasn't sexually assaulting Severus, but rather just bullying him. As if bullying is an acceptable and harmless behavior. However, what James did to Severus was undoubtedly a form of sexual assault, but it seems that some people refused to acknowledge it simply because Severus was a male. Apparently, exposing someone's genitals to the public is deemed acceptable, as long as the victim doesn't have a vagina.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Please, Come Back...

Summary: Kratos witnesses his daughter losing her best friend in battle and he tries his best to comfort her during this tough time in her life.

Disclaimer: This is a Kratos fic with Kat (me) as his daughter, so it’s incredibly self-indulgent. I’m mourning. Details at the end of the fic, if anyone actually reads this. 

“Katrina, be careful!” the once renowned Spartan General roared at his daughter as she lunged with her magically enhanced polearm at the gargantuan monster that just wouldn’t perish already. “I’m fine! Take care of Atreus, he’s the kid!” the red haired girl smirked cockily as she ravaged the monster with the help of her new-found Midgardian friend, Bianca, who was an incredibly intelligent girl, skilled in the healing arts and great with sorcery. She might have appeared the perfect bookworm, with pretty, chestnut hair and the kindest doe smile, whenever she was deeply entrapped by her books, she always grinned like a little girl whenever her friend Katrina mentioned going on an adventure with her, and her eyes would sparkle in excitement at the thought. Her vision wasn’t the best, but the spells didn’t require any of that. “Kat, to the left!” with perfect reflexes, the vixen dodged to the side, using her weapon to cut down one of the appendixes of the monster. Since they got together for every adventure, in the past 9 years, when Atreus was so small that he couldn’t even stand, and was barely able to say ‘mama’ - But Kat and Bianca went out with Kratos or Faye on numerous adventures. “Thanks! -- Duck down! I’ll block it!” in that instant, Kat jumped in front of the girl, impaling the polearm deep into the monster’s arm, and with her magic, she traced it all the way up to its shoulder, making it go berserk. “Perfect, Kat! I’ll go left, you go right - Let’s get this over with - I don’t like this realm.” Bianca chuckled, making her friend grin as she kept jumping backwards, making her laugh at her playfulness. “I’mma surf on my polearm and impale that thing’s head. Keep it busy a bit!” thus, Kat jumped on the handle bar of her weapon and guided it very high up in the air, avoiding the annoying swats of the monster’s tails and arms, and from a great height, plunged down on top of its head, expecting, just like with many other monsters, to get cut in two, from top to bottom. “Oh no.” she muttered to herself, realising the weapon was seemingly powerless against the beings armor. “KAT!” the young sorceress cried out her friend’s name, watching her get thrown to the ground roughly by a growling monster who seemed to laugh at them. “Gah... Stupid thing.” Kat muttered, rolling on the ground from being thrown. “I’ve got it!” in that instant, though, she jumped back to her feet, ignoring the burning ache of her muscles, just like her Spartan father taught her too, and she jumped back in the fight, throwing her weapon at the monster and controlling it, while using her nature magic, veins holding tightly onto the monster, keeping it from moving, only for it to break away from the bindings and throw the Spartan’s daughter to the ground again, the air knocked out of her lungs and ears ringing from the impact of her head colliding with the hard ground, and the distant screaming of her father’s gruff voice, mixed with the pitched ones of both Atreus and Bianca. “I’M FINE~!” she cried out in a light tone, hoping to alleviate their worries, and as soon as she jumped back up on her feet, twirling around to face the monster, her weapon at ready - She heard a small squeak and the sound of flesh being ruptured, followed by a gasp. 

Before her very eyes, the image of her best friend’s torso being cruelly impaled by one of that monster’s appendix, before she was thrown up in the sky and swatted down, breaking the ground where she stood like a rag doll. “BIANCA!” Kat cried out, sliding on her knees and cradling her broken body close to her chest. “Hang in there, babe, it’s okay - I’ve gotchu. I’ve gotchu, don’t worry, I can heal you. I can... I can--” though she kept rambling and using her healing magic on her, it was doing little to no good. “I-It’s okay... Kat. It’s okay. I can... See the light.” she coughed up some blood, smiling pitifully up at her friend. “Thank you... For being my dear friend. For taking me on every adventure with you. You... Really are my friend. Thank you... For everything.” with one last effort, her warm dark eyes like hot chocolate on a snowy winter night, gleaming with falling tears slowly lost all vitality, and the hand that once caressed Kat’s face now fell to the ground, lifelessly. “Bia-... Bianca... Bianca! BIANCA! GET UP! WAKE UP! ... FUCK -- WHAT THE FUCK, GET UP ALREADY! GET UP! I CAN HEAL YOU! FUUUUUCK, BIANCA, GET UP! YOU CAN’T...--- !!! You... You can’t... Leave me... We... We were supposed to... To go travel together... Remember? We were supposed to finish our healing training together... And... I was supposed to show you my homeland in Greece... And... We... We were supposed to travel the world... And have fun... And go on numerous adventures together... And... And... Fall in love... And... Be each other’s Maids of Honour... And...” Kat wept for the first time in years, since she lost her mother to an incurable illness, which had the girl beg her father to get the hell out of that cursed country... But it seemed to her that, no matter what, misfortune followed her everywhere. “Fuck. You’re... You’re... Really gone... Aren’t you...? You... Your heart... It’s not... Moving... You’re not breathing. Fuck.... Not you... Why you... It shouldn’t have been you... Of all people, not you... Damn it... Damn it all... DAMN IT ALL!” she was deaf to every sound around her, be that the taunting of the monster, or her family screaming for her to get up already. It was all silent for her. “You ugly fuck. Who do you think you are, taking my friend away from me...? Huh...? You think you can beat me? Ha. I’d like to see you try.” with a sneer, Kat recalled her weapon and imbuing it with more of her power - A power she only felt now, due to the extreme rage and grief she felt - A power that could rip apart the heavens with ease, and she threw it at the monster, creating a large hole in it’s torso. “I’ll rip you apart. I’ll make you suffer.” with her other hand, she wrapped numerous veins that bound the monster, yet this time, he couldn’t escape. Her power was too much for it too handle. “I hope you feel the pain I’m feeling... Tenfold. No - A thousand times what I’m feeling.” Katrina stepped in front of the monster and reached her hands inside the hole created my her weapon, and with a war cry, she ripped the monster apart, just like her father used to. “HOW DO YOU LIKE BEING DEAD, YOU PIECE OF SHIT?! HAAA?! GO ON, TRY TO HEAL! YOU CAN’T, CAN YOU? YOU WORTHLESS SCUM!” the rage was clouding her mind so, that she kept using her weapon to desecrate the monster’s body further and further, until suddenly, she felt herself being pried apart, a pair of strong arms holding her tightly.

“KATRINA, STOP!” her father tried to calm her down - He knew very well the pain she was going through, but not only was she far more sensitive than he was, but the pain was fresh. “That thing is dead. Stop now, child. There is nothing more you can do.” he tried to reason, but he knew, when she was like this, only holding her until she exhausted herself worked. It was the same when her mother died, and she almost went berserk, destroying the whole city out of anger. He hated seeing her in such a state, reminding him of his own grief, but at the moment, he needed to help her... Somehow. “NO! I WON’T STOP! I HAVE TO KILL THAT THING! LOOK WHAT HE DID TO HER! LOOK WHAT HE DID TO BIANCA! THAT FUCKING MONSTER KILLED HER! HE TOOK HER AWAY FROM ME, DAMN IT! THAT WAS MY FRIEND! MINE! SHE WAS MY SISTER!” she cried out, struggling desperately to whirm her way out of his arms, but he was used to it by now. She couldn’t escape and potentially do something she’d regret. “Kat. She’s gone. And so is that monster. There is nothing more you can do now. She was a human... Even with your powers, you cannot heal a wound once the person is no more. You know that, and so did she.” the more he spoke, his voice soft and gentle as Atreus had never heard his father speak before, the less power Katrina felt to fight. “Kat. Child. Look at me. Hey - Look at me.” as soon as the young one managed to open her eyes and she met her father’s ones - His eyes, that matched hers almost to a perfect shade... She stopped struggling, and her bottom lip, previously bitten to the point of drawing blood, was now quivering helplessly, and a myriad of tears were streaming down her cheeks. “Daddy...?” she sniffed pitifully. Her agony was so raw, that her father’s heart broke. “Daddy... She is... She is...” the man let out a solemn gruff, acknowledging the truth, without actually saying it out loud. “Gone.” she let out that word, breathlessly.  Kratos immediately pulled her to his chest, his chin on top of her head as he held her tightly. He hoped desperately that, after the incident with Lysandra and Calliope, none of his dear ones will have to suffer again... But Kat’s mother died, and in turn, Kat developed something akin to a split personality that resembled his own, back when he was bent on annihilating the Greek Pantheon. After her mother’s death, Kat closed off her heart for everyone, including her own self, and though almost a hundred years passed since that time, he had only seen the girl allow herself to grieve once. If she were a Spartan warrior, she would have been unbeatable, just like him... 

But that was not what he wished his children to become. Unfortunately, his Norse family fared no better, and his third wife died, whilst his young boy blamed him. He tended to agree with his girl when she said that she felt cursed with misfortunate, and though he hated the word ‘fate’, he was skeptical now.

With the girl sobbing rivers in her father’s arms, uncontrollably, Atreus could only stay away - He was always jealous of the older girl for being Kratos’s favourite child... But the more he finds out about her and her pain, the more he forgot about that jealousy. “Let it out, child. It’s alright. Let it all out.” the man encouraged his little girl to accept the emotions she felt and express them as much as she needed. She needed to be allowed to mourn, otherwise, she’d go full self-destruction mode.

“Daddy... Daddy... I want her back... Please... Bring her back... Bring my sister back to me...! I already miss her... I... I want her back, Daddy!” she sounded now just as when she was a little child and she first lost her beloved pet fox... But the more loss she experienced, the worse she regressed in her path of achieving some kind of mental stability, so she wouldn’t snap from the littlest thing. The kind and sweet Bianca was exactly that balance she needed to become just like any regular young girl - Filled with home, dreams, aspirations and adventurous ideas. Hearing her call him ‘Daddy’, something she only did when she was truly hurting, made Kratos only sigh and kiss the top of her head. “Nothing can bring back the dead, child. It is a harsh reality that we must face. Bianca was a good child... It is my deepest regret that I allowed her to perish. I could not save the two of you... Forgive me, Kat. Forgive me.” he muttered in her ear, only for her to ever hear his apologising - Ever, in this world. “Let us bring her back home.” as soon as he felt her nod her head, he helped her get up, only to see her ripping herself away from his arms, slowly stepping towards the dead body of her friend. As she got in front of her, she knelt to the ground and picked her up bridal style. “Yeah... Let’s go home... Sister.” as she turned towards her family, through the curtain of hair covering her face, they could see the tears still streaming down her face, as she walked her friend on her last journey they would ever have together. “Remember this? You used to really like how pretty the light of Alfheim was. And though you thought it dangerous, Vanaheim was so green and had many beautiful plants. And Svartalheim had such pretty scenery and waters... But... In the end... Midgard will always be the best realm... Right, Bianca?” she kept talking to her friend as if she was alive, and Atreus couldn’t help but frown and look helplessly at his father... Who only patted his shoulder and shook his head. There was nothing you could do in such a situation.

When they got back at her home, she sat down with her friend still in her arms, holding her tightly, as her father and brother made a pyre, so they could incinerate her body. Once done, she sat her on it and conjured a lot of flowers to sit all over her. She looked... Peaceful. And happy. “I’m so sorry I let you die... I should have fought harder to protect you... I’m sorry... I hope you will find it in your heart to ever forgive me... I miss you, sister... I need you to smile for me one more time... To laugh... To give me your kind words and wisdom... I want us to dream together again, and go exploring... But... I guess... That will remain for my dreams alone... I... I’m sorry... I failed you.” taking the torch in her trembling hand, she burnt the pyre, just as she had done for her mother. “Please come back... Please...” though she could only watch away as her body was engulfed in flames, and she fell back on the ground, helpless and weeping.

“Hey... Kat? I know it hurts... But it will get better. You have us... And Mimir and Sindri and Brok too. And all our animals! And... Of course... Let’s not forget Tyr. Tyr cares for you dearly, y’know? I’m sure he’s worried for you now. Why don’t we go back to them?” Atreus acted for the first time, putting his arms around his sister and raising her up, guiding her towards the portal door to the dwarves’ home... But she pushed him away, shaking her head and hugging herself. “I... Need to be alone today. I’m sorry. I... I’ll get better. Maybe not today... Or tomorrow... Or the day after... But soon... I will. Until then...” Kat looked up, and felt a small smile appearing on her face, as a soft snowflake fell on her nose. “Let us meet again... Sister.”

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

One of my dearest friends, whom I’ve known for almost 9 years, sadly passed away... And I can’t get over the pain, shock and absolute horror.  The whole day, I’ve tried texting and calling her... I tried texting her friends... I was praying that her sister was making the most cruel, bad prank, and a few hours later, my friend would call and laugh at me, saying it was just a joke...

But sadly, it is not.

One of the sweetest and kindest souls I’ve ever met, so smart, so pure, so beautiful... Didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, didn’t do crazy things... Mostly went home to study for her Uni exams, rather than going out for any hangout or party...

She wanted to be a surgeon, y’know. Next year, she would have achieved her goals. After so many years of studying, of hard work, or compromises and sacrifices... After so long... 

And her dreams were taken away from her. How? Though the autopsy will reveal the truth later... She started feeling bad due to a treatment she was given by the doctor... Stopped going to Uni on Thursday... Yesterday night, her sister found her dead, in her apartment... Choked on her own vomit during the night.

Life... Fate... Whatever it is... It’s just a cruel fucking joke. Fuck it.

Her funeral is on Wednesday. I can’t believe I’m supposed to go to the funeral of one of my greatest friends. Though we didn’t speak every day, we didn’t need to... We were just... That. Friends.

I can’t bring her back to life... No matter how much I want that... I really want her back... But the only way I can honour her, and also, selfishly pour my overflowing emotions into something, is to write something and... Be strong and carry on.

I just... Wish... Our last words... Weren’t... Wishing her... Good luck to her exams, damn it...  I just wish I wasn’t powerless... And I could bring her back... Spend more time together... See each other more... And not say... “Maybe next time”.... Because there is no next time... For us.

Please.... Please... Come back, my friend... I miss you so much already....

Nothing that I write will bring her back, nor will my pain subside just from this... But this piece was written while sobbing... It was written with raw emotions alone. So, forgive me if you feel it mediocre at best... 

It’s the only thing I have.

I love you, my Sister, Bianca... You will be forever missed.

[cup-and-chaucer]

Deathless Is Not a Love Story: A Rant

Everyday I wake up and some subsection of Goodreads has declared war on me, specifically. I finished this book this afternoon and immediately went on a long walk to process it and digest it. I sat in my car by the lake and checked Goodreads and felt my soul flee from my body, flee from the burden of being right on the Internet, flee from the bad faith takes, the misinterpretations, and, most of all, the assertion that a book that begins with a literal bird marrying a girl is historical fiction.

I’m not in a place where I can say whether or not I liked Deathless. I think it’s flawed certainly but it’s not flawed in the way people say it is flawed and that bothers me. *clenches fist* so much. I think the easiest way to organize my thoughts is to take the common thread in the reviews and break them down as I see them:

1. Koschei and Masha’s Relationship is the Best/Worst Love Story Ever Told

This is the major response to this book. Babes, I don’t think it was a love story at all. Koschei and Marya get married, this is true. Marriage is not a love story. Besides marriage in this book happens between any number of people, objects, and creatures. For all that marriage is discussed, there are almost no weddings. The sheer number of situations described as marriage, for me, diluted what we mean as marriage. Many are not monogamous, or based on courtship, or lasting. They are what marriage often is: a partnership or a commitment made formal. In our world, people are married to people, to ideals, to jobs and this book takes that use of the word and makes it literal.

This book, more than anything, uses fairytale tropes and language to examine the development and disappearance of cultural narratives. It adheres to the rule of threes, includes magical helpers, and transformation to do this. It is strange, then, that Koschei and Marya, and frankly, Marya and Ivan, do not share many traditional romantic moments or moments that build or deepen their characters beyond the roles in the narrative that they are destined to play. Instead of beauty (though it’s mentioned), or charm, or bravery, power is what binds each point of the love triangle together. Who has power? Who doesn’t?

The characters talk of love but with their “love interests”, more often than not they talk about desire or wanting or submission. Marya loves her friends, Marya desires Koschei. Marya loves her home, Marya desires Ivan. I heard Marta’s relationship to Ivan described as instalove…but it’s not, not really, it’s acknowledging explicitly that the plot has to move forward, regardless of Marya’s devotion to Koschei. But again, fundamentally, Marya goes with Ivan to pursue dominance.

Koschei grooms and abducts Marya. Marya forces Ivan to submit. Marya chains Koschei. All these power dynamics shift and change throughout the story, rarely finding balance.

The network of relationships in Deathless is symbolic; the commitment that each character demonstrates to any other character is symbolic; any marriage that takes place is symbolic. Each element of what each character represents changes in each relationship. Koschei is life, he is wealth, he is Tsarist Russia, he is devilry. Ivan is life, too, he is poverty, he is Communism, he is humanity. Marya is the Every Man caught between these choices. Marya doesn’t leave Koschei for lack of love but to commit to a new thematic element because they are all, ultimately, powerless against the narrative.

What this did for me was create a huge sense of how meta this book was: it’s a story about stories, a narrative about being trapped inside a narrative, a legend about the destruction of legend. It also highlighted how political identities, politicized power can be mapped in our most intimate relationships. I think the radfem ideas of sex are stupid and the kink shaming I saw in response to this book was gross, but, as a storytelling device I thought the use of sexual dynamics and BDSM-style power exchanges were effective in communicating the tensions between each character and what they symbolizes and the heavy sexual charge inherent to nearly all the relationships made the point that all these choices—who do you support, who holds power—very intimate.

I guess this is the place to talk about the kink shaming in response to this book because it really bothered me. I want to get to a place in this world where sexual fluidity and sexual expression can be used without it being criticized for being disgusting or salacious or gratuitous. Sometimes it is those things! Sometimes the way things are portrayed are inaccurate or wrong! But, there is something within me, as a bisexual person, that feels extremely protective of any sort of sexual fluidity, including kink. And here, having power dynamics explored—maybe not in a healthy way for real life but in a narratively legitimate way—felt important to me. The fact that Koschei spanking her over a table is maybe arousing or maybe is a cold shower to someone is irrelevant to whether it makes sense. And I thought it made sense.

2. Everything is Black and White.

I mean…kind of the point?! I mean give the author an iota of credit. Seriously, though, the whole point is the duality, the places where the binary crosses.

Viy and Koschei.

Koschei and Ivan.

Communism and Monarchy.

Death and Life.

Dominant and Submissive.

Marya is the one who goes back and forth, bisexually fluid, chasing freedom. For Marya, freedom and agency comes in submission, it comes in dominance, it comes in home, it comes in leaving. As the definition of what her agency looks like changes, so does her story.

This is also why the Yaichka sequence is important. It is the only time in the book when all the elects come into balance. There is sharing and community support with the inclusion of personal property and identity. This is the only time when Marya and Koschei’s relationship looks like a marriage or reads like a love story. The rural idyll is due to the ceasing of narrative warfare and the balance of political systems means that all can live in harmony and not incentivize the violent tendencies of a Stalin or resist the evils of a Rasputin. It is a world left unpoisoned and it is where Koschei and Marya can exist outside the entrapments of the narrative system.

3. It’s not Historically Accurate

These types of comments make me feel like I am being divinely punished for getting a degree in History. A man turns into a bird, there’s a dragon, like I just—I swear to God, this is the source of 50% of my migraines. This is lumped in with people saying that the various creatures that Marya encounters along the way wouldn’t have spouted Communist slogans…which is a take that I don’t think fully appreciates the drama and abruptness of the Communists’ rise to power in the 1910s.

I do think it is fair to consider the way CV uses history in this book, especially as an American writing about Russia. I think an argument could be made that using the siege of Leningrad as a backdrop for your experimental fiction is maybe not in good taste? It depends on the quality of the work and I think there is room to debate if CV was successful enough in the the power of her book to justify the usage of a genocide as the stage for her fairytale even if that fairytale is a political one. Frankly, it all feels trite in light of the war against Ukraine.

Overall, I thought that the blending of Soviet history and symbolism within a mythological context worked really well but, during the description of siege itself, I had that pricking at the back of neck that I feel whenever people talk about the animated film Anastasia: Historical tragedy is not your playground. There is something that makes me profoundly uncomfortable at the notion that the deadliest siege in world history was the result of the Tsar of Life willfully staying in a basement at the eroticized behest of his wife.

I’m still working out what I think about this section and the way it made me feel. It’s hard because Leningrad was a German offensive; Russia was undoubtedly a victim and not because of Communism. It takes the discussion of power beyond Russia’s borders. This is where CV’s metaphors become too unwieldy to really carry through, I think, and when the book overextends its purpose. It is at its most successful when confined to talking about the dramatic shift from monarchy to communism and the inherent inequalities and cruelties in both governments…blowing it up to the complexity of all the different varieties of totalitarianism in all the different European states confused it a little.

Additionally, the Tsar of Death triumphing in the end—I guess, this is another thing I am working out in my mind. I suppose this is because as the timeline moves into the latter half of the 20th Century, into the nuclear age and age of genocide, into the cementing of a Stalinist Russia as a world power that this is true. I suppose I struggle to think of an alternative? The war between death and life seems doomed when framed within the context of WWII…if the alternative is a Third Reich that stretched the length of continental Europe. Unless, she’s talking about the death of traditional Russian culture?! I need to muse on this more.

Whatever it is, I think this plays into a larger discussion about how Americans write and conceptualize Russia and Russian history and culture.

4. The language the writing the prose as purple as a violet on a mountainside

Yeah, I mean, I get it. The language is going to be to your taste or not to your taste. I wish people would think about why authors write the way they do. The artificiality of the language sets this up as a fairytale, as a structure. The over abundance of metaphors implies that nothing is as it seems, that things look different at different angles. And I—I don’t think she’s showing off? Maybe that’s being too kind but choosing a writing style so specific is a thoughtful decision and a commitment. In really good books, form follows function and that’s what keeps a bold style choice like this from being a gimmick.

I think that’s it for now! I really enjoyed it and it certainly was the weirdness that I crave at this time of year!!!

[wygolvillage]

watched the craft (1996) so heres my review

short version:

this is exactly what its like when girls have sleepovers. this is like if mean girls was edgier (keep in mind ive never watched the ending of mean girls because a teacher put it on on the last day of school and we never finished the movie before we had to leave but im gonna assume it ended with everyone trying to kill each other). i really really really enjoyed it up until the ending which just totally fell flat

longer review:

a pretty decent "get power, go out of control with power, face consequences" story about a #Girlboss friend group who end up murdering people with witch powers and have a dramatic falling out with the main character after they kill her asshole crush. has some really cool lighting and shots and editing, its a visual treat, and it was good at endearing you to their friendship... before everything goes down in flames, of course. and it reminded me of that one time when i was 12 i picked up a witch book and got really disappointed that it was all stuff like "tie a red string around the name of the person you hate and say "i hate you" 5 times and bury it under your favorite tree and vague misfortune shall befall them" like, i assumed cursing people would be more interesting lol.

one thing i did think was weird was that bonnie and rochelle were counted as "assholes going mad with power" almost as much as nancy was, narratively, when the stuff they did was really tame honestly... rochelle especially. making a racist bully's hair fall out is, like, nothing LOL so i dont see the reason to portray her as "going too far, omg, be wary of consequences 😱😱😱". like yeah "do unto others what you want done unto you" but the racist bully is the one who is "doing unto others" in the first place... talk shit get hit (or cursed)... and bonnie only used the magic on herself anyway like. idk. they hate to see girlbosses winning. and like i said the ending did not work for me at all. the final battle itself was really enjoyable and i liked that it ended with sarah binding nancy's powers... and then it cuts to nancy being locked up in an asylum. like, her whole thing is that she's in search of power and wields it destructively against others, so i feel like making her "powerless" would be punishment enough honestly. the asylum ending is totally unnecessary imo!

the acting was really great though! nancy especially was really enjoyable to watch, whenever the actress did that Weird Thing With Her Teeth it was awesome. really fun performances all around. also liked the soundtrack.

overall id give it a.... 7/10? worth a watch but the ending kind of dropped the ball for me

[superpowerprayer]

She Mocks God on Live TV Then THIS Happens...

174,026 views  Jan 8, 2024

Worldwide Revival. Please Pray For. Dedicate and Rededicate your life to the Lord Jesus Christ.

FATHER I BELIEVE THAT YOU SENT YOUR SON JESUS CHRIST TO DIE ON THE CROSS FOR MY SINS. I BELIEVE THAT HE DIED, AND WAS RESURRECTED, AND IS COMING BACK TO JUDGE THE LIVING AND THE DEAD. FATHER, I REPENT.FORGIVE ME OF ALL MY SINS. COME INTO MY HEART AND MAKE ME YOUR CHILD. IN THE NAME OF YOUR SON JESUS CHRIST. Thank you for saving my soul. AMEN

Neville Johnon / The Academy of Light  / Prophecy https://www.youtube.com/playlist...

Sadhu Sundar Selvaraj / Prophecy / Angel TV     https://www.youtube.com/playlist...

Dr Bruce Allen / School of Translation / Prophecy https://www.youtube.com/playlist...

Steven Francis / Jesus My King Church / End Times Remnant https://www.youtube.com/playlist...

Prophet Michael Van Vlymen / School of Translation https://www.youtube.com/playlist...

Trey Smith / Bible History / Prophecy Movies https://www.youtube.com/playlist...

War Room Prayers / Take Control of Your Life https://youtube.com/playlist...

Speaking in Unknown Tongues  / What does it Do? //  Sadhu Sundar Selvaraj   https://www.youtube.com/playlist...

Worship Worship Worship Praise Music / Shekinah Worship Center https://www.youtube.com/playlist...

Worldwide Revival. Please Pray For

Heavenly Father in the Mighty name of Jesus Christ Destroy  every Demonic plot against  Me, My Family, My Church, My  City, and My Country. In Jesus name In Jesus name In Jesus name Satan, Lucifer, Every Demon, All Witch Craft, Sorcery, Every Principality, All Spiritual wickedness in High places, Prince of the Power of the air, Dominions, every Unclean Spirit, every Infirmity, Chief Prince, all Generals, all Captains, all Centurions, every Watchmen, Principalities and every other Devil. I rebuke you in Jesus name. I cast you out in Jesus name. I cast you Down in Jesus name. I Bind, Cage, Chain, Mute, Muzzle, Gag,  Cut you All Off, Destroy, Strip and Ruin You All. I Nullify All of Your Actions forever and ever In Jesus Christ name. I take back all of the permission that I have given you in the past to operate in me and through me. I take my Authority back right now by the Blood of Jesus Christ and as a Son or Daughter of The Most High God. I render you all Powerless in my life from now on in the Mighty name of Jesus Christ. The Holy Bible States in Phillipians 2:10-11 " That at The Name of Jesus Every knee shall bow of Things in Heaven and Things on Earth and things Under the Earth And Every Tongue Shall Confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. To the Glory of God The Father.” I now command you All to Bow Down on your knees and confess with your mouths that Jesus Christ is Lord. Father God Destroy, Strip, Ruin, Confuse and Cast Down the demonic kingdom in Jesus name. Most High God,  His number is 644, Jesus, Emmanuel, Holy Spirit, Almighty God, Father and His Power Aleeth. Please Forgive Me of Every Sin that I have ever Committed and Thank You for dying on The Cross for Me. I Give You All of the Praise Honor and Glory forever. Lord Thank you for hearing and honoring my prayer and setting me free. Please Lead me and guide me from now on. Amen

My Two Sons Died on the Same Day  Then This Happened //  Timothy J Douglass Sr https://www.youtube.com/playlist...

Be My Friend On Face Book / Super Power Prayer / Timothy J Douglass Sr / End Times Prophecy / Prayer / Worship https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100010641464829

Psalms 91 / Prayers for Protection https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fOZKQz7rnHg...

Pornography  / How does It Affect People? https://www.youtube.com/playlist...

The Two Witnesses  / Who are They? When will They Come? https://www.youtube.com/playlist...

The Deep State  / What is It. What Does It Do? https://www.youtube.com/playlist...

The New World Order / When will it Be here? What Is It? https://www.youtube.com/playlist...

The Rapture / When will It Happen? What Is It? https://www.youtube.com/playlist...

https://youtu.be/cuDT4-hsseg

[gilbirda]

Never judge a book by its cover (JLxDP crossover)

They had a problem. A big problem. A madman had bonded with an eldritch god from space, it went wrong, and now there was a possessed human rampaging, eating everything it crosses. Constantine and Zatanna had an idea - they found a book about a Ghost King, a being from another dimension so powerful and so dangerous that they only suggested this summoning as a last resort.

What they got was a underfed and sleep deprived kid that knows about: - possession - eldritch gods - space

Can be read on its own.

EDIT: forgot to mention here my lovely beta @avaritia-apotheosis​

From my series, You and me and our best friend makes three

Sequel>>

[Read on AO3][Read on FF.net]

CW:non-graphic violence scenes, implied cannibalism

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Superman side-eyed Constantine as the warlock finished painting the summoning runes using a combination of his blood and pig’s blood. Something about making sure he summoned the correct dimension’s subject.

“Yeah, yeah. Absolutely positive, mate.” The blond said around the cigarette in his mouth, his eyes checking back to the picture on his phone, making sure the symbols were correct.

“So this… spectre will help, yes?”

“For fucks sake, I don’t know!” he stopped drawing the symbols and turned to look at the man of steel, annoyed. Once upon a time, Constantine had been intimidated by the hulkling figure of the Kryptonian, but not anymore since he learned how much of a baby he was about some things. (Like, for example, summoning potentially dangerous creatures from another dimension.) “This is my first time doing this summoning circle  and I don’t want to mess it up, so could you please just-”

“Calm down, John,” Batman stepped in. “I know you are nervous but we trust in your abilities and your knowledge.”

John knew it was a white lie but let it pass. He took a deep breath and tried to stop his trembling hands. He didn’t like feeling so powerless. 

“Bollocks,” he fisted his hands and went for the phone, rechecking every symbol of the complicated circle he was trying to make. 

He didn’t like doing things he hadn’t tried and tested before - in his experience, being ignorant of the nuances of a ritual resulted in dire consequences. He didn’t have to look too far in his past to prove it.

But… So many people had died already and they were desperate. He had already been searching for a solution when the Justice League, with their flashy capes and their deeply rooted pride, came to him and other magic users for solutions. 

The best he could find was this High King of the Ghosts. The title sounded ominous, but the ancient book he found talked about a connection with ancient creatures from ‘beyond’ and described abilities like those of the thing that had been rampaging without control through their part of the world.

It came out of nowhere, really. One day, someone suddenly appeared, declaring they were the host of a powerful eldritch god and that now they had to bow down to him. The person was human, or at least originally human; but after days his appearance morphed into a creature made of shadows and many, many eyes…

Constantine shuddered. 

The worst part? Nothing worked. Brute force, Superman’s heat rays, guns. Nothing Green Lantern made could even make a dent in the monstrous creature. Magic seemed to do a bit more damage, but the weird hybrid of human and eldritch monster regenerated faster than they could throw spells at him. Magical traps didn’t work either. Nothing. Not even John’s most powerful spell bind could stop it.

Cue their desperate measures. Desperate times, am I right? That’s what he thought when he considered this particular summoning. It had a warning note made more recently, maybe another magician that crossed paths with the book, strongly advising against summoning this King of the Ghosts. It said that the creature was more powerful than any earthly magic and that it couldn’t be contained - but it also said that the King could be reasoned with. It gave hope to the League. Maybe they could break some kind of deal with this dangerous being.

“And… done!” John sighed, rechecked all the symbols, and put his phone back to his pocket.

“Now what?” Diana approached them from the other side of the room, not really trusting this decision, but unable to leave her teammates alone with such a threat.

“Now,” Constantine kneeled in front of the circle and put his hands, both palms cut, downwards and touching the paint, “let me do the chant in one go.”

The warlock closed his eyes and ignored the dozen of members of the League watching him from a distance. He knew the words. He didn’t know what they meant, but he knew them. He just hoped he didn’t butcher the pronunciation too much and fail at the summoning.

But it was his first attempt, goddammit!

Fortunately, halfway through the chanting the circle changed colors - from blood red to toxic green, the glow illuminating the inside of the abandoned and secluded warehouse, far from civilization, they had chosen to do the ritual. Just in case. 

As he said the last word, Constantine felt the air get sucked out of his lungs, as if the last word was fed right into the circle, nurturing it, physically closing the circle. John fell back and crawled away from the circle as it transformed, glowing greener and greener, a vortex manifesting inside the symbols.

The vortex started spinning faster and faster, the noise of the currents drowning everyone’s thoughts, putting bizarre images of a far away place with impossible physics and green skies in their minds. It also brought a cold sensation, like darkness becoming tangible, like a night without stars closing on them. Whatever was coming was strong, and powerful.

The circle of pyrotechnics shone brighter for a moment and then stopped, the vortex lazily flowing, the streaks of green dull and darkened. The following silence rang in Constantine’s ears. Had he failed?

“What-” Green Arrow started,  when the symbols started glowing softly. 

A figure started coming through the vortex of green, the ‘waters’ becoming toxic green again as it touched his body. It was mesmerizing.

Or it would be, if what came through the summoning circle wasn't… a kid. A white-haired, bluish-gray skinned, tired looking kid, but a kid nonetheless. He was wearing some kind of suit in black and white, with a stylized letter symbol in his chest and a utility belt around his waist.

The kid was half crouched, legs apart and hands ready into fists, as if he was expecting a fight.

“Who are you and what have you done to me?”

Constantine glanced at Batman, searching for help. This was not what he expected.

The Dark Knight stepped forward and John sneakily crawled as far  away as he could.

“Who are you?” 

“I asked first.” The kid was brave, John had to concede. 

Batman was silent for a second, probably fuming at the disrespect. “We are the Justice League, protectors of this planet.”

“Oh… yeah!” the kid relaxed his stance, recognition shining in his eyes. “You are Batman, right? Tucker is, like, obsessed with superheroes and-”

“Kid, focus.” Batman growled. “Who are you?”

“I’m… wait, but you guys called me with this…” he smudged a symbol with his foot. “Oops, I touched it, sorry. Anyway!” he nervously continued when Batman made a move to get closer. “I’m Danny Phantom?”

“Is that an answer or a question?”

“Answer! That’s my name,” the kid smiled nervously. “Look, there must be a mistake. Who were you trying to summon? I can go back and leave a message for you.” A muscle in his brow twitched, and for a moment John could see how exhausted the kid was.

“We were trying to summon the Ghost King.”

“Actually,” Constantine cleared his throat, jumping to his feet and dusting his coat. He walked up to the kid. If he was a dangerous creature from another dimension, he would have done something already. He chuckled. “It’s called the ‘High King of the Ghosts’, but obviously there must have been some kind of mistake.”

But the kid wasn’t laughing. In fact, he became paler.

“Why?” Danny, as he had introduced himself, became more serious. 

“We need his help.”

“With?”

“Bloody hell, kid, we are losing precious time! Tell the King we need his help with some monster-”

“Monster?” he crossed his arms, guarded. “What kind of monster?”

“I don’t know! Someone’s possessed by some creature! Eldritch, maybe from space! But why do you even care?” 

“What have you tried? Did it say it was a ghost? Is that why you summoned me? To destroy a fellow ghost?” something in his tone was dangerous, and Diana, Batman and Superman tensed. Green Arrow moved one hand carefully towards his quiver. 

“This… creature… is killing people, son,” Danny bristled at the naming, but didn’t do anything. Superman continued, trying to control the worry and urgency in his voice. “It is really important we stop it and if it can be done peacefully, better. That’s why we need the Ghost King.”

Danny seemed to think about it for a moment, looking down at his feet. Batman gave Constantine worried looks, silently asking if he could do something about the situation. John shrugged.

“Okay. I’ll help you.”

“Will you contact the Ghost King?” Superman seemed hopeful.

“No need!” the kid laughed, making a dismissive motion with his hand. “You are already talking with him.”

Before they could ask their questions, the kid was engulfed in toxic green flames, maybe greek fire, and in his place stood another different person. Don’t be confused - it was the same white haired and tired kid; but his stance was wider, shoulders back, head up; and over the superhero costume he now wore some kind of otherworldly armor, with black plating and spiky shoulder pieces, a simple white cape clasped over his chest with two tiny skull charms. 

But the most distracting thing was the flaming crown floating over his head, made of the same black metal as the rest of his armor.

Danny smirked, crossing his arms again, as he watched the Justice League lose their shit in front of a kid.

“Well, this was unexpected.”

The kid turned towards Constantine and chuckled low, his voice layered and echoey, adding to the scary picture he presented.

“I’m a man of many surprises.”

“But you are just a kid,” Diana’s voice was soft. One of her hands rested over her mouth, shocked and worried. 

“But I’m a kid that knows a lot about space,” he uncrossed his arms and lifted a hand, counting with his fingers, “about eldritch creatures, and about possession. I can help you and you know it.”

There was a brief silence no one wanted to break. The kid looked nervously at each of their faces, suddenly losing all the bravado he showed before.

“This is a nice summoning circle, by the way. Who did it?”

Constantine lifted a hand.

“Where did you get the information? I thought all the knowledge about summoning ghosts had been lost to time.”

“A- A book. I found a book,” John blinked, walking around the circle to get said book, showing it to the kid. 

“Where did you get this?” Danny’s voice was angry, one hand reaching for the book, as if he recognized it. The symbols in the circle glowed and the Ghost King jumped back. “A binding spell? In my summoning circle?” 

“It was a necessity, the book explained that the king was dangerous-”

“This pitiful attempt cannot bind me,” his eyes glowed even greener and the circle went up into flames, the paint consumed rapidly in the green fire, erasing the circle and the bindings to ash.

Constantine brushed a bit of the ash with a foot, unable to keep the kid from snatching the book from his hands.

“This shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have this,” Danny's voice turned angrier and angrier as he flipped the pages, checking the contents. “How did you get this?”

“Found it in an auction!” John made a placating gesture with his hands. “I swear I didn’t steal it!” Danny seemed to believe him and calmed down, his eyes going back to read the contents, stopping at the bookmarked page on the summoning spell. John cleared his throat to call his attention. “What… what is it?”

“What is what?” The kid kept his eyes glued to the text.

“The book. I couldn't… I mean, there is some magic on it and I can kind of understand it, but most of it is written in a language I have never seen before.”

“Huh? You understand this?”

“Some parts of it,” the kid barely looked up at him. “What is-”

“A diary,” Danny answered, closing the book. “It’s one of the lost tomes of previous Kings’ diaries. And it’s written in a language not from this universe so kudos to you for understanding it enough to summon me.” He made a gesture towards the ruined circle.

“Thanks?”

“Definitely better than the last ritual I was in.”

“Have you been summoned before?” John was curious. If this was a unique tome, then how could someone else have summoned him?

“No,” shadows passed through the kid’s glowing green eyes. “It was an exorcism. And you are way better at executing it than my parents. Their pronunciation sucked,” he struck his tongue at the memory, but it felt like an act.

His parents tried to exorcize him…?

Constantine looked back at Batman, who seemed to be frozen in place. Everyone seemed to be after the last declaration. How could they not? The kid couldn’t be older than maybe fifteen or sixteen, and to be the freaking Ghost King and on top of that, be exorcised by his parents?

From behind them, Superman cleared his throat.

“Mr. Phantom, if you could please-”

“Phantom is okay,” the kid smiled, walking out of the ash circle to approach the Super. “If I can call you Superman?”

“Of course,” the kryptonian smiled back, trying to shake the shock and go back to his usual hero persona. “Phantom,” the kid’s smile brightened, “if you follow us we can discuss further the details of this creature?”

“Ah, yeah, sure!” the book in his hand went up in flames, making the closest to him jump in surprise. “Sorry, but you can’t keep the book, Mr….?”

“Constantine, John Constantine,” the warlock blinked, stunned in place. There goes his precious acquisition. Zatanna was going to be so angry...

***

After guiding the kid towards the temporary headquarters (there was no time and it wasn’t safe to go to the Watchtower) and doing rounds of introductions, Danny was told all the details of the problem, what they have tried, what they have not done in fear of killing the human part of the hybrid…

Danny was shaking his head. “There’s no use. The human’s gone once they’ve reached this level of transformation. If you kill the creature you have to kill the human.”

“Are you sure?” Batman asked, unhappy at the news.

“Yeah. I barely survived-” he stopped himself mid-sentence, as if he was going to say something he shouldn’t. He coughed, maybe trying to hide the mishap. “The thing is, are you ready to kill this human?”

Diana glanced at Batman, knowing the man wanted to pursue this new line of knowledge. She jumped in. “Yes. It’s not something we will be happy about, but if you are sure of this then the cost will be higher if we don’t act now.”

“Maybe if you showed me a recent photo?”

Batman snapped into attention, already opening a panel in his forearm guards and revealing a tiny projector. The image was then projected on the side of the tent they set up. A video showing an attack from that same morning, the camera barely able to capture the many eyes and shadows dancing, the disfigured face of a human in the center of even more mouths, black teeth and poisonous tongues peeking from them.

“Yeah, the dude’s dead.” Phantom leaned back on his chair. He had made his armor disappear in more green flames and now he was only in the suit. He crossed his arms, thinking. “But the good news is I can take care of this.”

Superman took a deep breath. “Are you sure?”

“I need to get closer, but yeah, I think I can.”

Some sighed in relief.

“You think?” Batman wasn’t convinced. Danny stood his glare. “There are no second chances, kid. We’ve seen this thing eat away people in milliseconds.”

“I know I can. And I’m not ‘people’. Have a little faith, dude.”

Green Arrow blinked at the interaction, disguising a chuckle with a cough. Flash would have loved this, but he was on rescue and evacuation duty.

Diana leaned in, interrupting whatever Batman was going to say to the kid. “Do you need anything? Any help? Any weapon?”

“No, not really,” then he had a realization and leaned forward as well. “There’s one little thing, though.”

“What do you need?”

“Do you have food?” his smile was sheepish, and as if on cue, his stomach growled. “I haven’t eaten in weeks and I’ll need the extra energy.”

“Weeks?” Wonderwoman asked.

“Weeks!?” Superman seemed horrified.

“Do ghosts need to eat?” Green Lantern asked from the other side of Batman. Green Arrow shrugged.

“You can’t have not eaten in weeks, you should be dead!” Clark exclaimed, horrified.

As soon as the words came through his mouth he realized he already got his answer. Phantom smiled anyway.

“A bit late for that, huh.”

***

They had to get him food on the go as they travelled to the nearest zeta tube. Danny seemed okay with half a dozen burgers from McDonald’s, and a bucket worth of fries. And if someone had something to comment about the giant cup filled with soda floating close to his head even as he flew at high speed, no one acted like it was weird.

Danny did have something to comment about everything. The kid wouldn’t stop talking, asking questions about the League, about the members, about their powers. He seemed especially interested in how they got them or what motivated them to pursue the hero career at all. 

Batman only observed from Superman’s arms (no, he was not going to comment on this) as the kid ate away his weight in junk food and talked animatedly with Wonderwoman and John, who hitched a ride in her arms. 

“So are you saying that all that Greek mythology is real?”

“Yeah,” Diana always liked talking about her family and customs. “I’m an Amazon, born and raised in Themyscira.”

“Her mom is Hyppolita herself.” John added.

Danny’s eyes seemed to glow brighter. “I mean, I know Pandora and her people in the Ghost Zone, but I assumed it was only a theme or something.”

“Lady Pandora? She’s still alive?”

“Nope, she is the ruler of New Greece,” he chuckled, “back in the Infinite Realms.”

“Infinite Realms?” Constantine seemed interested.

“Is another name my- my people give the Ghost Zone.” Batman caught the hesitation. “How do I put this? It is like a dimension full of dimensions - all things that die go there, since the beginning of time. Different societies and cultures tended to band together and form worlds inside the dimension.”

“And New Greece? Is that where Greeks go when they die? How about the Hades? Do the gods go there as well?” 

Danny was shaking his head. “It doesn’t work like that. Uh… I said dead people go to the Infinite Realms when it is their time, but there are more than dead souls in there. There are… Born ghosts, who were never alive, for example. There are also Undyings there. Beings that exist outside time and that aren’t ghosts but reside there if they want.”

“Gods.”

“Not all of them are gods,” Danny’s voice was low and his eyes became dull. He floated his trash into a bag and stored it into a pouch in his belt, somehow fitting it. Was it a pocket dimension? “Okay! How long until we are there?”

Batman would have liked to insist on the topic (Undead gods from another dimension? He had to investigate in case of a future threat), but they were arriving at the closest zeta tube and the conversation would require more time.

“We need to do a quick jump and then fly a bit more,” he said, checking his computer. “The situation is turning more dire, we must hurry.”

Superman nodded and flew faster, Diana and John close behind, the kid noticing the others hurrying and boosting his speed as well. Clark’s eyes followed the bright form of the teenage-looking superhero before coming back to his teammate in his arms.

“Already investigating,” Batman knew that look. Superman was especially sensitive when children were involved in League missions, and the fact that their ace-in-the-hole was just a kid clashed with everything the man believed in. “Oracle’s been searching since we got out of the warehouse.”

Superman nodded, looking back at the kid doing loops and flying around the League members, asking more questions while he still could.

Batman looked down at his computer, changing to another tab and continued reading the articles Oracle found about this ‘Phantom’ superhero, after making a worrying comment about how tightly secured any and all news about this ‘Amity Park’ were. Pentagon level of security - nothing she couldn’t handle, but that didn’t fit in a small town in Illinois.

The hero was relatively new, had the people’s opinion divided, did some shady stuff and then saved them from a massive ghost invasion. For a while there was a crazy rise of ghost fight sightings until it stopped abruptly.

And then…

[Local hero Phantom new King of the Ghosts? Human liaisons Samantha Manson, Tucker Foley and Daniel Fenton confess association with the ghost since highschool.]

There was a photo attached to the article, of the ghost and two kids, humans, smiling awkwardly at the camera. The girl, Samantha, seemed familiar to him. Manson? The more he thought about it he felt the name familiar. The boy he didn’t know at all.

But there was another name mentioned as human liaison. Daniel Fenton? He felt he should know that name.

A new ping from Oracle alerted him of another of her findings, and he opened without hesitation. It was a science journal article talking about the Fentons and ridiculing their field of investigation - ghost hunting, ectobiology, paranormal technology.

Another ping - a photo of the family. The parents wearing jumpsuits. A girl, maybe the older sister, looking like a normal girl. A boy, a teenager, normal looking. His eyes were a striking blue that looked nervously to the side, even if he was trying to smile at the camera, and his raven hair was carelessly brushed away from his face, probably for the picture. 

Batman went back to the newspaper picture with the two humans and the ghost, noticing Superman start descending as they arrived at the zeta tube. Danny Phantom and the other kids. One human is missing. Batman pulled the family picture. Daniel Fenton trying to make himself look smaller, invisible.

He looked at the King of the Ghosts trying to coax John into confessing how he really got the diary. 

The connection wasn’t difficult to make, but it only raised more and more questions. How did he end up like this? How did a kid from a small town end up as a being summoned by a spell that Constantine was almost too scared to do? 

What had happened to this kid?

***

One teleport and one quick flight later and the kid finally stopped asking questions, more specifically, stopped asking Green Lantern about the Green Lantern Corps. 

“Oh fuck,” he cursed as he saw the destruction and the still rampaging giant creature in the distance.

“Language,” Superman said without thinking. The kid laughed.

“Sorry.”

“FINALLY!” the lightning was a telltale before the Flash appeared before them, “did you summon the kingy thing?”

Danny took a step back, hiding behind Superman’s cape, equally stoked to see the Flash in person but spooked by his sudden appearance. 

“Report.”

“Gee, Batman, everything’s fine around here. So did you meet with the ghost?”

Superman turned his head to check on the ghost kid, trying to be inconspicuous, but Flash saw the movement and found the kid hiding there. Flash frowned a little bit and looked back at the man of steel.

"Adoption on-the-go? I expected something like this from Bats but-"

"No! Nobody adopted anyone," Superman sighed and stepped aside. He cleared his throat. "This is the Ghost King."

Flash blinked. "You are joking, right?"

"He is. Believe me."

"He is right here!” Danny frowned, making Flash laugh. He looked like an angry puppy. “And I-”

In a blink, the kid turned and put up a shield, his armor materializing again in a burst of green flames. He then jumped away from the group, floating up to evade a rush of magic energy blasts, eyes searching for the source of the threat.

“Zatanna!” Constantine was already screaming, waving his arms, in an effort to make her stop trying to decimate their solution to the eldritch problem. “He is alright!”

“Have you gone MAD!” she screamed back, magically floating into the group, her eyes following the kid as he dodged more of her attacks. “That thing is dangerous! And you brought it here!?”

“That’s the King we were trying to summon!”

“What!?” she turned briefly, but that was enough. 

Danny took advantage of the moment and shot his own green ray, hitting the woman in the chest. Everyone rushed to check if she was okay, eyes nervously going back to the ghostly creature floating at a distance.

Zatanna was okay. Her wrists and ankles bound together, and a gag in her mouth so she couldn’t do any more spells. She wasn’t even hurt where the ray collided with her chest. At most, she was annoyed at being on the dirty floor.

“I would appreciate it if people stopped trying to shoot me first and ask questions later.”

Danny floated back to the group, glaring at the bound magician, his armor still in place.

“I’m Danny. I’m the Ghost King. And these people summoned me to help with some kind of situation. I mean no harm and when I’m done I will leave. Okay?”

Zatanna looked regretful and sighed, nodding. She lifted her bound hands and he made the green shackles disappear with a wave of his hand.

“You are just a kid,” was the first thing she said. 

“So I've been told,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “But I’m actually eighteen. Not a kid.”

“You still have the ‘teen’ in the number. Sorry, kid.” 

If looks could kill, Constantine would be underground already. 

“This is cute and everything, but could we focus on the issue at hand?” Flash shifted his weight from one foot to another. He wanted to know more of this kid, but the monster they needed him to defeat was super scary.

“Report?” Batman continued like nothing had happened at all.

“Everyone from this city is safe. So far the creature is wandering and looking for more victims. Shazam and Manhunter are on distraction duty.”

The Bat nodded, turned towards Danny. “What can we do to assist you?”

Flash would never forget the moment he witnessed Batman waiting for orders from a kid.

“I can do this alone. I think it's best if you guys get as far away as possible.”

“But if you fail we need a contingency plan.”

“I won’t,” Danny’s confidence should be reassuring, but it only worried them more. “I just know I can deal with this. Don’t ask why.”

“Why?” 

The teenager growled, and for a moment Batman thought he saw his shadow flicker, but then the ghost breathed deeply and smiled without showing his teeth. “I need my secrets to be mysterious, don’t you think?”

He was deflecting, but this was not the moment to interrogate the kid. An explosion and a loud scream in the background reminded him why.

“Okay, I will go and when it’s safe to come out I’ll tell you.”

“We are going with you.”

“Uh, no??” Danny frowned. “That thing is dangerous.”

“That’s why-”

“No, no. I mean it’s dangerous for mortals. I will be fine…” Batman gave him a look, and Danny groaned. “You are worse than my sister. Fine! I guess. But stay away.”

“Take a communicator, at least,” the bat opened a compartment with the backup devices and instructed the ghost on how to set it on his ear. “You know how to use it?”

Danny nodded. They worked a bit like the Fenton phones. He hoped they didn’t get much distortion from his ghostly presence, like every electronic device not adapted to ectoplasm.

“Any last minute request?” Superman seemed tense, eyeing the sword at the hip of the ghost, which he hadn’t noticed materialize before.

“Yeah. Um…” Danny looked down for a moment. “I really like you guys, so… Whatever happens, whatever you see… I’m still me. And my boyfriend would kill me if I managed to antagonize the whole Justice League,” he rubbed the back of his head, nervous.

The man of steel noticed the sharp teeth peeking from his lips when he smiled trying to mask his fear. Somehow he knew that it was going to get ugly real fast.

He put a hand on his armored shoulder. “It’s okay, son. We believe in you. And if you need us just ask.”

The kid didn’t seem convinced but appreciated the gesture. He didn’t even flinch at the hand contact.

“Let’s go,” Batman shut down the moment and gestured to the ghost to follow him where Manhunter had informed them through the mind link the creature was.

In the back, Flash turned towards Green Arrow. “The Ghost King is gay?”

***

Batman was equally excited and afraid to see this boy in action. His request from before only added a new piece to the puzzle, more questions. What could make them antagonize the ghost after they declared he was an ally? He looked down at the transcription of an old book regarding the Ghost King. Granted it was made by humans and it stated it was a translation from something called ‘ghost speak’ and that was also translated from the language ‘of the gods’ (the book’s words); so Batman preferred to take everything he read with a grain of salt.

Even so, he could gather that the King was maddenly powerful, so much that the last king, Pariah Dark, had to be sealed away by the ‘Ancients’ after going actually mad because no one could defeat him in single combat. 

Then something about a ring and a crown? That the objects weren’t just relics, something about how they were powerful themselves. Batman remembered the crown, but he didn’t see any ring when Danny showed his true form back at the warehouse.

He looked up at Danny as the boy carefully turned around a corner, following Manhunter’s instructions in his mind (the boy freaked out for a second when the alien settled the link, before he apologized for the mental shields he had to lower down for the leaguer). The boy had to defeat this… Pariah Dark, to inherit the title. That’s how these things worked. Right of conquest.

So. There was this human boy, Daniel James Fenton, who somehow gained ghost powers and then defeated the previous Ghost King and… what? Stole the ring and the crown and magically gained the title?

A human acting as Ghost King?

“Uh, that’s nasty,” Danny whistled under his breath.

They had arrived at the place the monster was in, Shazam and Manhunter still flying in circles at a safe distance and trying to keep it in place. Danny took in the horror and the eyes and the shadows with a straight face, all the smiles and the jokes gone from his expression. His eyes showed a deep recognition.

“I barely survived-”

Has he met a creature like this before?

Or… was he implying he bonded with one, too? Maybe that explained Zatanna’s sudden attack, and the nervous looks she sent his way from time to time. Batman saw her and Constantine whispering something at the back of the group, making wide gestures and worried faces. They knew something and they weren’t telling.

But he couldn’t ask now.

“Okay, I’m going in. Wish me luck!” he didn’t wait for a response and kicked the floor, launching himself up to fly towards the hybrid creature.

“Hey ugly!” , he heard the boy scream through the comms. “I heard you liked to eat stuff. Eat this!”

And the boy punched the hybrid in the face, or what was left of it, pushing it back towards the end of the street, giant black mass of a body and all.

“Huh, directly to the point. I like it.” Diana tried to smile, but she was worried as well.

"Bats," he turned, finding the worried faces of the Justice League Dark members. "That kid is not normal."

"I've gathered," he nodded, his eyes following as the kid in question flew confidently towards the creature, which was recovering from the hit and was trying to lash back at the ghost. 

"No, he's not even human." Zatanna was terrified. "He was, once. Not anymore."

"Z says she can sense a creature just like our buddy there."

That interested the man. "Is he dangerous?" He didn't want to have double the problem. "Why didn't you mention any of this before you summoned him?"

"There was nothing about any eldritch god in the book," Constantine was already shaking his head. "We checked - Raven said the book was legit but not evil, even if she didn't recognize the language."

"He seems in control, maybe he's not possessed? Maybe he has access to some of its powers and that's that." Diana leaned in the conversation.

"Or maybe he is a god. Or an alien." Superman pitched in, trying to seem positive and not freak out at the obvious otherness of the kid. It would be a bit hypocritical, too.

Ok, this conversation was not private anymore. Batman sighed, opening his computer and showing the family photo to his colleagues.

"Born human. Daniel James Fenton. One older sister and both parents are human and alive. Almost four years ago he was involved in a lab accident - I assume it gave him some extent of ghost abilities."

"Could be a cover story, something to blend in with humanity." Diana wasn't surprised he had gathered so much information from the boy already, including his human secret identity.

Batman was already shaking his head. "Oracle says it checks out. Either this entity is very skilled at forging a life here or he is human."

"Not anymore, Bats. I mean, I can sense some human-like aura but it is buried under layers and layers of raw power. The bad kind of power. Nothing I've dealt with before," Zatanna insisted.

"I repeat, is he dangerous?"

As if answering him, the boy then plummeted down towards the creature, the collision sending a wave that reached the heroes. An explosion of green fire came next and they heard growls and high pitched screams through the comms.

“I said,'' Danny's voice was distorted, as if he spoke with more than one layer, more than one voice. Batman checked, but there was nothing wrong with the communicators. “Go back to wherever you came from and leave these people alone!”

“We won't let a puny mortal tell us what to do!” The answer came from both the comms and their own ears, as the rumbling voice could be heard from the other side of the street. It was barely human and the words were distorted by the voice obviously not made to sound with human vocal chords.

“Oh yeah, I will- ARGH!” The boy’s scream made some of them cringe from how loud it was against sensitive hearing through the communication device.

The glowing body of the armored kid flew backwards from an attack they didn’t quite see. Superman tensed, ready to jump and catch the kid before his head hit the concrete; but Danny recovered mid air and landed on his own feet, sliding a bit from the momentum of the throw.

Batman watched carefully how the boy growled and his lips curled, showing sharp teeth and unnaturally elongated upper and lower canines. His gray-ish blue skin pulsed with something, the scars in his skin glowing greener and flickering, displaced by the movement of the muscles below. 

But it was not a natural way of muscle stretching, it was almost as if he could control the surface level of skin, like a cat - a smooth ripple coursing through his body.

The glowing green eyes flashed and for a split second, Batman swore he saw the pupil contract into slits. He blinked, and his eyes were back to normal.

“Stand back,” it took a moment to realize that the kid was talking to them. “I need more space.”

Wonderwoman gave the kid a worried glance, but she quickly obeyed, dragging the bat and the man of steel with her, both frozen in place at the sight of the kid transforming in front of their own eyes.

If he was unsettling before, now Danny was giving more and more reason to believe that he was the rightful ruler of the dimension of the dead - his hair waved with an invisible breeze, showing pointed ears they hadn’t noticed before; his hands curled in claws, the nails growing and becoming thicker, real claws; and his eyes…

Danny blinked and his eyes became only sclera. Toxic green flowing, glowing, the corners of his eyes pouring out some kind of green mist, as if the sockets weren’t enough to contain all the green and the power in them.

The boy also straightened his back, becoming suddenly taller, broader, not afraid to show all the muscles bulging in his arms and chest as he tensed, ready to jump.

But that wasn’t all. The ripple he saw before in his skin happened again and again, in sync with some kind of heartbeat he couldn’t hear. With each beat, the skin became darker and more… purple, the glow of the scars diminishing.

Danny jumped in place, as if flinching. He made a sound that came from deep in his chest and the rippling stopped.

He had become a different person altogether, some kind of creature less and less human, and it was now easier to believe Zatanna that this… Daniel Fenton had stopped being human a long time ago. 

When the bat thought the transformation had stopped, it was when it happened.

The lights went out. The streetlights that were lining both sides dimmed until they went out, and the neon signs of the few shops and cafés in the area exploded at the same time. Darkness began creeping from the shadows, tentacles made of absence of light, of existence, a tangible form of darkness that was almost a physical form.

All of the darkness crawled towards Danny, as if he was some kind of black hole, absorbing matter around him. It wasn’t until the dark void tentacles grabbed him from the waist and lifted him up that they didn’t notice how from their position they could almost hear it whisper the kid’s name over and over again.

For a moment Batman feared that the creature had done something to trap their ally, but it went out of the window when the Ghost King himself let a few dark tentacles curl around his hand and lifted them towards his face, nuzzling them like a mother cat.

Their eyes met for a brief moment. The kid’s all green eyes were hard to read, but the bat somehow got the impression that the boy was sad to be seen like this.

Phantom turned, his body carried towards the hulkling figure of the hybrid by the material darkness around him.

“Impossible!” they heard through the comms the growling voice of the creature. “This is not possible!”

“One last chance to surrender,” Daniel’s voice was also changed. A deeper layer also not made to exist in human voice boxes was under the usual echoey voice of the ghost. 

In the silence that followed another voice was almost heard in the background, a whispering nonsense of words. Clark frowned, tilting his head, trying to decipher what they were hearing, mouthing the sounds and waiting to make sense of them.

“Sir, We didn’t know- I mean, I didn’t, we…”

A growl. The deeper voice fought for dominance, and the street became even darker, if that was even possible. 

“I didn’t know this was your turf, sir!” The creature’s voice became a bit high at the end, the layered voice turning into a prolonged whine, like a kicked puppy. The eyes and the tentacles that the hybrid had slithered between the buildings started to retract.

“You knew, you just didn’t care. This place is MINE.”  

“No, sir. Please! Please, sir! No-!” a crunching sound was heard, followed by a layered scream and more of that whine. Some leaguers shivered, happy to not be able to see what was going on. “I’M SORRY SIR. PLEASE HAVE MERCY!”

“Mercy? You should have known before you bothered the people of this planet,” another crunch, followed by wet noises. 

Someone gagged behind Batman. 

“MERCY!” was the last gurgling scream as more and more crunch and wet noises filled the comms, the alarming speed increasing as the seconds ticked, drowning whatever the hybrid was trying to say to plead for its case, until not even the whine could be heard.

Only the chewing.

Batman had to admit. He was used to weird stuff. As a Gothamite through and through, he had to develop an iron stomach to process everything he saw in his career as a vigilante. But this? This made him swallow back bile and shiver uncomfortably.

A few seconds later they heard heavy breathing and Danny whispering something that sounded like “it’s okay, i’m okay, we’re okay” before the bulbs of the streetlights came back on. The air was less heavy, something they hadn’t noticed had changed, as well as their breathing was back to normal.

But things weren’t exactly ‘back to normal’.

Danny appeared soon after, flying carefully towards the group of terrified heroes, his scary form gone and the armor gone and looking like a normal kid. He had some kind of black ooze smudge on his cheek, probably an effort to clean his face after-

The crunching and the deep layered voice was still fresh in their minds. This was not a normal kid. Not even a meta or enhanced kid. Or their usual level of weird and scary. No. There was a reason that this was the Ghost King, and they had witnessed it.

“Heyyyy….” Danny waved his hand, landing without making a sound. “Sorry for the show, ha ha,” he laughed nervously, not really looking anyone in the eye, his hands unable to settle in any position. “I admit it was a bit too much for the usual so… yeah…”

Nobody could really speak.

“Um, the guy’s gone?” he pointed with his thumb towards where the threat had been. Now they were too afraid to check what was left. “So if you don’t need anything else… I can… I mean, I can make my own portals, kinda, a friend is teaching me. Uh, I’m rambling again. I’m going to shut up now.”

Another moment of shocked silence. Danny tried to smile, but it only reminded them of his sharp teeth and fangs. He had to feel all the stares fixed on his mouth and what it did just a few minutes before.

“O…kay…” the kid swallowed, uncomfortable, “It’s been a blast, guys. Call me if you need anything else,” he lifted a hand to make a portal to leave, but a hand stopped him.

“What the actual fuck, kid?” 

“Language,” Superman blinked, coming back to reality at the absurdity of reprimanding Constantine. 

Phantom snorted, realizing the same. The warlock glared at the Super before turning back to the ghost.

“Those were some, um, moves, kid.”

He smiled, his cheeks becoming a little green. “Thanks! But you should see my wife!”

“You are married?” John tilted his head, narrowing his eyes.

“No! I mean, it was supposed to be a joke from that movie… nevermind, - and I do have a girlfriend I plan to marry waaaaay in the future but - uh, you know what? If she was here she would kill me for this.” His face had gone green, and they assumed it was him blushing. The blush was cute, but out of place next to the remaining blood of the creature on his face.

“Is she a ghost, too?” Is she like you? Constantine was trying to ask. Better be warned in case they multiply.

“Nope! Human!”

“A meta, then?” this interested Diana, who had relaxed at the rather normal conversation. 

“Nope again! She’s completely human, but she has a special suit, well, more like an armor… Kinda like Batman! She’s normal but she’s amazing! Not that I don’t think you are amazing, Batman! Aaaaaand maybe I should stop talking again.”

“I thought you were gay?” Barry walked up to ask.

“Bi, actually,” Danny’s shoulders relaxed. He preferred talking about this and completely ignoring what had happened before. “And poly. Sam and Tucker are the best partners I could have asked for.”

He pulled his phone to search for photos to show the interested leaguers, but Batman interrupted him.

“Kid,” he looked up at the man in a dark suit. “We need to talk.”

Danny gulped loudly. “Do we?”

“Yes. Like, for example, how does a human named Daniel James Fenton end up eating an eldritch god like it’s nothing.”

The kid sobered, his fingers frozen over the screen of his phone. When he looked back at the bat, his expression had sobered. “You really are the world’s best detective, huh.” He smiled, but it was weak.

Batman didn’t smile.

“It’s not like it’s a secret, not anymore” Danny shrugged. “I was a kid and I did something stupid, there was an accident with a portal to the ghost dimension, I got some cool ghost powers, defeated the other king, now I’m here.”

“I’ve already gathered as much, kid. But that,” the man gestured towards where the horror happened, “that is not ‘some cool ghost powers’.”

“I may… have skipped a few things.”

“Yes, you did.” He crossed his arms.

“Hey, Bats, I don’t think-” Supes frowned, feeling the kid start to close on himself, his glow diminishing.

“What do you want to know?” Danny pocketed his phone and straightened his back, trying to put on the mask of the King. “And why?” He narrowed his eyes.

“I want to know if we should worry about another hybrid problem soon.”

Phantom’s lips stretched in a joyless smile. “I should have known you figured it out. Not like I was hiding anything.” He shrugged.

“So it’s true?”

“Yeah, I’m the host of another god.” He didn’t move, not even when Diana stepped back quietly. “But mine was a more… successful ceremony.”

“Why? What did you expect to gain? More power?” Zatanna approached him.

“No.” He said quickly, not wanting to elaborate further. Batman glared harder. Danny sighed. “Before I say more I would like to ask for your absolute discretion. This information is classified even in the Ghost Zone and only some of the Council are allowed to know.”

They nodded.

“Also I would like to preface this by saying that I did what I had to do.”

“We understand.” Zatanna wanted to put a hand on the kid’s shoulder, but when she moved he only curled more into himself, looking down at his gloved hands.

He suddenly seemed to age before them. The tired and underfed kid they had summoned was back, gone was the high and proud King of the Ghosts, but his eyes were hardened around the edges. Batman had only seen that look a few times in his life.

“I became… something else. With the union, I mean. ‘Union’, ha, it makes it sound like it’s a marriage,” he scoffed. “I’m the host, but my role is more like a buffer between the Whisper and the ghosts in my dimension. If there’s not a King bonded with it, the Whisper will eat it all. And if the Infinite Realms go down, the human world goes too. They are like two sides of the same coin.”

“Power? I guess I gained more power,” he continued, shrugging, “but the cost is too high. You saw what it can do to a weaker human mind. It could have been me, if the Whisper didn’t like me.”

“But you were not human to begin with.” the Bat not-asked.

“No. I died in the accident, but came back as something in between. A halfa. Half human and half ghost.”

There was a brief moment of silence.

“So you are saying,” Flash swallowed the knot in his throat, “that you died, defeated the previous king and volunteered to get possessed by an eldritch god because if you didn’t do it then the world would end? At only eighteen?”

“Fourteen. I was fourteen.” The corners of his mouth curved up, knowing how it sounded out loud. “The coronation part was a few months ago, but, the rest… yeah.”

***

Back at the Watchtower, the Justice League was having an impromptu emergency meeting. 

It was pure mayhem - half of them couldn’t sit still and were pacing around, talking out loud, maybe hoping that bouncing ideas would somehow solve anything. The other half sat frozen at the table, an air of defeat and astonishment over them. Superman was straight up crying, no longer trying to keep it in now that they were safe at the Watchtower and the kid went back to his realm.

“This is fucked up. This is so fucked up.”

“Why did the League never hear of this?”

“He’s just a kid! Our nuke option is barely out of high school!”

“Bats, there must be something we can do, right?” Superman said, more calm now that he cried it out. Diana was patting him on the back, also looking expectantly at the Bat.

The Dark Knight was sitting with his head in his hands. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. He had never encountered anything like this before. A kid that slipped between the cracks like this, becoming a willing host to an eldritch horror, unguided, alone.

How could this happen? They should have been alerted as soon as the ghost attacks started in Amity Park, as Danny had confirmed his hometown was called. They should have been there, assisting the young hero, training him better…

And now it was too late for them. A kid had almost died (he refused to believe he died all the way) and took upon himself to save them all, not only not asking for anything in return, but sacrificing himself to an eternity on the edge of becoming what they were asking him to stop.

Danny explained all of this with a calm and serenity that could only exist from a deep acceptance of what he had become. He tried to brush it away and simply move on, cracking jokes that didn’t quite land (he reminded Batman so much of his sons) and nervously laughing and resuming his light questioning of the League members.

Shortly before he left, he asked them if they could keep it touch. He said he was trying to form a Council and wasn’t sure how to create a functional one, especially when ghosts were not exactly the teamwork type of creature. And so, he wanted some advice.

So they exchanged contact information, the boy giddy as he typed in the phone numbers of those that allowed it; ecstatic when even Batman shared his number as well (for emergencies ONLY) once Oracle deemed his device totally secure. 

Danny’s phone had an anime background and a few games that Shazam recognized, starting an enthusiastic conversation about gaming strategies.

He was just a kid. An eldritch god that could eat an entire dimension full of dimensions, destroying everything they knew in the process, lived inside this kid. 

They were supposed to protect everyone on this planet from evil. The whole point of the Justice League was that. But they had failed.

Batman suddenly had the urge to go back to Gotham, hug his children and never let them out of his sight.

BACK TO THE ARCHIVE

Sequel>>

[pl-panda]

The Vines that bind us - Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don’t own Miraculous Ladybug or any DC characters. I own only the plot, and even that is inspired by the amazing story "Marigold Ivy" by @lwandile13 on Wattpad. Go check it. It's great. He allowed me to take some inspiration, for which I'm grateful. Also, don't translate the french words maybe. Or at least do it on your own responsibility. Big thanks to @Liza! on Discord for being my Beta :)

NEXT

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a normal girl, with a normal life. But she had a secret. Her real name was Marigold Isley. She was born under that name in Gotham city sixteen years ago. Her mother never revealed to her who was her father, but Mari never cared. She was happy with her mom and several aunts and uncles. Technically, none of them were related to her by blood, but Rogues were quite close to each other (excluding some outcasts like Joker or the Menagerie). They taught her many interesting things such as lockpicking, stealth 101, or hand-to-hand combat. She was five when it started, so her first-ever practical test was breaking into a kitchen cupboard and stealing a jar of cookies. Overall, she was very happy. 

It changed when she was eight. One very tired social service person named Elizabeth Barrow got wind of a child of a villain. That Elizabeth was new to Gotham after being reassigned from Metropolis and didn’t yet get the wind of how things worked. Maybe her colleagues didn’t like her, or maybe she was just too overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the problem in Gotham. Previously, there was an unspoken agreement in the government that they wouldn’t notice Marigold. In exchange, rogues were calmer. Or at least tried to keep the death toll down. For a time, Gotham even started to slowly heal. But then, Elizabeth took the case of Marigold Isley. Ivy tried to fight. To protect her daughter. For three days, the city was held hostage by giant plants. It was only the fear in her daughter’s eyes that made Poison Ivy relent and let go. She didn’t want that life for Marigold. The one condition she gave was that the girl would leave America as a whole, to ensure she would be safe from all the madness. 

And so Marigold ended up in the care of baker’s couple in Paris. She never showed any powers thus far and the adoption agency kept the parentage a secret. That’s when Marinette Dupain-Cheng was born. She continued with martial arts training and stealth training, but now only as fun and reminder of her mother and extended family, as opposed to actual necessary survival tool. She also picked up designing as another hobby, which soon turned into a kind of obsession. She was generally a ray of sunshine. 

The one black spot in the happy world of Marinette was the Mayor’s daughter. Chloe Bourgeoise considered herself above others and just couldn’t stand sunshine girl. She ruined her clothes, sometimes damaged her homework, or verbally assaulted her. While Chloe was generally disliked, she was more of a nuance. Overall, Marinette was happy. At least until two events changed that. 

When she was twelve, Paris was attacked by Hawkmoth for the first time. Marinette found herself becoming Ladybug, a superhero with magical powers that protected the city from harm. She received a partner in form of Chat Noir. It took some time before she got hang of it, and then more time before she and Chat became an actual team. Over time, more heroes joined them, even if temporarily only. She had people she could count on. She became Happy again. 

Privately, she started her own brand: MDC, managed to become a class representative, and became best friends with Alya, who joined around the same time she became Ladybug. It was quite ironic. The superhero was best friends with one person whose greatest dream was to unmask the hero. Marinette also developed a huge (and a bit unhealthy) crush on Adrien Agreste, a famous model who was in her class. She spent years vying for his attention, but nothing ever came from her attempts. She was unable to even say a word around him and her face always became red like her mother’s hair. Overall, she couldn’t complain.

Then, when she was fifteen another black spot appeared. It was Lila (Liela) Rossi. She came to their school and immediately started sporting lies with every breath. Surprisingly, everyone seemed to buy into that, believing her like she spoke the gospel. Everyone but Marinette. She tried to expose Lila, but it only backfired. She became an outcast, disliked by everyone, and universally hated. Suddenly, it became okay to bully her because she was a bully herself and deserved it. It became okay to shun her and no longer include her in anything. The worst was Alya, her former best friend. At first, she just tried to nudge Marinette to give Lila a chance. When Marinette tried to show the truth, Alya practically attacked her. She was just as much responsible for Mari being cast out as Lila was. The fact that her best friend abandoned her only fueled the gossip and allowed Lila to drive the final nail in. In the span of a few weeks, Marinette was left alone. 

Around the same time, Chat Noir became more persistent in his pursuit of her while Adrien, who Marinette knew was aware of the lies, was only telling her to keep the high road (do nothing). She could understand him. As a famous model and son of a well-known fashion designer, he was always taught to not provoke the press. It still served as a wake-up call on her crush. 

--------

Marinette was packing her things after lessons when she noticed someone approach her from behind. Immediately, she tensed. After eleven years of martial arts practice, it was an instinct. Before she had time to turn around, something heavy landed on her desk with a loud Thud!. She turned to see Chloe standing over a large book, a single thick envelope, and a puffy bag that content Marinette couldn’t guess.

“What’s a…” She started, but Chloe cut her off. She had her usual ‘resting witch’ expression.

“The book contains every single instance I verbally assaulted you, destroyed something of yours, talked about you behind your back, or in any way otherwise did something wrong toward you. Here are the materials for the damaged clothes,” she pushed the bag toward her, “and here is money for other things.” Chloe gave her the envelope. “I apologize for all of that. I was jealous of all the attention you kept getting even though I thought I deserved it. I now realize that my behavior was wrong and hurtful. I will understand if you’ll never speak to me again. I kept acting ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” With that, she turned and started to walk again. Marinette idly noticed that there was no Sabrina nearby. Thinking back, Chloe was no longer acting (overly) mean toward anyone as of late.

Making a split-second decision, Marinette raced after the blonde and pulled her into a hug.

“Wha…” Chloe yelped before sinking into the hug. Neither girl realized they were crying until they finally separated. Blonde had her lite make-up in total ruin while Marinette had tears still going down her cheeks. “Does that mean you accept my apologies?”

Marinette didn’t answer immediately. She stood there with open mouth for a moment before smiling weakly. “Yes, Chloe.”

Since that day, they were best friends. It turned out to be a blessing. Chloe, once she finally allowed someone to truly know her, turned out to be a highly intelligent, funny, and very much still overbearing person. She still acted high and mighty, but it no longer felt mean, rather just… felt. She took to defending Marinette from the rest of the class. She was aware of Lila’s lies from day one but never acted on it until it was too late. Sabina abandoned her for the liar. Dealing with loneliness was hard on her. She didn’t even have parents that cared. Her father would probably move sun if she asked, but he had an emotional range of a toothpick. Her mother didn’t even know her name, so she didn’t bother.

Something about their friendship must’ve upset Lila because the girl upped her game. Marinette’s parents suddenly found themselves facing strong critique and constant inspection from the sanitary department and child protection questioning their parenting abilities. MDC, who was slowly becoming one of the go-to fashion designers for famous found herself in the middle of several fake media scandals, including one lawsuit over defamation. If it wasn’t for Jagged Stone and Penny rallying her customers, Marinette and her parents would end up broke. He managed to save MDC and practically made her untouchable. Still, Alya and Lila got off scot-free as nothing could be linked to them.

Perhaps what pushed Lila over the edge was Chloe confronting Adrien. She yelled at him for good two hours straight about responsibility and morality, pointing in detail exactly what he did wrong. She would probably go on if Marinette didn’t stop her. After that, Adrien finally apologized and tried to make things right, but it only turned against him. By then, Lila had everyone so deep into it, that he was powerless. She didn’t go after him as her partnership with Gabriel Agreste was too important, but she did tattle to the Fashion Mogul about it. Gabriel tried to get his son under control, but this was one thing that he couldn’t achieve. 

It did inspire a whole youth fashion line ‘rebel’, which became a global hit.

All this time, Marinette kept two secrets. One was her identity as Ladybug and the guardian, the other was her true name and family. Until she kept neither.

----------

Marinette returned home after another day at school. Recently, her mother revealed she was pregnant with another child, even though she was believed to be barren. Everyone in the bakery was overjoyed and the couple even started to hand out small treats to any guest that came. The free samples helped the business return to a better standing. 

When she entered, strangely there was no sound in the bakery. It was empty. Usually, her parents would both be very busy as it was still business hours. Slightly worried, she went upstairs. When she entered the living room, she found an envelope addressed to her. 

Isley

We tried, but we can no longer tolerate you. We turned a blind eye when we learned how improper you act, trying to drag every boy you meet for some, and we quote, “alone time”. We didn’t react to the bullying accusations, believing them to be overexaggerated. Even when you were expelled, we still had hoped you’ll turn out into a fine young lady. But now, we must think of the baby. Today was the last straw. Hearing about how you ruined that poor impaired girl’s birthday was both cruel and against everything we taught you. 

We held hope you won’t follow in your mother’s footsteps, but you proved us wrong several times. We supported your obsession over fashion, even with the drama it caused, because it was actually non-violent. At first, we didn’t want to teach you how to fight, but we convinced ourselves that you would have a way to vent the emotions somewhere away from us. 

Please, don’t try looking for us. We will probably have already left the country or even the continent. The bakery is yours. We don’t want to have anything to do with the spawn of evil such as you. 

We hoped you would turn out better

Sincerely,

Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng

Marinette tried to read it over and over again, but her eyes welled with tears. She had no idea she was screaming until her throat was coarse. Rationally, she knew she needed to keep calm or she would attract the Akuma, but emotions made her not care. 

Unknowingly to her, the plants all around Paris responded to her cry. They started growing and spreading, trying to get to their queen and comfort her. The Akuma that would’ve come for her stumbled into one of the vines, corrupting it. Hawkmoth was surprised, it was not something anyone ever seen in Paris except on TV or some strange Japanese shows that play after midnight. The more important thing was that even though he akumatized the plants, he had no control over them. He couldn’t even recall his Akuma. 

Back in Marinette’s living room, she started to feel the ground rumble. Soon, plants exploded from the ground and broke windows. She slowly looked at her hands to see them tinted with green. They were not the same as her mother’s, but close. She looked to the floor where pieces of glass littered everything. Her face was the same, but her hair became blue and her eyes were now the most vibrant iridescent green she’s ever seen, exactly the same color her mother’s eyes were. 

She started to panic even more. Tikki floated next to her, talking to her, but Marinette couldn’t hear her. Or maybe process it. She could hear the plants call to her. She could hear them speak. They promised her revenge. They promised retribution on those who attacked her. God’s wrath would rain upon them from the sky and hell’s fury would consume them from beneath. 

Impaired girl…

“Liar Rossi.” Marigold seethed. She knew there was only one person who would do such a thing. Only one talented enough to convince her parents she was a villain. If they wanted a villain, they would get one. Her mind was being clouded. Her clothes were already torn, replaced by a skintight outfit made of leaves, much like her mother wore. Then, Marinette remembered another part of the letter. She added a skirt made of purple petals that complimented her blue hair nicely and long sleeves that reached to her hands, ending with a triangle that reached her middle finger and surrounded it at the base. She left the decolletage as it was.

Exiting her house, she allowed the vines to carry her. There were only so many places The Liar could hide. First, she went toward School, as it was closest. She made plants carry her over the roof right into the courtyard while more of them broke the doors and blocked any exit. The fencing class was still going on, but The Liar was not there. She looked over the scared crowd, spotting two people she wanted to find. She needed to protect them from The Liar, else they end like her. She grabbed the fencer in a red outfit and her partner, knocking their masks to reveal Kagami and Adrien. The plants wrapped around them, forming a sort of cocoon before dragging them to the heart. Marinette then turned her sight to Eifel tower. She knew The Liar liked to drag the class there. 

As she moved through town, she passed the Hotel where Chloe lived. Pausing, she made the plants lift her toward the balcony. Her best friend was indeed there, right next to the lit-up Bee-signal. Honeystly…

“Marinette!?” The blonde jumped in surprise

“Marinette is gone. She should’ve never even been. I’m Marigold, the daughter of Poison Ivy.” For a moment, the fog thickened, but Mari shook it off quickly enough, before whatever caused it managed to get the hold of her. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng! If you got yourself akumatized, I’m telling my daddy!” Chloe shouted. Seeing the tears form in the iridescent green eyes, she looked at her friend with pity. “Oh, Mari! Is this the Liar again? Come here right now!” The blonde spread her arms for a hug. She didn’t care about the Akuma. Her friend needed her and she would help her conquer the world if she asked. Chloe owed Mari… everything. She helped her evolve beyond being the queen witch. In response to the gesture, the plants in the garden started to grow until they surrounded the two of them in a tight cocoon. Marinette stepped onto the balcony. She affectionately petted the vine that carried her so far before allowing it to return to its hunt for the Liar. 

“Chloeee!” Mari launched herself at the girl. She sunk into the embrace, allowing tears to start flowing again. She sobbed her heart out while pushing a piece of paper she constantly held in her clutched fist before. The blonde took it and read while patting Marinette on the back of her head. 

“Salauds! Ridiculous! Utterly Ridiculous! How dare that cochons! And the chienne! Wait till I tell daddy about this! Don’t worry Mari. I will protect you! I will ruin her! Merde!” The rant made Marigold pause. She never heard Chloe curse. Like… never. “But first. Mari. You know I love you and I would help you hide the body, but drop the Akuma. It’s making you look Ridiculous. Utterly Ridiculous! I mean the dress is so much spot on and so you, but the whole take over Paris is more my style. I can let you be my faithful sidekick while we take over the world if you want.”

For a moment, Marigold continued to stare at Chloe before she burst out in a fit of laughter. It wasn’t a nervous chuckle or the villain cackle, but genuine pearly laughter. It was just so… Chloe-ish. She couldn’t imagine anyone trying to dissuade an Akuma by offering to become a sidekick. 

“You… You… Never change Chlo.” Mari smiled at her friend. 

“Whoa. You… didn’t make me a fertilizer? I mean, of course, you wouldn’t. You are just too good of a person, but Hawkmoth…”

“I’m not akumatized Chloe.” Mari smiled. “It’s me.” As if to prove her point, she stood up and spun, allowing the blonde to see her from all sides. “This is how I really look. Apparently, I do take some after my mom.”

“Your… mom?”

“Pamela Isley, she was a famous biologist. Mom was brilliant. She used to be one of the smartest people in the world.” Mari praised. “There was this one accident that she is now famous for…”

“Pamela Isley? I remember reading about her.” 

“Yeah… She is…”

“Didn’t she create this environment-friendly line of cosmetics?” Chloe asked in her typical fashion

“Yes! I have no idea why everyone remembers her only for the ‘Poison Ivy’ thing!”

“I know, right?” Chloe nodded. “Wait a…”

“Tada!” Mari said weakly before trying to look away, doing everything not to look her friend in the eyes. The blonde gently grabbed her chin and moved it so she could look right into the beautiful green eyes of her best friend.

“Mari! If you think I would abandon you just because your mother took veganism too far… You’re utterly ridiculous!”

Marigold smiled slightly. Slowly, the green receded and her eyes turned back to normal. The dress remained, as without it she would end up naked and she didn’t fancy trying to explain to anyone that. 

She then turned to the plants and tried to order them to return to normal, only for them to resist. For a moment, her mind started to feel fogged, but it didn’t hold at all now. 

“As much as I like the scenery, maybe we stop the plantpocalypse?”

“Um… Remember how I told you I wasn’t akumatized?”

“Yeah?”

“I think the plants are…”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Chloe shouted. “Listen here Hawkmoth! Get this Akuma the heck away! I don’t care about some fancy Jewels that will totally clash with your suit! I mean purple and white with red earrings? Are you colorblind?”

There was no visible reaction to the plants. 

“Strange…” Marigold ran her hand over the plants. “They still respond, just refuse to yield.” Inside, Mari cursed that she couldn’t consult Tikki.

“So… Want some cookies?” Chloe asked. “We just have to wait for Ladybug to save the day. At least the damage will be repaired.”

‘Except Ladybug it trapped here…’

Suddenly, something small and black slipped through the vines and entered their small peaceful enclave. It zoomed between items on the balcony, trying to avoid being seen. It would’ve been successful if Chloe didn’t know about Kwamis. 

“What was that!?” She shouted pointing at Plagg’s hiding place.

“What? I didn’t see anything!” Mari tried to lie. It was the one skill she never had. She did compensate for it by never getting caught.

“A Kwami! I’m sure I’ve seen one.” 

“Kwami? Who’s Kwami? Is that some bird? How would a bird get here? I mean we are trapped in…”

“Ugh! I don’t have time for games!” Plagg suddenly floated before the pair. “Chat is trapped and can’t help without revealing himself. Paris is being destroyed mindlessly and nobody can do anything as the vines are harder than steel.” The cat summarized. “And I’m hungry. Give me cheese!” He looked at Chloe. “Camembert would be the best, but I’m not that picky.”

“Why come to us? Ladybug took away my miraculous.” The blonde asked. 

“I didn’t come to you. I came to her.” The god pointed at Mari. 

“Me?! Why? It’s not like…”

“We don’t have time for charades guardian! The Akuma is out of control! Literally! Hawkmoth’s connection was somehow severed and now you have a giant plant that knows only the rage. This is serious!”

Mari wanted to protest or try to save some of her identity, but then Tikki floated out of her purse.

“Oh no! Marinette! He is right! We have a huge problem.”

“Why?” The girl asked resigned.

“You’re Ladybug!” Chloe shouted but was subsequently ignored

“Hawkmoth must’ve akumatized the plant, hoping to control you, but he had no idea it was sentient. But it stopped being sentient the moment you let it go. I… It never happened before.”

“You’re Ladybug!!!” Chloe shouted so loud that everyone had to look at her. 

“We can talk later. Now we need to somehow deal with the plants. Maybe… No. What about… But they are too tough… What if…” Marigold started to run through various scenarios and plans. 

“Can’t you just order them to expel the Akuma?” Plagg asked bored.

“It… It might work.” Mari had a focused expression. In her head, she was running through all her knowledge of biology, miraculous magic, and how her mom’s powers worked. Hesitantly, she walked to the edge of the cocoon and called the main vine to her. The wall spread slightly and allowed the tip of it to enter. Mari touched it and started gently caressing it. 

“you’re a good boy. Yeah! Who’s a good boy? You’re. Yes! You’re a good boy. But Good Boys don’t have Akuma. Do you want to be a good boy? Of course, you do…” 

Chloe stood there and watched how Marigold kept talking to the plant like it was a puppy. She felt something fall into her hand. Opening the palm, she saw two earrings.

“I… I can’t!” She protested, but Plagg floated before her eyes.

“She can’t do it. If Akuma escapes, we will have plantmagedon on a larger scale.”

“Fine. Spots on!”

Just as Mari finally talked the plant into expelling the Akuma, Chloe caught it. 

“Bye Bye Little Butterfly!” She released the pure white bug. “Lucky charm!” Chloe shouted. A red and black folder fell into her hands. She looked at it curiously. Inside, she found a complete set of adoption papers for her father to sign. She quickly pulled out the sheets and tossed the folder itself, releasing a swarm of ladybugs that repaired Paris to how it was before plants. The sheet stayed. 

Transformation dropped after that and Chloe handed the jewel back to the true owner.

“You still have sooo much explaining to do!” 

Nobody remembered about Adrien and Kagami being carried together to safety, which turned out to be Mari’s basement. And while Ladybug Cure should’ve restored them to where they were taken from, for some unknown reason they remained locked there until Mari returned late into the evening to spend the last night at the bakery. It would be some time until Tikki admitted that it was an act of revenge on Plagg for revealing her chosen’s identity. He had to go the whole day without cheese. The one good thing that came from it was that Kagami and Adrien had a long frank talk and ended up as friends. The relationship just wasn’t working.

----------

When Mari was adopted by the Mayor, she decided to keep using the Dupain-Cheng name at least for now. At first, Chloe’s father was against it, but once the girl presented it as a way of getting good press of mayor who personally looks after his citizens he practically ripped the papers to sign them. Although on paper he was the adopter, Chloe was the real parent/sister that took care of Mari. Lila seethed and spitted, but couldn’t really do much more. Adrien and Chloe roped Jagged Stone and Penny into Marinette Protection Squad. Luka and Kagami, who somehow hooked up, also joined. At some point, Mari entrusted Luka and Kagami with permanent Miraculous and Gave Chloe the Bee miraculous back. Some Fox illusion of Chloe publically applauding new heroine helped hide her identity. The hardest part was revealing to Chat, Viperion, and Ryuko her true identity. Adrien was a big surprise, but at least they finally dealt with their crushes once and for all. The fact that they were in love square in two people was way too awkward. Chloe and Mari did notice Adrien sometimes looking at Luka, but he was happy with Kagami. The only person that disproved of ‘Lukagami’ was Kagami’s mother, but she warmed up to him when he accepted the challenge to a duel and was completely pacified when she learned that Luka is apprenticing under Jagged Stone. 

Jagged and Penny wanted to Adopt Mari, but ended up filling the role of uncle and aunt. After some time, Mari realized that she rebuilt what she once had in Gotham. These people might not have been her family by blood, but it mattered little. That family might’ve been damaged, maybe even broken, but they were happy together. They found solace in one another. Once more, Marinette was happy. 

Until a trip to Gotham came knocking on the front doors.

NEXT

[destielharlequinchallenge]

The Destiel Harlequin Challenge Master Post: 2020 Mega Bang

Participants in the 2020 Destiel Harlequin Challenge completed an amazing 20 fics and 3 sets of artwork! You can learn all about those here!

Spectre (fic by a_dusky_gold, art by aceriee)

This whole thing… this was supposed to be a fucking farce. A way to keep Nicholas Vaught occupied until the deadline he’d given Dean would run out, and he’d still get the money to send Dad to the Town Hall rehabilitation for alcoholism, because that was the goddamned deal.

There were no such things as ghosts or magic or a Book of Life. Dean knows, okay? He wasn’t the Army’s goddamned Mystery Raider for nothin’; he knows history, he knows artifacts, and he knows that the Book of Life is an ancient myth that is about as real as werewolves or vampires.

And yet.

“The Book of Life,” the man had said. Dean can’t even remember his name.

Shit, shit, shit.

Dangerous Ground by Amethystaris

Special Agents for the Department of Diplomatic Security, Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester have been partners and best friends for three years, but everything changed the night Cas admitted the truth about his feelings for Dean. And when Cas was shot a few hours later, Dean felt his reluctance to get involved was vindicated.

Can a camping trip in the High Sierras save their partnership?

Honour Undressed by andimeantittosting

Among his friends, Castiel, Lord Milton is everyone’s confidant and, along with his trusted valet, the fixer of problems. But there is one secret Castiel has never shared: he is in love with his valet and has been for years.

Born in the gutters, Dean Winchester was assigned as Castiel’s batman in the war, and when Castiel travelled home to take up his title, Dean followed him as his valet. To assist Castiel, Dean is not above a little burglary or blackmail. But the one thing he wants for himself is Castiel’s heart.

When Castiel’s closest friends become the target of a blackmailer, certain truths come out. But while Dean determines to seduce Castiel, Castiel is adamant that he must resist, for if there is one rule a gentleman must follow, it is never to dally with his servant.

Havenport by BlueMasquerade

Castiel cleared space on his desk by the expedience of sweeping the previous contents to the side. He set the bundle down in the center of the surface and studied the knots in the rope before expertly untying them.

The book was old, its leather bindings cracked and crumbling. He carefully opened the cover to reveal the pages within, each hand cut, the edges beautifully deckled, the text written in pen and ink.

“This is written in ancient Enochian.” Castiel looked up, gaze narrowed. “Where did you obtain a book written in ancient Enochian?”

“Is that what it is? All I could tell is that it sure as hell isn’t English.” Mr. Winchester grinned, a dimple flashing in his cheek.

an aching in my heart by contemplativepancakes

When Dean’s best friend dies, leaving behind her daughter, Dean knows he has what it takes to give Claire the life she deserves. The problem is, they’re not related by blood, and Claire’s long lost uncle gets called to take her in. Castiel Novak was bad news when he was in highschool with Dean, and judging by his blue hair and tattoo sleeves, nothing’s changed. Castiel ran out on his family once before, and there’s no way Dean’s going to let that happen to Claire without putting up a fight.

Fools and Fate by Danica_Dust

Castiel Novak fled his coven to escape the rigid, predetermined Fate laid out for him within its confines. Desperate and alone, he took shelter in the city of Sacriloga, forsaking all magic and living off whatever he could steal. There, witches like Cas are hunted. They are feared. And they are burned.

When Jack, a young witch also on the run from his own coven, seeks out Cas’ aid, however, Cas finds that he cannot reject the boy, leaving him to his sure destruction. Especially after the newest visitor to Sacriloga makes his presence known: the legendary Hunter, Dean Winchester, who has been following Jack’s trail.

Sworn to the Men of Letters, Hunters live by one principle: thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. Dean’s path was never meant to cross with Cas', but a desperate stunt and a single mistake forces them into an impossible union—holy matrimony.

The war between the witches and the Men of Letters is an ancient one and Cas' most dangerous enemies bring a Fate worse than fire. Unable to ignore his growing feelings, yet powerless to change what he is, a choice must be made.

A suffocating Fate on one hand. A precarious freedom on the other. And in between, the kind of love that makes fools of us all.

Ozone by Deancebra

A young magic user who wants desperately to live. A jaded recluse who has forgotten what living means. They’re each other’s only chance.

Dean’s wild magic is killing him. The mage guilds have given up on him, and it’s only a matter of time before he dies in a spectacular, catastrophic bang. His only hope is an exiled wizard who lives in seclusion—and is rumored to have lost his mind.

The years alone on his hilltop estate have not been good for Castiel Novak. After the magical accident that disfigured him and nearly destroyed the village, he drifts through his days, a wraith trapped in memories and depression. Until a stricken young man collapses on his driveway, one who claims Castiel is his last chance. For the first time in fifteen years, Castiel must make a choice—leave this wild mage to his fate or take him in and try to teach him, which may kill them both. The old Castiel, brash and commanding, wouldn’t have hesitated. Castiel the exile isn’t sure he can find the energy to try.

A Demon Like Him by EllenOfOz

Dean Winchester doesn’t want to be a warlock. The idea of working in a lab, channeling demonic magic into enchanted batteries is not what he wants to do with his life, but it’s a dangerous opinion to have—his father was a powerful and well-connected warlock, and Dean is expected to follow the family tradition.

His only way out is to fail the demon summoning class—failure means expulsion from the Warlock College. Despite Dean’s best efforts to fumble the summoning, it works. Although not the way anyone expects.

Dean’s demon, Castiel, is an incubus, but also a powerful mage on a mission to rebalance the magic that is being stripped from Demonside by warlocks.

Dean must choose: fail out of his final exam and turn his back on becoming a warlock, or help Castiel and graduate. But he doesn’t count on how hot the incubus is, or how close they have become in just a few days.

A Working Relationship by fangirlingtodeath513

The homes that Castiel Novak designs for Angelic Houses are to die for. They’re pristine, perfectly designed and organized, and they’ve caused more than a few bidding wars. It’s the perfect job—he’s organized, good with math, and he’s able to pick up on design trends relatively quickly. The only thing that isn’t perfect? His obnoxious older brother, Luke. Castiel’s been vying for a position on a flipping team for years now, but Luke has never even considered it. When a lecherous gossip reporter overhears an argument, they receive an offer they can’t refuse.

They’re invited to compete on Flip Off, a competition where two people flip houses and compete for the highest profit. Castiel wants the leverage a win would bring him, but he also wants to prove himself. Enter Dean Winchester, a contractor with his own team and one that’s blissfully unconnected to Angelic Houses, allowing Castiel to prove himself without any help from the family company.

The undeniable attraction between them certainly doesn’t help matters, but Castiel is resolute in his decision to make a move only after they’ve finished working together. At least, that had been his plan until Dean made him an offer he simply couldn’t refuse.

Crashing In by followyourenergy

Castiel Novak is convinced he’s the last unwillingly single person in Lupine Cove. Even Gabriel, his perpetual bachelor brother, has found love. It’s probably because Cas leads the most boring life in existence. He’s a gay man living in a rented, one-room cottage in the same small coastal town he grew up in, just getting by as the owner of the same convenience store he was practically raised in. The most excitement he gets is chatting with the locals or maybe, if he’s unlucky, oversleeping and rushing to work. So when a baby is left at the Safe Haven drop-off at the local fire station, he takes the opportunity to step in for the child temporarily, at least until suitable parents, plural, can be found.

Life certainly gets more interesting.

And it gets even more interesting when a handsome man comes crashing—literally—into his life.

Make Me Believe by GhoulsnHalos

Ten years ago, Castiel Novak’s stepfather disowned him, taking from him his place as hereditary heir to the head of the Hunter and Warrior Guild. Now, he’s a self-made, and celebrated, master gem and metal smith. Castiel doesn’t believe that the God’s decide your soulmate. Until he designs what can only be a gift fit for his soul mate, who in contradiction to the etiquette, if not the laws of Neffroen, must be a man.

Dean Winchester is convinced that he is a lowly, dumbass, no magic hunter who couldn’t possibly be on the same social scale as a Novak. So, why is it when he spots the jewelled torc in Castiel’s shop, Dean develops an obsession over the neckpiece and its creator? It can't be anything to do with the will of the Gods, no matter what anyone says, because that's baloney and Dean's not into men.

When Castiel’s long-lost brother turns up and suggests he ought to challenge their stepfather and that Dean is destined to help Castiel rule the clan, Castiel takes some convincing. The real problem is Dean. Can Castiel with the help of family and friends convince Dean of his place by Castiel’s side? Can Dean play the part everyone expects of him to help Castiel regain his rightful place in society?

Shielded Heart by JuniperJones

Arthos, the Infinite City, is a place of alien wonders and indescribable beauty—and, most importantly for Dean, it’s also halfway across the universe from his abusive ex-fiancé. He came to the city desperate for a fresh start, but he finds himself downtrodden on a world of aloof alien beings with little hope of finding his place—and a good chance of being kidnapped or killed before he can even settle in.

At least until he is saved by an irresistible alien with piercing eyes and a seductive smile.

Castiel is the living embodiment of temptation, and he makes no effort to disguise his desire for Dean. But when his past threatens to drag Dean into a dangerous underworld, Dean discovers Castiel isn’t who he claims to be. After enduring so much suffering, can Dean bear to take a leap of faith with this mysterious alien? Can he trust Castiel with not only his life, but his heart?

Stumble and Fall by Kitmistry

Castiel was raised to do one thing: serve his country, whether that was fighting a war or becoming an expert spy. But when his lover is charged with treason and executed Castiel defects. He has evidence that can destroy the KGB’s entire spy ring in New Mexico, he has names of scientists involved with atomic weapons who send information to the Soviets, and he won’t stop until he has revenge.

Putting all his trust in the Americans, Castiel finds himself under the protection of U.S. Marshal Dean Winchester, who is too cocky and attractive for his own good, but at least seems to know what he’s doing.

When a routine transfer to a safehouse goes horribly wrong, Castiel and Dean narrowly escape with their lives. With the Marshals compromised and Castiel being framed for murder, he and Dean are on the run from KGB and law enforcement alike. They have no one to trust except each other, and nowhere to go that their enemies can’t reach.

The Shots We Don’t Take by MandalaRose

Still nursing the tatters of a broken heart and trying desperately to stave off the terror of his impending graduation, college senior Cas Novak decides it’s time to blow off a little steam. Not just any hook-up will do, however. The last thing Cas needs right now is a distraction. On the lookout for someone he can enjoy a steamy night of passion with before leaving them behind entirely, Cas thinks he’s found exactly what he needs in cocky university hockey star and well-known playboy Dean Winchester.

Dean is gorgeous, doesn’t date, and is the singular most infuriating person Cas has ever met. He’s the perfect one night stand...that is, until Dean decides he wants an instant replay of what was supposed to be a one-time event. Will Cas’ offer of friends, sans benefits, convince the arrogant love ’em and leave ’em hockey defenseman to find an easier score? Or will Dean wear down Cas’ defenses and lure the sexy nerd in the dorky trenchcoat back to his bed?

Bullets Over the Bayou (fic by mattzerella_sticks, art by dontbelasagnax)

Everyone wants Castiel Novak to quit the force, including Castiel. But he stays on despite the toxic work environment he’s surrounded by. Still believing he can do some good despite the many lines of red tape impeding him. Luckily, a pair of scissors by the name of Dean Winchester drops into his hands, and he finally feels like he can do some good.

Dean Winchester thought he would be in New Orleans for a day or two. Identify the body of his deadbeat father and then move on. No one knows he’s here. His mother and brother are blissfully unaware of the danger his father roped him into. With a parting gift of a journal, delivered to him the same day he received word about his father, Dean has become the target of a group of people who want him dead. The same people who killed his father.

Racing against the clock, can Dean and Castiel figure out what is so important about John Winchester’s journal that someone would kill for it?

Masquerade by noxsoulmate

It had begun as such a good plan; one that benefitted them both. And masquerading as Castiel Krushnic's boyfriend during the weeks of balls, galas, and charity events certainly was no hardship. With the impending end of their arrangement, though, Dean Winchester must admit that behind the mask of an aloof CEO lies a man he could fall in love with. Or maybe, he already has…

The Medium by raths_kitten

Detective Dean Winchester hates it when his Chief sends a medium to consult on his cases. But this time, the murder is closely linked to Castiel’s world and they both need to work together to solve it.

Any Semblance of Touch (fic by saltnhalo, art by c-kaeru)

1925, New York.

Dean Winchester’s life’s work is protecting the world from the supernatural relics that could destroy it. When an amulet with the power to control the tides is shipped to New York, he must intercept it before it can be used to devastating effects. This time, in order to succeed, he needs a powerful psychometric… and the only one available has sworn off the magical world altogether.

Castiel Novak’s gift comes with great risk. To protect himself, he’s become a recluse, redirecting his magic into museum research. But with the city’s fate hanging in the balance, and faced with the power of Dean’s charm and persuasion…

He can’t force himself to say no.

The Love of a Righteous Man by SargentMom573

Five years ago, Captain Dean Winchester defied his father, Senator John Winchester. With his brother Sam, and his spaceship Impala, Dean found his place among a ragtag fleet of pirates and smugglers. Their latest mission left him with a price on his head and a scar on his heart. When a surprise attack separated him from Sam and revealed a Sith weapon, he would do whatever it took to bring his brother back – even sacrifice his own happiness.

After Emperor Michael’s death broke the psychic link between them, Emperor’s Hand Castiel Novak spent years drowning his sorrows at the bottom of a barrel. Mostly sober, three years ago he found a new purpose as the Impala’s Chief Medical Officer, and Sam Winchester’s guide in the Force. And a good friend in the Impala’s gruff but kind Captain.

Dean and Castiel must work together to bring Sam home alive. But when Castiel’s last mission is exposed, will Castiel complete it and destroy any hopes Dean had for a family? Will Dean forgive Cas’ horrific purpose before it is too late? And give them both what they really want — the love of a righteous man.

SKID by spnsmile

Dean Winchester swore off love after getting dumped and fired from his job the same day. Badly drunk, he ended up balcony-hopping until a pair of hands snatched him inside a darkened room. But it's no hero, it's someone with deep voice whispering threats with a gun pointed at his back. Dean’s too drunk to deal with life but one good look at his hot assailant plus enough beer sold him to his accursed fate. The next morning, he found himself engaged to the most notorious leader of a powerful clan, Castiel Novak.

Married life in the compound for a month was not as blissful so when he could, Dean fought for that freedom. Castiel relented and as Dean tried to put the pieces of his normal life together, getting a bike messenger job and dealing with pain in the ass clients, he now also needs to deal with the dangerous presence of his very jealous and very protective husband watching over him.

Is his life ever going to get back to normal?

[homesteadchronicles]

A Cycle of Seals: Writing Excerpt (Princess of Impotence)

After three months of continual debate on whether or not to post this excerpt, my friends convinced me to submit it on-stream tonight. While it imperfectly handles heavy topics I myself am still working through, I hope you see the heart and healing process behind it - and, most importantly, behind Eirys.

You may remember these three from my recent Character Description Challenge! I can never get enough of writing their dynamic, even as their in-canon scenes continue to dwindle through editing. Whomp.

___

Project: A Cycle of Seals Timeline: Pre-Book One Canonical? No Context:

The House of Salvation has long isolated society’s sick. The Godewine twins - Royan and Eirys - visit every dawn and tend to the condemned. While Royan attracts the masses with the supernatural power of his Timekeeper’s Seal, the powerless Eirys attends to one individual: Oeden Sincairn, locked away even from the other infirm. 

Content Warnings: Illness, Isolation, Mentions of Ableism

___

The Yoreword warns of a wickedness more contagious than any sickness, one bestowed upon the lowest amongst them. Eirys has never - paragons forgive her blasphemy - believed that. Illness did not demean one’s internal divinity. Not when the skin-deep sainthood of her fellow nobles could nauseate an angel. Even still, sacrilege guides her away from those surrounding her blessed sibling to instead seek solace with the kingdom’s most corrupted citizen.

With the crowd thoroughly enthralled by Royan’s abilities, Eirys slips outside their thinning scope of notice and down the western hall. While the main chamber had been filled to overflowing with the infirm, naught but a begrudging servant files through the passage here. Those who notice her appearance regard her with the civil disinterest paid to one of their own. Or had they purposely dismissed their princess? Nonsense, she thinks (but does not believe).

Would such insolence not make sense? She is no Shepherd. She bears no Seal. She does not sway the hearts of nobles like Isolde, does not command the arms of soldiers like Sigrid, does not awe the minds of scholars like Ciaran. She is but another stumbling block to the damned’s salvation, a scourge to kiss their scars.

Why must power inhabit those who refuse to wield it well? That question had no answer, or at least not one the spirits deign to supply.

Yet, despite her inherent impotence, one resident still awaits her entrance.

Eirys shuffles down the corridor, around the corner, and up to a room quartered off from the rest. With a knock for courtesy, she slips in without awaiting permission.

Inside, the chamber holds little else other than Oeden, perched at the edge of a bed as unkempt as he. He is dressed, thankfully - not that a medic cares much for modesty - with a tunic hanging loosely off his wiry form. The tension that inhabits his shoulders evacuates whilst registering his visitor’s identity.

You’re safe, she thinks, willing the assurance to reach him. Safe, but not saved.

A flicker of mischief lifts his lips, too weak to raise the bags beneath his eyes. “Abandoning your brother, are we?”

Eirys huffs, indignant fists finding her hips. Even Oeden thought only of Royan! “I do hope that’s not a disappointment.”

He does not answer, and so Eirys sets to work. Oeden needs attention - medically, at least - every day before sunrise, lest their superiors deny him access to the sanctuary. If coming here every morning means her friend can escape isolation? Well, it made her wartime training worthwhile. Her bag unpacked, the bedside table stands littered with supplies of every shape and size: needles and knives and salves that would unnerve even hardened warriors.

Oeden refuses to flinch.

“You should have seen them,” Eirys says as she rifles through her satchel for a binding beneath the draughts. “All those patients, pawing at his Seal like it might peel off if they rub it right. They were two fools short of a parade!”

Oeden cannot see it, can see little else beside this room, and instead snorts from imagination alone. “With Royan there, they only need one more.”

She swats him with the wad of bandages in hand but cannot hold back her laughter. How tragic that such wit must stay locked away. “At least someone pays him any mind.”

“Ironic, isn’t it? His only admirers come from ones the rest of the world admonishes.” The laugh that follows lacks all humor.

There is a sickness in Norire. One that spares the poor and spoils the pure. One whose unholy hand reaches across the nation, fingers of infirmity digging into every manse and mansion. Even her own. Eirys knows this, intrinsically. Hates it, irrefutably. But, like every other illness, she cannot cure it. Not anymore than she might will away the wickedness of kings who condone quarantining the chronic, the heresy of priests enslaving the impoverished, the sinfulness of princesses submitting to these societal normalities.

Instead, she sits down. Shuts up. Prays behind sealed lips to an imprisoned god for forgiveness, for change.

Oeden never minds the silence. His proclaimed disdain for company disproved itself with every unspoken show of appreciation. This time, it crumbled beneath a subtle repositioning atop the bed: an invitation for intimacy.

Eirys accepts his summons, scooting closer, the equipment her plus one. A once-over of his body shows no sign of his condition having spread, but she can tell little with the glove that disguises his limb. Her hand hovers above, but does not touch. “May I…?”

Oeden nods. Neither required consent – thus why she elicits it. No one asked Oeden permission to burden him with this power, any more than they had asked Eirys to deprive her of it. He deserves this small dignity.

With measured tenderness, Eirys peels back the fabric encasing his left arm. Each inch of cloth stripped away reveals the crystalline protrusions carving through calloused skin in misshapen patches. Flesh split in bloodied fissures, ore corroding the body into its personal deposit. No worse than before, she thinks. The thought does little to placate her concerns because that does not make it better than before either.

Oeden evades her gaze. Witnessing her displeasure would surely confirm a deep-whispered suspicion: that he was, even to her, grotesque. She knows that he spies her reaction when he thinks her attention lies elsewhere, awaits a well-deserved grimace or an artificial grin. Instead, Eirys freezes her face in cold indifference. It comes naturally, she realizes - her family has done the same on the throne for one hundred years, after all, for far less noble a purpose.

She pulls a rag from the pouch at her hip and dips it into one of the pungent balms scattered about the bed top. The whiff of peppermint briefly assaults her before the musty scent of Salvation overpowers it. “Ready?” she asks. His nodded ascent initiates the delicate process of cleaning the crystal. Eirys traces the edges of fractured skin with her cloth as if she painted a masterpiece - with precision, and with respect to the canvas.

Oeden winces with each misplaced press of fabric. He never complains, but none could deny the pain he endures on the nightly. The momentary sting ebbs away at the gritted teeth and tensing posture until relief resumes its rightful mantle upon him. Eirys has never seen such strength from someone so weary. Weary, she realizes, and lonely.

He needs tending to. In his body, yes, but even more so in his soul.

“It’s not, you know,” Oeden says suddenly. He still refuses to meet her eyes, but he picks up on her confusion nonetheless, for he continues, “a disappointment, I mean. That you’re here.”

Had he dwelt on her greeting this whole time?

Eirys slips her free hand into Oeden’s, clasping it with desperate compassion. You deserve deliverance, but I can only give you decency. “I’d sure hope not,” she teases, “but we both know you’d prefer my brother’s company.”

“Royan would have only worsened this,” Oeden reminds her. The Seal of Progression could do little to cease the spread of crystal. It could only comfort those who conformed to its whims - and Oeden had never been one to obey. “Besides, who knows what I would have seen, had anyone else done this…”

Ah, yes. The visions.

Eirys understands next to nothing of them, despite her supposed spirituality, but she does not doubt their existence any more than she doubts that their god remains trapped in some undiscovered vault. One touch of crystallized skin could send Oeden into an unconscious stupor. Foreseeing an unfortunate future from unprompted contact became an all-too-common occurrence.

“And with me?” Eirys entangles their fingers, drawing his hands up. “What do you see?”

Oeden’s breath hitches as she scales the goosebumps raising across his arm, but he does not deny her. His left hand rises to meet her, ore-crusted finger brushing against a freckled forehead. A breath. A moment. A hope.

“…Nothing.”

Oeden exhales like oxygen had always evaded him. His head slumps against hers. “Thank the Seals you’re safe, Eir.”

You’re safe for me, is what he means. She hopes he knows he’s safe with her, too.

They sit there, undone and unsure, in each other’s presence until time unwinds itself around them and Eirys realizes: the military, the clergy, the royalty - none of them need her. None of them need to. Oeden does. And a flustered, wistful part of herself believes she needs him too.

She always loathed her own powerlessness, but this powerlessness to resist him? She could live with that. She might even love it.

[foxys-fantasy-tales]

Happy storyteller Saturday! Hope you're doing well. What is your favorite villain and hero from your writing? Favorite hero and villain to see interact?

Oh boy. This is a tough one! Happy to think about it though. Hmmm. I'd have to say my favorite overall hero in ALL my writing is Rilea. She's my DnD OC, but I've also written quite a few chapters on her and am planning to adjust her for an Arigale 'in the future' series after this one concludes and I work on some other projects. Rilea is a very fun character for me to write and play. She was raised in an overbearing church with an absent goddess mother and locked away from the public. She really has the whole gilded caged bird theme going on. Probably got a lot of her inspiration from Rapunzel, but while she shares her curiosity and desire to see the world, Rilea is much more level-headed and cautious, but also downright vicious when the chips are down. (I swear I have trouble not writing a battle ready heroine.) She's stoic and closed off in her little world, all the while having dreams of the end of the world and longing to stop it, but feeling powerless. A passerby (love interest) helps her learn her first spell and that sets her on a path to eventually escaping her bindings and trying to make something of herself on her own. My favorite all time villain is probably Yani (mold man as you like to call him haha. Death daddy to my number one beta.) He has a very interesting backstory only the beta mentioned above and my husband know about. He's so manipulative and gross with such a fancy but also crumbling and decrepit theme. He's awesome and so much fun whenever he is on screen. His dialogue is some of my favorite to write. My favorite hero and villain interaction is with Aka and Varin, who are in book two of my Arigale series. Aka is a lot like Rilea in terms of character, but deep down more shy and peaceful. Aka doesn't want to fight, but she feels she has a duty to. Varin is the villain she is opposed to at first. They had a relationship at one point long ago, but it ended up being a ruse to get close to her and take advantage of her heart to get into the town she lived in. Getting close to her in partiular was needed, since she had something he wanted badly, but then after a year as he tries to take it they come to blows and this big cycle begins I don't want to spoil too much on. Let's say they are very friends to lovers to enemies to something or other. Lol

[rhysismydaddy]

365 Days Epilogue (Feysand)

Because @hizqueen4life asked me to. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

______________________________________________________________

Day 365, 7:42 PM

~Rhysand~

Rhysand was in his office, looking at reports from one of his casinos downtown when his phone rang with a text. 

Feyre Asterra: When are you coming home? 

He grinned and texted back Soon. 

He’d been planning the night for a while and wanted it to be special. It was their first anniversary, and he couldn’t wait to finish what he was doing and go home to his wife. Apparently, she couldn’t either. 

Feyre Asterra: Not good enough. 

Before he could analyze that, a loud thud came from the hallway outside his office. Which was strange, because he’d cleared the building over an hour ago to work alone. 

A gun was in his hand instantly, and he prowled toward the door, wondering who was trying to die tonight. He ripped it open, then leaned out to glance down the hallway. Empty. 

He cocked the gun and went off in the direction he’d heard the noise come from. Only to whirl around as he heard almost-silent footsteps behind him. 

It was too late though, because something hard connected with the back of his head and darkness swept in to claim him before he could fire a shot. 

~

When he woke up, his hands were tied above his head and his eyes were covered with a thick blindfold. He was on a surprisingly comfortable seat, but the comfort was minimal, seeing as his legs were bound, too. 

He tugged on the ropes holding his wrists and ankles, unsurprised to find them not at all loose enough to get out of. 

Shit. 

Rhysand had no doubt someone would find him, but this was bound to be unpleasant in the meantime. It was probably someone he’d wronged in the past or a rival gang leader trying to take out the competition. Either way, pain was inevitable. 

He’d hold out for as long as he could and pray Cassian or Azriel would find him before the worst happened. 

He heard footsteps walk up to him, his muscles tensing in preparation for the blow. 

It never came. 

Instead, he felt someone drop onto his lap, thighs straddling his waist. His eyebrows shot up behind the blindfold and his mouth dropped open as Feyre leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Happy anniversary, Rhysand.”

~Feyre~

The look of pure shock on his face had to be the highlight of her life. 

It took him at least a minute to compose himself, then he demanded, “You fucking knocked me out?”

She shook her head even though he couldn’t see it. “No, that was probably Cassian.” A sigh escaped her. “I told him to be careful.”

“Hold on. You had my best friend kidnap me from my own office?”

He sounded a little incredulous, even though that was obviously what had happened. “No, I had your best friends kidnap you from your own office. Azriel was involved, too.”

Rhysand’s jaw tightened. “I’m going to kill them. Take the blindfold off.”

“No.”

She was suddenly very, very glad he was tied up. “Ferye, I swear, whatever you’re doing, it’s the opposite of romantic. When I get out-”

“Oh, I beg to differ. You seemed to think it was pretty funny a year ago when you had the same two idiots kidnap me.” She put her hands on his shoulders, and he opened his mouth to respond. 

Then the plane started to move, and his entire body went tense. “What the hell is going on?”

She had to work to repress a giggle. Her husband really hated not knowing what was going on, apparently. How shocking. 

“We’re going on a honeymoon. Someone never took me on one, so I asked the pilot to take us somewhere special.”

He paused his complaining to consider that. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

“This is absolutely ridiculous. It’s my plane.” He shook his arms again. “Let me out of these.”

“It’s our plane, actually. And no.”

To keep him from complaining more, she leaned forward and kissed him. He opened his mouth, so she swept her tongue in, loving how in control she was. 

His arms pulled again at the ropes, and she grinned. “I’m not letting you loose yet. And I’m not telling you where we’re going. You’re completely at my mercy.” She kissed him again softly. “Might as well get used to the idea.”

Her husband’s jaw was still set, but he didn’t look mad anymore. Feyre knew it would be difficult for a man like him to give up control. That’s why she hadn’t given him a choice. 

Plus, she’d never payed him back for having his friends kidnap her from her bed all those months ago. 

Besides, she was enjoying herself. And if he bulge pressing against her thigh was any indication, so was he. 

So she pressed herself against him and kissed up his neck, stopping to tug on his ear. 

The plane was going faster now, and as they started lifting off into the air, she reached in between them and palmed him through his slacks. 

“Feyre.” His voice was rough with lust, but it still sounded like a warning. 

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked, hand still on him. 

He shook his head immediately. “No, but I want my fucking hands free.”

She made a humming sound, faking consideration. “Not yet.”

Feyre knew the second she united him, she’d be the one on her back, begging him for...

What a wonderful idea. 

She unbuttoned his pants, then slipped her hand inside. “I mean, I’ll stop if you want me to.”

His body was tight, jaw clenched tightly. “Don’t stop.”

Smiling, she kissed him deeply, then pulled her dress up on her thighs. “Give me control, Rhys. You know you want to.”

He was trying to move his hips, but his binds made it impossible. After a few minutes of trying, he gave up and stilled. “Fine.”

Feyre smiled as the leader of the mob, and an undeniable alpha male, finally admitted he was powerless. She kissed him softly, then positioned him against her. 

“Beg me,” she demanded sweetly, holding herself right above him. 

He growled, and she knew there’d be hell to pay when she untied him. But she didn’t exactly care at the moment, because from between clenched teeth, he murmured, “Please.”

She sank down, and both of them groaned. Their lips collided as she started to move, and it was such a rush to have him like this she almost came.

It wasn’t like she’d never been on top before, but it was different for him to be the one begging. Normally, he drove her half insane before claiming her, and it was sugary sweet to finally do the same to him. 

The plane continued to soar as they moved together, faster and faster. 

Rhysand threw his head back against the seat, and she licked the column of his throat, making him groan. “Fuck, baby.”

Bracing her hands on the wall behind them to get better leverage, she kissed him wildly, both of them suddenly desperate. 

She felt release start to build up in her and knew she was close. As her legs started to tremble, she leaned down and murmured in his ear, “Come with me, Rhysand.”

Both of them moaned, and she smiled as she kept moving until both of them were a boneless pile of limbs.

Then she pulled the blindfold off, smiling down at him victoriously. 

“Devious woman,” he murmured, violet eyes full of amusement, even though he was still tied up. “I had a whole romantic evening planned, and you go and kidnap me.”

“My plan was better.”

She could tell that if his hands were free, he’d be shrugging. “Maybe so. Will you untie me now? Please?”

Feyre grinned at that word, then reached to grab the knife Cassian had given her for her birthday. “Um, don’t move.”

“Oh, God.” Her husband looked nervously at the knife, then pressed his eyes shut. 

Careful not to cut him, she cut his his hands free, then leaned down to do the same for ankles. After turning his wrists a few times, his hands settled on her hips. “Where are we going?”

Now that he was free, she knew he’d get the information out of her one way or another, so she gave in. “Paris.”

He nodded, leaning back to study her face. “How long have you been planning this?”

“Three weeks, but I only involved Cassian and Azriel yesterday. Cass can’t keep his fat mouth shut around you for more than twenty-four hours.”

Rhysand laughed, knowing how well it was true. Then he leaned to press a kiss on her neck, just below her jaw. “You know, kidnapping is a felony.”

She was aware, considering she’d graduated from law school three months ago. But she still asked in a playful tone, “Really?”

“You might have to bribe me with some insane arrangement so I don’t report you to the police.” 

That devious twinkle in his eyes made it impossible not to grin back. “Like what?”

He shrugged, hands sliding across her hips to her backside. “A year of marriage might do the trick.”

Even though their marriage had started with such a bargain, it had grown into so much more. So she repeated the exact thing she’d said to him a year ago. “So my options are to go to jail and become a disgrace to my family, or marry a mobster?”

“Pretty much.”

Feyre leaned down to kiss him, murmuring, “I guess you have a deal, then.”

He smiled against her lips. “Happy anniversary, wife.”

“Happy anniversary.”

______________________________________________________________

I didn’t keep the tag list, so I just copied it from part 3. Sorry if it doesn’t work!

@rapunzel @bamchickawowow @wesupremeginger @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @hizqueen4life @exciting @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @sleeping-and-books @negativenesta @burritowithfeels @sis-it-dont-add-up @mockingjayusa @aelin-is-my-heart @awesomelena555 @thekeytohappiness-is-you @a-bit-of-a-cactus @aesthetics-11 @keshavomit @b00kworm

[darquedeath4444]

Naruto Fantasy Week - Day 1 - Soul Bonds

For @naruto-fantasy-week

Day 1: Soul Bonds

Pairing: SasuSaku (ish)

Sasuke sells his soul to a spirit as a kid and grows up to regret it (he says he does, but Sakura claims otherwise)

----

Magic was a blessing from the spirits. He who was blessed by a creature of the spirit realm could tap into their own magic cores, something that was usually inaccessible. 

Those who could use magic were simply superior to those who could not, and in the world of nobility, not being a recipient of a spirit blessing brought shame to the family name.

That was the first thing Sasuke ever learnt.

His brother, Itachi, received his blessing when he was still a child. Their father had been so proud, and any attention he might have spared Sasuke in between praising his already prodigal older son, simply vanished. His mother noticed how upset that made him and showered him with affection, but it simply wasn't enough.

Itachi was perfect. He was smart and good looking, skilled with both the sword and with words.

In comparison, Sasuke felt like nothing, was nothing.

The books Itachi read made absolutely no sense to him, and he was told the training his brother underwent was too difficult for him. He often found himself alone in their garden, scared. His mother reassured him otherwise, but Sasuke could feel his family moving away from him because he was useless useless useless-

“Why’re you crying?”

Sasuke looked up. A girl stood a little away from him, eyes wide and curious. 

He had never seen her before.

“How did you get in here?” He asked. “Are you a servant?”

“Ser-what?” The girl huffed. “No, how rude. And besides, I asked you a question first.”

Sasuke was taken back by the strong rebuttal. “So-sorry.” 

The girl smiled. “So, why are you crying?”

“I-I just-” He swallowed. “My brother’s amazing. He was seven when he was blessed by the spirits. My father’s always telling me how good he is. I’m never good enough. I can’t do anything the way he can.”

“How...fascinating.”

Sasuke glared up at the girl, already feeling tears welling up again. His vision was blurry, but he could make out the bright pink of the girl’s hair. “Did you come here to laugh at me?” That was all everyone did. He was old enough to know that 

The girl crouched down in front of him. She reached out and gently wiped at his tears with her fingers. “No, silly, I came here because you were crying. Humans cry because they are upset, no?”

Sasuke hiccuped. He watched the girl slowly raise her hand to her mouth and lick his tears off her fingertips. “Do you want people to look at you?”

“Huh?”

The girl cupped his cheeks with her heads. “There is a certain fear in your eyes, boy, fear that threatens to consume your soul. What are you so scared of? Do you fear abandonment? Do you want them to turn your way? Do you want your father to acknowledge you? Your mother to love you, not out of pity, but because she really does? Your brother to accept you as an equal?”

Young Sasuke knew not of the truths behind the luring words. All he heard was a promise of everything he had ever wanted.

“Yes,” he murmured. 

The girl smiled. “Then accept the exchange, boy,” she said. “Half of my soul, for half of yours.”

“My soul?”

“A promise, a binding, an oath, a soul bond. Accept it, and I will give you the sword with which you can cut down everything that holds you back. You will never be left behind, never be cast aside. You will never be alone again.”

Because the boy was desperate-

Because the girl was fascinated-

they made an oath, and thus, their souls were bound for life 

----

“If you’d told me I’d literally be stuck with you for life, even young, foolish me would have had enough sense to decline your offer.”

“Young, foolish you were told it was a soul bond,” Sakura said. “If anything, that made you even more eager.” The girl floated over him, just out of his swipe range, and peered at him. “If you’d told me how utterly uncute you’d become, I might have reconsidered myself.”

“Regardless, you sure made your promises much more grandiose than they turned out to be.” Sasuke scoffed and walked right past. Sakura let out a sound of complaint and landed behind him before hurrying after him. 

“Hey! Rude! Sas-”

The spirit abruptly cut herself off and Sasuke turned towards her in worry, just in time to see her dematerialize in a puff of smoke. He felt for their link and noted that she was still around, most probably just right there, just now out of human sight. 

“Sasuke!” 

The Uchiha froze, then cursed himself for acknowledging his own name. With a sigh, he waited for the splattering of footsteps to catch up to him, willing himself to not show his annoyance on his face as some unknown girl hurried to catch up to him.                                 

“Can I help you?”

A girl he did not recognize skidded to a halt beside him. “Hi!”

Even in the prestigious Academy for the Magically Blessed, Sasuke’s looks and his family name drew a lot of attention. Sakura found his annoyance amusing, if anything, and he cursed the spirit in his head for leaving him to face her alone. 

The girl did not seem to notice his discomfort as she latched onto his arm. “Sorry, I was wondering if you’d like to-”

“Hands off, human.”

A chill ran up his spine and he felt a cold finger land on the back of his neck. It slowly made its way up, and the hand buried itself in his hair seconds later. Sakura leaned over his head, green eyes glowing. Cherry blossom petals flew around them, floating out of her sleeves and from beneath the hem of her clothes. He could feel her nails, now claws, sink shallowly into his shoulder as she looped her arms around him. “This one belongs to me, girl. You should beware where you place those grabby hands of yours, lest something much more merciless than I rip them off.”

Sakura completed her threat with a sneer, all killing intent and sharp teeth. Karin let out a gasp and quickly retreated a few steps. Sasuke did not bother telling her that if Sakura was serious, three steps would not be enough to put her outside of the pinkette's reach. 

“I am in a hurry,” Sasuke said, unapologetically. “Excuse me.”

Sakura’s display had caught the attention of all those in the courtyard. No one else bothered him as he swiftly made his way through the corridor and back to his dorm room. 

Once out of sight, Sakura let go of him. “So, where are you going?” “What?”

“You told Karin you were in a hurry.” 

“I lied.”

Sakura laughed. Sasuke stifled a smirk and allowed her to loop her arm through his. He made his way back towards his dorm room, dragging her with him. Hopefully, no one would be bothering him there.

Once they arrived, he made sure to lock his door. His friends had the tendency to try and make themselves at home in his room, and he was honestly not in the mood to entertain. Sakura let go of his arm to float over to his bed and Sasuke rolled his eyes, then moved to his desk.

Sakura did a slow spin as she rearranged his pillows to her liking. "So...a thank you would be appreciated." She hissed when one of the pillows toppled from its place on her fort.

Sasuke wordlessly leaned over to pick it up as he pretended to consider this. "...Thank you."

Sakura smiled and took the pillow back from him. She planted it back in place, then plopped down onto it with a satisfied sigh. She closed her eyes. "Any time," she said softly.

Sasuke stayed focused on his textbook until Sakura’s breathing had slowed and he was sure she was asleep before he dared a peek in her direction. 

He didn’t know what Sakura had seen in him that day, back when he had been a powerless child who could do nothing but cry. 

Perhaps she had pitied him; despite how she enjoyed annoying him, she was a gentle, kind girl. Maybe she had seen him crying and had been too young, just as he had been, to know another way to stop his tears. 

Regardless, she was his just as he was hers. The magic that now flowed within him, the flames that flared to life at his fingertips, was proof of their bound souls, and he would have it no other way.

Naruto Fantasy Week Master List

[nicka-nell]

Friend with the enemy - Chapter 3: An unfortunate reunion

Chapter 2 - Smile for me     |     Masterlist    | Chapter 4 - You belong to me

Chapter: 3/4 | Oikawa x reader

Words: 2.194 

Warning: angst, mention of blood

Your trembling voice is still loud in his ears. Your trembling body is right in front of his eyes. But it gets smaller and smaller until it finally disappears completely. Like petrified he still stands at this point where he has grasped at your wrist. “Oikawa, is everything all right, sweetie?” Bring him back the voice of the woman who destroyed everything. No... He had destroyed everything, and he has now become aware of it. “I’m not your sweetie.” he just hisses. “What? What’s wrong with you?” she asks him sadly. “Listen, Naomi, I made a mistake... It has nothing to do with you, but that kiss just shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry if you got your hopes up but I have no feelings for you. Please let me through. I want to go to my apartment... alone.” He answers seriously, and before he can get past her, she runs away and calls him what an idiot he is. “Yes, an idiot...” he sighs sadly and opens the door. Powerless, he sinks to the ground. With one arm on his knee he looks to the ceiling. He thought he wasn’t sure that he had feelings for you. He didn’t want to bind himself to you, and at the end he found out that you don’t fit together. He knew exactly he was going to lose you not just as a girlfriend, but as a friend. He thought if he went out with another woman, maybe he could forget his feelings for you and at least keep you as a friend. But all day long, all he had to think about was you. Naomi began to laugh, and he immediately had to think of your laughter, how beautiful it was. No matter what she told him, he always had to think of you and your angelic voice. In front of his apartment he wanted to kiss her to finally get you out of his heart, but he only had to think of you when kissing her, and then he heard your voice... To see you so sad and disappointed, his heart was torn to pieces. Hearing from your mouth not Tooru but Oikawa brought up a painful feeling in him. Hesitantly he pulls out his cell phone and looks at his display with a painful face. As his background, he has a photo of you. You wanted to meet together in the park, but Oikawa was a little longer at practice and had written to you that he was coming later. Since you just got out of school, you had taken a reading out of your pocket that you are treating in English. When Oikawa arrived in the park, he saw you sitting on a bench under a cherry tree. Your hair was blown backwards by the wind, and completely absorbed and focused you had read a book. He couldn’t help but take a picture of you. You looked so peaceful and unbelievably breathtaking to him at that moment. He could have looked at you like that for hours. Now he pinches his eyes and bites his lower lip. “Shit....” he hisses desperately and a tear runs down his cheek. He breathes deeply and then chooses a number that he called far too often when he had problems. “Oikawa? Have you looked at the clock? I want to sleep, you idiot!” The voice from the other line growls into Oikawas ear. “Oikawa?” the voice now asks a little more calmly. “Iwa-chan... I made a pretty big mistake...” Oikawa sighs sadly. “Ah? Did you forget to study for the test tomorrow...? I’m not helping you anymore! I want to sleep.” Iwaizumi responds, but Oikawa sighs again. “You’re right, I’m sorry if I woke you.” he quietly returns, but then he hears Iwaizumis voice. “What's up? You got a minute.”, “Listen Iwa-chan... Can you remember the manager of Shiratorizawa?” Again, it’s all quiet. “Yes of course. She’s a real sight for sore eyes." Iwaizumi laughs embarrassed. “Yeah, that’s her... and how can I say that... We met, and she asked me if I could imagine a relationship with her.” With his last words he swallows and does not know exactly how to continue talking. “Yeah, but... This is a good thing.”, “Yes, no, so... I was afraid of breaking up our friendship if we didn’t fit together. I thought... When I meet someone else... another woman... then my feelings for her disappear and I could at least keep her as a buddy or something. Well... Anyway, in the end, it was like I kissed that Naomi from our stage and (y/n) saw it. She doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore...." his voice sounds almost fragile. “You got what, huh? You’re such an idiot, Oikawa!” Iwaizumi shouts at him. “I know that myself! You better tell me what to do... I... I can’t think clearly... I know I fucking made a mistake but... damn it!” With his words he notices how his voice gives in more and more, and he starts to cry like a little child. “Oikawa?” a little unsettled Iwaizumi calls for him, but he does not answer. “Oikawa?” again no answer. “I’ll be right with you..." All night long, Iwaizumi tries to calm Oikawa down. In vain. - “Here you have your water bottles.” You say as you approach Semi and Tendou. They thank you joyfully and you return their thanks with a smile. “Oh look! Here come the guys from Aobajohsai!” Tendou suddenly calls and looks past you. Right... Today you have another training match against Aobajohsai. It’s been two weeks since you tried to forget Oikawa. You haven’t talked to him or seen him for two weeks. He didn’t write to you either. Looks like he’s forgotten you faster than you have. Because you used to sit in the living room with Ushijima and throw yourself in his arms in silence and were crying. He still doesn’t know that Oikawa is the one who hurt you so much. “(y/n)? Is everything all right?” Ushijimas voice brings you back to reality. “Hm? Yes...” you answered him a little lost in your thoughts. Your opponents are entering the gym and welcoming you all. You all also warmly welcomes them. All this time, you try not to pay attention to Oikawa. Not looking him in the eye. But when the game starts, you can’t help looking at him. Only now do you realize how bad he actually looks. Anything but rested. Dark circles make his beautiful chestnut-brown eyes look colorless and dull. Not only has his appearance changed. But he also seems different. He is not really at the game and blames all his fellow players for his own mistakes. He shouts at everyone, and he is irritated at the slightest question. Iwaizumi tries to calm him down again and again and tells him to concentrate on the game. However, he does not really succeed. You win the first set and in the second you are on the verge of winning it too. All you need is one more point, and Ushijima will make a massive quick attack. But the ball does not hit the ground. The ball hits Oikawa with a loud bang exactly to the temple and his body sinks without tension to the ground. Iwaizumi wants to catch him, however, he does not make it in time and Oikawas head already hits the bench in front of him. Now he's lying bleeding on the ground. A loud humming is heard in your ears. You see people running in slow motion and their lips moving, but no sounds come out of them. In shock, you get up from your bench and without knowing it, you scream for Oikawa. Your legs are moving and you want to walk to the motionless body that is bleeding heavily on the head as Ushijimas strong arms hold you back. “It's nothing for your eyes, (y/n).” He tries to explain as calmly as possible. Their coach has already called the emergency doctor and it does not take long until he comes to the hall and takes Oikawa with him. Iwaizumi also leaves the hall and accompanies the emergency doctors to the hospital. You still stand there with shaky legs, completely dissolved and are only held up by Ushijimas strong arms. You may have won the game, but nobody can really be happy right now. “Come... I’ll drive you to the hospital.” Ushijimas voice will bring you back. A barely visible nod is enough for him to walk with you towards the exit. He says goodbye to everyone with a nod and goes out with you. Arriving in his car, you’re still looking out the window. “I didn’t know Oikawa was your acquaintance, who made you so sad...” Ushijima says calmly, but continues to look at the street in front of him. “How... do you know it’s Tooru?” You ask, still looking out the window. “Your sad face already gave me a clue when I told you the Aobajohsai team would be here soon. And your reaction to his accident confirmed my theory." He replies in a calm voice. Of course, he knew... After all, it’s Ushijima. He can read you like an open book. “Hm... He should come to Shiratorizawa... Not only because he can play me the balls, he could also watch you for hours.” Ushijima grins and tries to cheer you up with his words. “Well... I don’t think he’d be watching me for hours. After all, he kissed another woman a short time after I told him that I could imagine more than just friendship." You sigh with a cool undertone and now look at Ushijima, who looks at you with big eyes. A hesitant “Oh...” slips away, and he thinks about what to say to you. “Maybe it was a misunderstanding... Maybe you should talk to him...?" Wondering about his own words, he looks at you brooding as he stops at a red light. “I don’t want a man to hurt you. I want you to be happy... And I’ll do everything I can to make sure Oikawa doesn’t hurt you again. But you won’t get over him if you don’t deal with this problem with him. Obviously, you still have feelings for him. So you should confront him. Let him explain everything to you and then you can still think about what’s best for you. But I promise you, I won’t let him near you unless you want him to." His voice is full of power, but not loud. "Thank you, Wakatoshi." You answered him with a smile. “We are there. Go in, I’ll wait for you down here.” Now he also smiles and you get out of his car. At the hospital, you are about to see a doctor when Iwaizumi meets you. He tells you that everything is fine and that Oikawa only had a slight concussion and a laceration that was stitched. Relieved, you thank him for the information and ask him if he can give you Oikawas room number. Without hesitation, he gives you these and tells you how to get there. Just as you’re leaving, he calls for you again. “Wait! Listen... Oikawa really screwed up. I don’t want to talk about what he did, either, but he’s been in really bad shape these past few weeks. Did you fucking see him today? He looked like fucking hell. Please talk to him again... I think you’re the only one who can still get through to him." Thoughtfully he looks into your eyes. “See you (l/n)." He adds and walks out of the hospital with his hands in his pockets. Arriving in Oikawas hospital room, you see that he is still sleeping deeply and firmly. Quietly you sit down on a vacant spot from the bed and look at him. He looks really terrible... Without realizing it, you reach for his hand and hold it subconsciously in your hands. Sadly, you look at him as you feel his hand squeezing your hand. You look at him and notice how he slowly opens his eyes and looks at you for a moment. He quickly lowers his head and turns it aside. “You of all people have to see me like this... What are you even doing here?" he moans coldly. You let go of his hand and your chest is tightening up again. “I’m here because... everyone was worried about you. Nothing more. Now that you’re okay, I can go back." You lie and get up from his bed. “Wait!" he calls after you. “Can... can we talk?” He looks at you with a desperate look. “When you are out of the hospital...” you answer a little sad because you’re afraid of this conversation. Without turning to him again, you leave the room and go home with Ushijima.

[mahometchristian]

Dear Friends,

 Our gospel lesson for this Sunday morning describes Jesus' response to the horrific news that John the Baptist had been arrested (Mark 1:14, 1:29-39). John was arrested and later executed because he insisted that the governor was not above the law.

 How did Jesus respond to the distressing news that John was arrested?

 Jesus responded by healing the sick, casting out demons and praying. He told his disciples that he was going to continue what he was sent to do: to announce by words and deed that the kingdom of God was coming near and everyone should believe this good news!

 In other words, Jesus remained optimistic in spite of the bad news and Jesus did not despair.

 Both of our historic congregations, First Christian Bertram and Mahomet Christian have suffered extraordinary loss and change. First Christian Bertram voted to close and an arsonist burned down the Mahomet church facility.

 But rather than being overwhelmed with loss and despair, we are called to follow Jesus and continue to believe and proclaim the good news that the Kingdom of God is drawing near.

 The Bertram congregation voted to give the proceeds all church assets to build a chapel at the Christian Camp in Gonzales. The Mahomet congregation is actively exploring ways to re-gather and move ahead.

 During this time of transition, I will share meditations and prayers by email and online at www.mahometchristian.net. Should you wish to receive an occasional email with meditations and prayers please send me your email address. Our email address is MahometTX@gmail.com.

 One driving force that lead to the execution of Jesus was his call for unity. Many people in the first century fueled divisions and various types of segregation, abuse and violence. Jesus called his followers to welcome all people into loving fellowship and that sacred call remains our task today in our deeply divided society.

 Here is a prayer so appropriate for our times:

 O God,

you created all people in your image.

We thank you for the astonishing variety

of races and cultures in this world.

Enrich our lives by ever-widening circles of friendship,

and show us your presence in those who differ most from us,

until the knowledge of your love is made perfect

in our love for all of your children,

through your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

(from The Book of Common Worship, Westminster Press, 1993, p. 796)

 Our opportunity is to remain connected and serve as we experience the Good News (Gospel) that God’s Kingdom of peace and love is here and it will grow stronger.

 May God bless and keep you!

 John 

 Texts for February 7, 2020 The Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

First Reading Isaiah 40:21-31 21 Have you not known? Have you not heard? Has it not been told you from the beginning? Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth? 22 It is he who sits above the circle of the earth, and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers; who stretches out the heavens like a curtain, and spreads them like a tent to live in; 23 who brings princes to naught, and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing. 24 Scarcely are they planted, scarcely sown, scarcely has their stem taken root in the earth, when he blows upon them, and they wither, and the tempest carries them off like stubble. 25 To whom then will you compare me, or who is my equal? says the Holy One. 26 Lift up your eyes on high and see: Who created these? He who brings out their host and numbers them, calling them all by name; because he is great in strength, mighty in power, not one is missing. 27 Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel, “My way is hidden from the LORD, and my right is disregarded by my God”? 28 Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. 29 He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless. 30 Even youths will faint and be weary,

and the young will fall exhausted; 31 but those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.

Psalm 147:1-11, 20c 1 Praise the Lord! How good it is to sing praises to our God; for he is gracious, and a song of praise is fitting. 2 The Lord builds up Jerusalem; he gathers the outcasts of Israel. 3 He heals the brokenhearted, and binds up their wounds. 4 He determines the number of the stars; he gives to all of them their names. 5 Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure. 6 The Lord lifts up the downtrodden; he casts the wicked to the ground. 7 Sing to the Lord with thanksgiving; make melody to our God on the lyre. 8 He covers the heavens with clouds, prepares rain for the earth, makes grass grow on the hills. 9 He gives to the animals their food, and to the young ravens when they cry. 10 His delight is not in the strength of the horse, nor his pleasure in the speed of a runner; 11 but the Lord takes pleasure in those who fear him, in those who hope in his steadfast love. 20c Praise the Lord!

Second Reading 1 Corinthians 9:16-23 16If I proclaim the gospel, this gives me no ground for boasting, for an obligation is laid on me, and woe to me if I do not proclaim the gospel! 17For if I do this of my own will, I have a reward; but if not of my own will, I am entrusted with a commission. 18What then is my reward? Just this: that in my proclamation I may make the gospel free of charge, so as not to make full use of my rights in the gospel. 19For though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I might win more of them. 20To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so that I might win those under the law. 21To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law) so that I might win those outside the law. 22To the weak I became weak, so that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some. 23I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its blessings

Gospel Mark 1:29-39 29As soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. 30Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. 31He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them. 32That evening, at sundown, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. 33And the whole city was gathered around the door. 34And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.

35In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. 36And Simon and his companions hunted for him.

37When they found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.” 38He answered, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.”

39And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.

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