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yandere-daydreams · 3 years

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Title: Palliate.

Pairing: Yandere!Witch/Reader.

Word Count: 3.7k.

TW: Emotional Manipulation, Amnesia, Obsessive Mindsets, Mentions of Violence, Blood and Bruising, Mentions of Death.

Mint, to settle your nerves.

That was the first thing he’d taught you, before you were strong enough to do anything more than sit on the edge of your bed and listen. Three leaves if you were desperate, two if you weren’t, and one if you just needed something to focus on, to take your mind off your own hazy thoughts and the places they tended to lead, when you let them wander freely. He said that was normal, that it should be expected. You’d spent so long incapacitated, it was only natural you’d be a little unsteady, once you finally got back on your feet. He said that it’d get better, over time, but you’d have to fight through it. You’d have to give yourself time to let it get better, even if there were little things you both could do to help.

The mint helped. Most of the time, at least. More than most little things did.

You tried to concentrate on the flavor, now, letting it distract you from the sun beating down on the back of your neck, from small bruises forming on your knees as you kneeled between rows of rue and sage and rosemary just far enough apart to let you tug at the weeds invading his otherwise pristine garden. It was a little odd to be outside the small cottage you’d become so closely acquainted with, even if you were only a few paces away, still hesitant to venture beyond the clearing you’d spent so much time observing while you were bedridden. You were still injured, technically, and you’d been told time and time again not to test your own limits. He said you should… You were sure you should be doing something, but—

“Didn't I ask you to rest?”

Right. That made sense.

You weren't supposed to get out of bed, just yet.

A hand came to settle on your shoulder, and reflexively, you glanced towards the man now lingering behind you. You really didn’t need to, though. His voice would’ve been enough, a calm drawl strung out into something playful, fondness coming easily and anger still a long ways off. He’d never gotten mad at you before, but the threat persisted. You didn’t want to be more of a nuisance than absolutely necessary, especially after he’d been so kind to you.

“There’s only so much sleep I can take,” You replied. You didn’t want to be a nuisance, but you didn’t want to spend the rest of your life in bed, either. “I’m starting to think that’s your only trick, uh...”

“Eden, love. Just Eden.” There was a pause, his sly smile turning sympathetic. “Is your memory acting up again?”

“It’s not as bad as it used to be.” You were telling the truth. For weeks, you’d barely been able to hold onto your own name, let alone anything about your eternally patient host. But, Eden (you tried to remind yourself of that, to make a note of it, Eden) was kind enough to give you time. You needed time. You needed patience. “I found the door, didn’t I?”

“And it’s nearly been a week since the last time you wandered into the forest,” He noted as he crouched at your side, earning a small, offended noise and an elbow to his bicep, just forceful enough to warrant a hum, a slight pout, something between a whine and a chuckle. You didn’t want to stare, but you let yourself watch as his expression softened, as his gazed flickered towards the sprout of basil at your feet and a shock of white hair fell over his eyes. He looked like he was going to reach towards you, like he was going to touch you, but he stopped himself, letting his hand slip down to the satchel at his waist, instead, calloused fingers running over the well-worn leather.

You wondered what he kept in it, sometimes. You’d never seen him without it, not willingly, and he spent so long in the forest every day, he kept himself so busy with so many traps and snares and spots of ink littered across hand-drawn maps, it would’ve been impossibly to guess what he thought was worth keeping by his side. He brought enough of it back, bundles of assorted feathers and glass jars full of golden pollen and other things, stranger things, things you could barely catch a glimpse of before they were shoved to the backs of cabinets and forgotten about, on your end, at least. Eden didn’t forget about such important things as quickly as you did.

“It’ll get better,” He went on, finally, just when you thought he’d stopped talking altogether. “And, if it doesn’t, we’ll find a way to make it better.”

He sounded so sure of himself. You wanted to believe him, when he sounded like that. You did believe him.

You couldn’t remember a time when you hadn’t.

Ginger, to alleviate migraines.

It wasn’t for you, luckily. Of all the ailments you suffered from, you’d been left mercifully exempt from headaches and vertigo and all those minor, awful things that would make your life just a little harder than it had to be. If anything, your head was always a little too light, a little too empty, especially after so many hours of following the same unpaved road with nothing to think about but the passing scenery and Eden’s vague instructions, little more than a list of names and goods. Little to go off of, despite his insistence that you be the one to go.

You’d asked why he didn’t just go himself the first time he sent you on your way with a basket of herbs and roots, but Eden had only frowned, shaking his head. He said he wasn’t welcome, not in the marketplace, not in a village that’d already come to know him by name. He said that, if you cared for him at all, you wouldn’t subject him to a full day of haggling in hushed tones with women who refuse to sell mediocre incense for anything less than a small fortune.

And since you did (foolishly) care for him, you went. Not that you were anymore wanted in the marketplace than he was.

You hated it, compared to the cozy isolation of Eden’s home. You hated how crowded it was, how alien it felt to have to navigate the cramped stalls, how the merchant in front of you scowled as he weighed small bags of the exotic, colorful spices Eden was so fond of, the ones that you could never seem to taste the way you were supposed to, judgingly by how liberally Eden used them. He didn’t try to hide the disdain in his voice as he spoke, aged weariness mixed with a self-righteous reluctant. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t used to it, that constant trepidation from people who didn't understand you, from people who didn't care for Eden. At least he was kind enough not to hide it. “Running errands for the witch hermit, again?”

“Eden’s not a hermit.” You tried to smile, to brush it off as if was just another misconception. He wasn’t. You weren’t sure what he was, but he liked people, he liked having someone else around. Or, he liked having you around, at least. He didn’t seem to care much about company, beyond that. “He just enjoys his privacy. We both do.”

“Only a witch, then.” There was a pause, a gruff laugh that didn’t match his grim disposition. Something in the back of your throat tightened, and silently, you wished he’d be a bit more wary of you. Just enough to keep him from speaking so openly. “I’d take what you can and go, if I were you. He takes after his father, and that man spent his whole life makin’ a monster of himself, playing with things no one should. His son ain’t much different.”

It was your turn to laugh, now. “He cries whenever he finds fawns separated from their mothers. He takes in tadpoles he finds puddles. I don’t think Eden is capable of cruelty.” He was a kind man. You’d never seen him be anything but kind. If he had an ulterior motive, if he had a single sadistic bone in his body, you had yet to find it. “He took me in, too, when I was injured. He might be the only reason I have a roof over my head, now. That’s not a kindness I can say very many people have showed me.”

His lips pursed, the barest hints of confusion crossing his expression. It was gone in an instant, and you tried not to linger on it. He thought poorly of Eden, but the mere fact that you were alive – walking and breathing and alive – was enough to earn him your gratitude. Regardless of what a merchant and a marketplace worth of gossip thought. You knew what you believed, you knew what was true, and you wouldn’t let a few rumors convince you otherwise.

Although, you’d be lying if you said that belief didn’t waver, as he went on. “Cruelty isn’t all you have to worry about.”

You opened your mouth. Then, you closed it again, keeping your eyes on the basket still hanging limply on your arm. He wasn’t done yet, not with the spices, not with his poorly veiled warnings, but you didn’t want to listen. You could listen, you would listen, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to believe anything you heard in such a crowded place, in such an awful place.

You just wanted to get back to Eden.

Willow bark, to take the pain away.

It’s more of a comfort than a necessity, by now. You used to need it, rely on it, and you still liked to keep a bundle nearby, just in case, for days where the soreness was worse than it should be and you needed something to take the edge off, to suppress that overwhelming ache back into a steady throb. But, you never needed it, not like you used to. Not like you had when your injury was a defining feature rather than an afterthought and Eden’s medical expertise was more of a experimental artform than a practiced skill.

His hands didn’t shake, anymore, as his fingers skirted over your bare skin, following along the outline of your wound, the trail of stitches that stretched from the bottom of your shoulder bone to the center of your rib cage and repeated itself, carrying over again and again and again, forming neat rows of tender flesh and scar tissue that refused to stop any higher than your hip bone. He wasn’t hesitant, not with the needle, not as he pushed it through the long-suffering spots where he’d first messily laid your stitches months ago, and he didn’t have to look at you to recognize the way you shifted, the soft string of expletives you let out, to notice your little attempts to turn your head at just the right angle, flinch at just the right time to—

“Eyes on the ceiling,” He demanded. With a small huff, you obeyed, turning back towards the furthest wall. “It’ll only get worse, if you look.”

You knew that. He’d said as much as thousand times before, once for every day he'd tended to your lasting wounds. You were tempted to try, to insist it was only fair that you got to know what was going on with your own body, but you trusted Eden, and it was easier to tilt your head back than to argue, to search the cluttered room for something more interesting than the boy sitting at your side and your own, nagging discomfort.

You were in his workshop, now, an area separated from the rest of the cottage and filled to the brim with the tools of Eden’s trade – blooming flowers permanently encased in blocks of amber, the shells of insects hollowed out and ground into a fine powder, pots, everywhere, some empty and some not, the largest placed over a smoldering hearth that never seemed to grow dimmer, despite how often Eden forgot to tend to it. There was something inside, a substance you didn’t recognize, bubbling and black as a starless sky. It was already solidifying around the edges of its cauldron, crystallizing into rows of jagged, silvery edges slowly creeping along the coaction's surface like an infection. Like a parasite. Like something that shouldn’t have existed but continued to, regardless.

Eden must’ve caught you staring. The needle stilled, and instead, he took to dabbing something cool and smooth around the edges of your scars. A rag, or a balm, or a dozen other possible remedies. You didn't try to look. “It’s for you,” He explained, as if that made it any better. “One of my father’s incomplete recipes. He never figured out how to stop it from hardening once it’s exposed to open air.” Eden clicked his tongue, pulling the thread he was working with taut, and you cringed, tying to ignore the slight pinch. It didn’t hurt, not really, not like it used to. It didn’t hurt at all, if you were being honest, but it felt like it should’ve. “The color isn’t right, either. And I’ve already fed enough dye into the damn thing to poison a small village.”

You should’ve laughed. You wanted to, you knew it was the reaction he was looking for, but it was all you could do to avert your stare, to let your fingers curl around the edge of the table he’d perched you on. "They really don’t like you.”

“I’ve noticed.” A blunt response, not abrasive, but not encouraging, either. Not as dismissive as you would’ve preferred. “And yet, they manage to stomach my cures regardless. It’s funny how quickly pain softens the heart, isn’t it?”

“They say it’s unnatural.” You were pushing, now. You should know better than to push. You never found out anything good, when you tried to push. “They say your father used to dabble in things that shouldn’t be.”

Eden sighed, pushing himself to his feet. There was a short silence, interrupted only by the sound of glass knocking against glass before he dropped what he was holding, stepping in front of you and cupping your face with both hands, instead, forcing you to face him, to meet his dark eyes. Black eyes. Lightless eyes. A contradiction when compared his tanned skin and warm smile. A contradiction you tried to overlook as he bent down, kissing the top of your head so gently, you could almost bring yourself to ignore it altogether.

“My father was a toymaker and a healer. My mother died in childbirth. He did what he could to take care of me, and there is nothing unnatural about that.” He took a moment to laugh, to hold you, and you couldn’t be help but be thankful for it. Only weeks ago, he’d been afraid to touch you, afraid to watch you break all over again. Now, it was all he could do to let you go long enough for his arms to fall to your waist, for your face to find his chest, his tunic, a place to hide yourself away from the rest of the world. You didn’t want to go back, not to the village, not to the marketplace, not to the lonely, hurtful, desolate world outside his cottage. You didn’t want to go back to a place filled with so many people so determined to separate you from Eden. You didn’t want to return to a life you couldn’t remember, one where you wouldn’t have the man who’d saved you by your side. “He loved his family, just as I love you.”

For once, you didn’t have to convince yourself to believe him.

Witch hazel, to stop the bleeding.

You’d need it. You’d need a lot of it, more than you should for such a small cut, a jagged line drawn from the corner of your eye to your opposite check, thin but deep and bleeding, pouring out, washing over your hands as you tried to clutch at your face and rub away the damage, like a child trying to blink away a bad dream. Your legs might’ve been bleeding, too, the sides of your ankles, the backs of your thighs, your skin scraped raw in all the places you’d hit the ground as you tripped, falling over your own feet at your stumbled backward, but you didn’t check, you didn’t want to check, you didn’t want to see how bad it was. You didn’t want to take your eyes off the man in front of you, his towering stature, his grim expression.

His sword, silver and unsheathed and pointed at your heart, as it had been from the moment he first caught sight of you.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. No one was supposed to be here, in Eden’s forest, only minutes away from the cottage you’d come to think of as your safe haven. He hadn’t asked for your name, he hadn’t mentioned Eden, he hadn’t said a word to you, not before there was a dagger flashing across your line of sight, a weapon quickly discarded for something more intimidating, something that’d let him stay at arm’s length while he approached you, his stare holding yours, his lips pulled into a thin frown. “I—” You tried, but your voice gave out quickly. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had threatened your life. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been so scared. “Please, I didn’t mean to get in your—”

“Stop talking.” His tone was flat, apathetic, the barest hints of rage seeping through a weathered veil of neutrality. Immediately, you fell silent. “Who said you had the right to use that voice?”

You opened your mouth, but you thought better of it, biting down on the inside of your cheek as you bowed your head. You wanted to get back to Eden, back to his cottage. You wanted to be anywhere but here. You wanted to run, but you wanted to get out of this with your head on your shoulders, too. “Are you going to kill me?”

“It will not be a true death.” There was a pause, a reluctant hesitation. You pulled your knees into your chest, your hand still pressed to your wound, but the gesture didn’t seem to earn you any pity. “But, I am going to make this—”

He stopped, abruptly, his head attention towards something behind you. You heard it a moment later – measured footsteps, barely making a sound against the dead leaves and branches that littered the forest floor. You didn’t turn around. You didn’t have to.

Not when there was only one person who’d ever bother to save you.

“Adam,” Eden called, already positioning himself at your side. His hand was already on his satchel, toying with the buckle. Like he’d done this, before. Like he already knew it wouldn’t resolve itself peacefully. “There are easier ways to introduce yourself. If you put that sword away, I’m sure (Y/n) could still find a way to forgive—”

“Do not call it by that name.” He was focused on Eden, now, leaving you to fade into the background, to observe as his hands began to shake and he glared, baring his teeth, as Eden had done more than try to play peacekeeper. “That is not (Y/n). It doesn’t deserve to pretend it is, none of your abominations do. It won't bring— It can't—” He trailed off, his sword falling back to his side, his eyes clenching shut. You almost felt bad for him, your would-be murderer, but Eden’s expression remained cold, unbothered. Slowly, almost idly, he reached down, taking you by the arm and helping you to your feet, letting you tuck yourself against him as Adam finally found his voice.

“(Y/n) is dead. Nothing you do can change that.”

A moment passed in silence, still, deathly, frigid silence.

Then, Eden spoke.

“I can handle this on my own.” He didn’t deny it. He wasn’t denying it. Why wasn’t he denying it? “I need you to brew tea, Chamomile. Gather as much lavender as you can on your way home, until your pockets are full and you can’t carry anymore. Can you do that for me, love?”

You nodded, but you were still shaking, still unsure, still so, so confused. You weren’t dead. You could breathe, and you could think, and you ate and you slept and you weren’t dead. “I’m not.” You didn’t know who you were talking to – Adam, still clutching his sword, still ready to behead whoever his blade could reach or Eden, your Eden, the gentle protector who hadn’t looked at you once since his arrival. You just wanted someone to say it wasn’t true. You just needed someone to say it wasn’t true. “I’m not. I’m alive. I’m not de—”

“I’m in love,” Eden said, his voice soft. As if he hadn’t heard you at all. “Why does everyone act as if that’s so monstrous?”

You didn’t want to hear Adam’s response. You didn’t want to hear anything, not from him, not from Eden, and certainly not from your own frenzied thoughts, racing and only growing louder as you ran, sprinting, stumbling through the forest in any direction your legs would carry you. A crooked sob racked over your chest, and reflexively, you moved to brush away the tears blurring your vision, but you couldn’t feel yourself when you should’ve, it wasn’t flesh that met your cheek. Your eyes darted to your hand, a sneer already playing at your lips for whatever mud or decaying foliage had plastered itself against your skin, but…

But, you found a small trail of crystals, instead, silvery-glass that coated your palm, rows of jagged edges that hadn’t been there before, that shouldn’t have been there, where your blood had stained your skin only minutes ago. Or, where you thought your blood should’ve stained your skin. You hadn’t looked.

You hadn’t looked.

You froze dead in your tracks.

Slowly, our raised a hand to your face, to the cut carved into it, to what should’ve been a bloody, bloody wound. Something jagged met your fingertips, but you ignored the slight sting. It didn’t hurt. Not as much as it should’ve. Not as much as you wanted it to.

By the time you pulled away, your hand was covered with it. Thick, cool, forming webs between your fingers as you spread them apart. Dark. A kind of dark you’d only seen once.

As black as a starless sky.

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fragmentedink-archived · 3 years

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Hell to Pay: Chapter Fifty-Six

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX, XLX, LI, LII, LIII, LIV, LV

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

Biela was in one of the cities of Assyra, helping provide some form of comfort and support to the many grieving families left without their young. The cities of her kingdom were slowly building their way back to their former glory thanks to the war ending, but there was still much, much work to be done.

And she would not rest until it was.

She was still half tempted to take her frustrations out on that angel and his foolish cousin who decided to defy nature in her lands, leaving her people to pay the consequences. But she held back, if only so they could live with what they had done.

Dacia and Caius both were with her to provide as much light and warmth in this time, something she had always lacked the ability to provide. Dacia stood by her side while combing the streets for a period of respite.

“I do hope this haunts them,” Biela said, darkly, letting Dacia link their arms together.

“I am sure it will,” Dacia replied. “Levant and Amara both.”

“Hmph.”

They let silence fall for a bit longer when she felt a tugging at her skirt. She nearly thought it was some mangy animal, but stopped moving when she realized it was a child that was clinging to her skirts, clearly trying to keep herself from tumbling to the ground.

“Who’s child is this?” Biela demanded, looking around.

Dacia was already moving to scooping her up when Biela locked eyes on a violet eyed child that had a hand half reaching for the toddler in Dacia’s arms. She nearly went after them had it not been for their bolting like a rabbit, likely to get as far away from Biela as physically possible.

Of course it ran. Biela never had much luck with children capable of forming their own opinions. They more often than not were best left silent. But for some reason, this particular toddler decided to demand her attention.

Dacia seemed to be looking the child over, checking for cuts or bruises, though she couldn’t find any. She gave Biela a look that had Biela frowning at her. “What.”

“Well, clearly she had a home.”

“Oh really?” Biela asked. “From the looks of it I’d say she was missing a few requirements for that, considering her very dirty skin on top of her very dirty clothes.”

“Well all the more reason to take her with us,” Dacia replied. “Children are dying. We cannot let another fall through the cracks.”

“I suppose,” Biela said, eyeing the child staring right back at her. She squinted.

When the child removed her hand from her mouth, as soaked with slobber as it was, she still reached out for Biela. Biela frowned in distaste. She had been soaked in blood once, but she still was not a fan of fluids from infants. “I will not take you,” Biela retorted to the baby. “But fine, we will bring her with us.”

Biela thought back to the last thing Raziel had said to her the day before. That ‘Congratulations’ stuck out in Biela’s mind and she had half a thought to go wring that old bird’s neck.

She hated seers.

---

Lev was closing the door to Eden's nursery oh so carefully when Ash found him. And by found him, Lev meant Ash smacked the side of his leg with his cane. Lev stifled a yelp, so he didn’t wake Eden, and glared at Ash. It was safe to do so because Ash couldn’t see him.

“Ow,” Lev mumbled, sidestepping another sweep of the cane. “I- can I help you?” He paused, and quickly corrected himself. “Is everything okay?”

“Hm. Pick a new tone,” Ash said, flippantly. “I want you to make yourself useful and take me to Cameron’s library.”

Lev sighed softly, and started walking. “It’s this way,” he said, just to get Ash started. “Though I don’t think he’s got any books in braille.”

“Well lucky for me I’m not going to be the one doing the reading,” Ash replied, following after him.

“Am I-” Lev bit off his questions, and instead said, “It’s up these stairs, and then we’re gonna take a left.”

Ash slowly followed after him, taking one step at a time, clearly not quite used to climbing the stairs without the morsels of eyesight he once had.

Lev quietly narrated the path he took to one of the tables he liked to frequent during the few times he’d had the time to sequester himself away in the library. It was near the very meager collection of fiction Cameron had; most everything else in here seemed to be non-fiction of all sorts.

“I’m sure there’s a system,” Ash said, side stepping the things in his way. “Knowing Cameron it’s bound to be just as elaborate as his many personalities.” At Lev’s confusion Ash sighed. “A catalogue. Something to classify the books to keep them separate by title or genre or subject or something.”

“Oh. Oh. Yeah. There is. Do- do you need me to find you a book?”

“I want you to find every book in Cameron’s library about the gods,” Ash said, leaning against one of the shelves. “You’re going to actually learn something about well, something aside from whatever romance novel you are currently gurgitating.”

“Gurgitating,” Lev mumbled to himself, trying not to sound annoyed. He puffed out a breath, and then, “I’ll see if I can find a few. There’s a table next to you if you want to sit.” Though Ash might prefer to stand, so he could complain about that too.

He could feel Ash’s glare against his back. “I’m coming with you, genius,” Ash said. “How about you knock the attitude off. I can feel your passive aggressive puffiness from here.”

Lev considered that, and then decided honesty was the best policy. “I’m just a little cranky,” he said, and then added, “And so are you. I’m sorry if I’ve been snapping at you, though. Shouldn’t take crankiness out on someone else. Not their fault.”

“Duly noted,” Ash said. “I’ll be sure to pass that along to someone who cares. Now take me to the books.”

Lev led the way, gathering every book Ash told him to, up until his arms started to get tired, and then he very firmly insisted they go back to the table. “I can’t carry any more,” he said, “And I certainly can’t read all of these in one sitting. The rest aren’t going anywhere.”

“That’s fine,” Ash said, taking a few books from him to tuck under his arm. “You won’t be able to retain all of what you need to know if you do that.”

Lev sighed, loud enough for Ash to definitely hear this time, but just settled down at his table, spreading the books out. Ash took the chair across from Lev and had him pull out the first book.

“Do you want me to read out loud?” Lev asked after a moment of staring at the introduction.

“Tell me what you know about the gods,” Ash said. “The angels should have given you a rudimentary understanding of each god in school, but angelic teachings tend… to embellish a little and make Asmi seem more important than the others. Which is not to say they’re not important,” Ash added, hastily. “As they are the god to the angels, but each is important and I want to figure out how much work you’re going to need to understand.”

Lev paused, trying to dig up memories well over a century old. “I knew of Asmi,” Lev confirmed. “And they said that demons split their worship between... Five? Five gods? I think? I know demonic magic is tied to specific gods. I think. Or- there’s a choosing?”

“There is Kaveh, the oldest- twin to Asmi, who is the one who created both the other gods and the demons. Demons were pulled from the earth as angels were the stars. Kaveh’s magic is one of the most powerful, bestowed as they are the oldest god in the pantheon,” Ash said. “They rule magic such as telepathy and forms of telekinesis and other mental based magics.”

Ash took a breath. “Asmi, as Kaveh’s twin, was born at the same time. It was just them alone in the universe, right? Asmi created the angels so of course they would become the patron to all angels. As they are tied to the natural balance, all our abilities come from nature.”

“Third,” Ash said, “Is Mizra. Mizra is the seer. Knows all that is, was and all that could be. They’re known for being relatively… prickly, I guess. Just like Kaveh, but a different flavor. Next is Ruya. Ruya is the god of echos and reigns over the illusion workers. And lastly is Basim who rules over empathy based magics. Anything having to do with the emotional spectrum. Each god has access to the rawest magic, but only demons can access the designated power that each god rules over.” He paused, took another breath and leaned back. “Does any of that make sense?”

Lev blinked several times. “I...” he trailed off. “That was a lot. But.. I think so?” Even though Ash couldn’t see, Lev ticked them off on his fingers, “Kaveh is the oldest, and rules mental magics. Asmi is balance, Mizra is the Sight, Ruya is echoes and illusions. And- Um. Bas- Basim is empaths?”

“Yes,” Ash said, satisfied. “They’re each patron to a particular person they find interesting, so a person can have two gods bugging them, but only hold power for one, if that makes sense? They might just… be a little more enhanced. Kaveh: the cunning and resourceful; Asmi: the natural order and witches; Mizra: survivors; Ruya: the wild and unchained, and Basim: patron to the merciful.”

“I... I think so?” Lev said hesitantly. “Does everyone have a god who is their patron? Or only specific people?”

Ash rose a shoulder. “I think it’s just certain people that the gods have taken a liking to. I haven’t read anything about every single demon having a patron on top of their god.”

Lev nodded slowly. “Okay,” he said out loud after a moment. “I think that makes sense.” He tapped his thumb on the book, and then asked thoughtfully, “Do gods favor bloodlines? I never really paid much attention to if demons’ magic was genetic or not...”

“I do think sometimes it’s through bloodlines, unless a god has deliberately chosen the child. Their magic usually comes in around five to seven years old; just like an angel’s,” Ash said. “The gods wait to see what the child will grow into and go from there.”

“That makes sense,” Lev mumbled, more to himself than anything, and then said, “So there’s no real way to know what kind of magic Eden will have, then?”

“Not until she’s close to five, no.”

Lev gave a small hum. “Does Asmi ever choose demons?” He asked, just out of sheer curiosity.

“If they find a liking to a person, sure,” Ash said. “They’ll most likely bless that bloodline. Isn’t Sorin a demon with fire magic anyways? Also, Asmi likely is responsible for the few powerful bloodlines of demonic healers. They’re very rare, just like elemental demonic users.”

Lev gave a few blinks. “I didn’t-” He thought again. “Right. Fax’s cousin.” After another awkward pause, he added, “I forgot. Fax had fire magic too. He just so rarely used it. Mostly to light his cigarettes or the fireplace.”

Ash looked vaguely disapproving with the mention of cigarettes, but said nothing about it. “Sazra’s bloodline is most likely one blessed by Asmi. She’s one of the very few demonic healers I have met. And she’s a very strong one at that. Probably why she was in this house for so long. Demons were never very kind to their healers- always enslaved them.”

Oh. Lev looked down. “I’m guessing she wouldn’t want my pity,” he said slowly.

“Probably not,” Ash said. “But back to what I was saying. Power and magic are tied to the gods and the gods are tied to us. Sometimes even the gods walk among the people, though Asmi is somewhat trapped in their realm whereas the other gods are not.” Ash grimaced. “Instead they get to use me as their mouthpiece.”

“They’re trapped?” Lev asked, his concern getting dragged away from Sazra. “That sounds awful.”

“Less trapped and more they don’t have a physical form,” Ash admitted. “If they want company from us mere mortals they are very capable of yanking us to them.”

“Oh,” Lev said, considering that. “Do they do that often?”

“I’m not sure with other people besides me,” Ash said, “but they sure do like my company. Maybe a little too much.”

“I’m sorry,” Lev said honestly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“It’s fine,” Ash said. “I’ll manage.”

Lev frowned, but Ash couldn’t see. He tapped the book with his thumb. “Do the gods talk directly to their followers often? Like when... when Asmi spoke to me, before I came back? Or did they only do so because I was... partly dead.”

“I think… they were curious and infuriated. Not many people show up on the gods' radar. When they do, they take notice.”

Lev nodded. “So they don’t visit people often. And that’s true for all the gods?”

Ash lifted a shoulder. “From what I’ve seen, yeah. Maybe us mere mortals aren’t all that interesting in the grand scheme of things, though I’m sure they do find our little lives absolutely hilarious sometimes.”

“Ah,” Lev said, rubbing his face. “I suppose bastardizing nature would put me on their radar,” he sighed.

“And now we don’t have magic,” Ash said, sardonically. “I’m sure we’ll be hearing from Asmi soon.”

---

Cameron was seated in the chair while Darius napped. He had been working on the backed up paperwork from the last several days. He had a solid chunk of paperwork from both the club and further Obsidian Court workings when there was a feather light knock on the door.

He bit back his irritable sigh and looked up to see one of the sentries standing stiffly in the doorway. Cameron flicked Darius a look, to make sure he was still sleeping before fixing his attention on the sentry. “What do you want?”

“There’s an angel here,” they said.

“I am aware there are several angels here,” Cameron said, crossly. “Be more specific.”

“Raziel,” he rushed out. “Um, she said her name was Raziel.”

Oh brilliant. “And what does that overcooked chicken want?” Cameron said, flatly. “Lev is unable to speak with his family for the next several decades.”

“She’s here for you, sir.”

“You can tell Raziel to fly her carcass back to her roost,” Cameron said, turning his focus back to his work, dismissing the sentry to do his bidding.

Cameron had but a few moments of peace before the sentry returned, looking rather ashened. “I’m afraid she was rather insistent, sir.”

Cameron sighed sharply out of his nose and got to his feet. The sentry stiffened slightly as Cameron walked past him, ordering him to not take his eyes off Darius while Cameron dealt with the ancient angel.

“And to what do I owe this displeasure,” Cameron said, eyeing Raziel, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Mizra sent me,” Raziel said, irritatingly calm as always. “So unfortunately, I am not able to leave until I’ve passed their message along.”

Cameron’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I haven’t been to a temple in well over five hundred years.” In fact, he had never stepped foot inside one to begin with. “Why would they bother themselves with my presence now?”

“Both kingdoms are healing,” Raziel said. “And they’re tired of waiting for you to come to them. I’m sure if I hadn’t reached out to them for my own reasons they would have found another way to reach out to you and demand you listen.”

Cameron fixed his jaw. “We’ll speak in my office,” he said, walking past her.

Raziel followed him, staying a good three paces behind him until they reached the office. She even settled in the chair without prompting, hooking one knee over the other.

Cameron took his place behind his desk and leaned back. He eyed her for a few seconds, trying to figure the best approach to handle both Mizra and Raziel. “I have not participated in the Rite,” Cameron said, evenly. “I am not able to, so I do not have any connections with Mizra.”

Every demon born had their god and had their own coming of age where they cemented their connection to their god. Every demon, legitimate or not, was supposed to form the connections with their god in order to fully claim their abilities. Cameron never had, his mother had forbade it, so his magic was barely a whisper of anything- calling it a magic felt like too grand of a word. He had never spoken to a priestess, of any god. Cameron had no Rite to claim.

Raziel didn’t even blink. “Then complete it. Before Mizra starts meddling more personally.”

“I do not have the time,” Cameron said. “And I am now much too old. Have been for well over five hundred years.”

“Make time. Your god demands it.” She flicked her fingers at him. “Your household doesn’t need a second god looking at it with ire. Nothing I remember of the Rite says you can’t complete it later in life.” Her silver eyes tracked his every minute move. “I’m sure you’re not the only one with subpar parents.”

“I suggest you do not speak ill of my parents,” Cameron said, flippantly. “They’re my problem and they’re also dead. No need for you to make judgements that do not pertain to you. Besides, the Rite is a demonic passage. Perhaps you should keep to your own lane in that matter. I will make time, but it will have to wait.” Cameron rubbed his temples, alleviating the growing pressure. “As I said, I am busy.”

“I did not mean offense,” Raziel said mildly. “I spoke only of what Mizra told me. And on top of what they’ve said of your parents, ill or otherwise, they have insisted you speak to them.”

“What part of ‘I am busy’ seems to get lost in your decrepit mind?” Cameron snapped.

It was then that Cameron felt himself be… pulled somewhere; he and Raziel both. Cameron went very still when a very pale… being was standing in front of him. Mizra, he presumed, with their pale skin and white hair, almost a similar likeness to himself. They looked less than pleased to drag him here into their realm. “When I request you,” they said, coolly. “I do not mean to be put off for something you consider more important. There is nothing more important than I, do you understand me?”

“My apologies,” Cameron said. “I did not mean any disrespect.”

Mizra’s eyes narrowed. “There is not an ounce of respect in your frail little body, Cameron Luain.”

“Mizra,” Raziel said. “It would make pulling us here rather pointless if you lose your temper now.” And then she smiled at the god.

Mizra fixed their mouth into a thin line. “Your mother,” they said, turning back to face Cameron, “defied my wishes when she decided to keep you from me in attempt to keep you powerless.” Cold washed down Cameron’s skin. “She is now rotting in the ground and no longer an obstacle, therefore, I am very kindly requesting you have the Rite performed.”

Cameron flicked Raziel a glance before tightly folding his arms over his chest. “I suppose I will make the time,” he bit out, bowing his head slightly.

He could feel their very smug faint smile directed his way. “Very good,” they said. “It seems when I told Raziel to fix you, I had not accounted for how foolishly bullheaded you male creatures are.”

“Thank you for your assistance,” Raziel interjected. “I apologize I was not able to successfully pass along your message on my own.”

Mizra frowned at her. “Yes, I do suppose you did fail in your one task, Raziel. I had expected far better from someone I had blessed.”

“I suppose I’m out of practice,” Raziel replied. “I’ll do better next time.” If Cameron didn’t know better he’d say Raziel’s silver eyes, so eerily similar to Mizra’s, crinkled with affection at the god.

“As you should,” Mizra said, primly. “Failure is unacceptable and I would so hate to find someone else to keep me company. Most of you mortals are rather boring.”

Cameron was rapidly growing all the more irritable with these too ancient beings and found the phantom pain in his head to be growing steadily behind his eye.

Mizra cut their focus to Cameron. “And while I have you here,” they said, “I expect you to start eating something. You’re too thin and disgusting. You need to eat more.”

Cameron stared blankly at the god. “You want me to eat more?” he echoed.

Why would a god care about his eating habits?

“Oh please,” Mizra huffed, “I do detest repeating myself.”

“I could always check in on him,” Raziel offered.

Cameron cut her a withering glare. The last thing he needed was Raziel to babysit him. “Last I checked,” Cameron said, “you were barred from Lev’s presence.”

Mizra waved a dismissive hand. “You make it sound like I care what your little king wants,” Mizra said. “Raziel will do my bidding and hold your hand if need be.”

Cameron felt rage boil under his skin, but promptly kept his mouth shut.

“I highly doubt I’ll need to go that far,” Raziel said, amused.

“Was there anything else you required of me,” Cameron bit out.

“Oh very well, very well,” Mizra said, “If you’re going to act like a child I will send you back. Raziel, I will speak to you soon.”

With that, Cameron felt himself be dropped into his body.

Raziel looked annoyingly unruffled. “So I’ll see you next week?” She said lightly.

Cameron got to his feet and leaned over his desk. “Get the hell out of my house right now,” he snapped. “If you are not off of my property in the next five minutes I will not be so pleasant. Get out now.”

Raziel lifted a single brow, but stood gracefully. “I’ll let you know before I come over next time,” she said on her way out. “Do not make Mizra wait much longer. They have much less patience than I.”

Cameron let the door shut behind her before he nearly collapsed in his chair. He grabbed his head, tight, hoping to alleviate the pressure building, but it did very little.

---

Nik woke from his nap, still angry and irritable. The last twenty-four hours had not done much for his temper so he had taken a nap. And that did not help either. He wandered the house and found a rather beautiful man in the bedroom, sitting up in the bed. “Well you must be Darius,” Nik said, crossly.

The man gave him a rather mild smile and nodded.

Nik’s eyes narrowed. “So are you crippled and can’t talk or are you being annoying on purpose.” When Darius didn’t say anything, because of course he didn’t, Nik said, “Right, whatever. So I guess you’re Cameron’s boyfriend or something? And you were dead, so why didn’t you stay dead? Nevermind, that’s stupid. I guess if you were going to defy nature, you might as well do it for Cameron.”

Darius cocked his head and reached for a pad of paper only to scribble a ‘It’s nice to meet you, Nik.’

“Oh please,” Nik said, “I’m being a dickhead to you. You don’t need to lie to me.”

‘I’m not lying,’ Darius wrote. ‘I’m rather used to crass language when people are upset.”

“I’m being crass?” Nik demanded. “I think you being alive is rather inconvenient for me since everyone in this damned house knows who the hell you are besides me.”

‘I apologize for Cameron not telling you,’ Darius said. ‘It was all rather sudden. I do hope we can be friends, Nik.’

Nik rolled his eyes. “Do I look like someone who has friends?”

‘Ash and Amara seem rather fond of you,’ Darius observed.

Nik rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, Ash and Amara make bad choices daily, so I wouldn’t hold either of them to a high standard. Case in point: bringing people back from the dead and killing a million kids, but hey, what do I know?”

And now he’s in the line of fire.

Sympathy shone in Darius’ eyes and it took tremendous effort to not wipe that infuriating look off his face. “Stop looking at me like that,” he snapped. “I’m not Cameron and I’m sure as hell not Lev. Puppy eyes don’t work on me.”

‘Well, I’m actually a cat.’

“Oh great,” Nik said. “You’re a cat.”

Darius gave him a dry, feline smile. ‘Not a fan of cats?’

“Not this particular one.”

‘If it helps,’ Darius wrote. ‘Cameron loathes cats as well.”

“Well he clearly likes you,” Nik said, frowning. “If you claw up my clothes, I’ll cut your hair off.”

‘Well, I will make a note to leave your clothes alone,’ Darius replied.

“I think you enjoy mocking me,” Nik said. “You get to waltz in and drop into my relationship because Cameron killed you or something. I’m sure the whole thing was very traumatic.”

That was the moment Lev chose to poke his head in. His brows furrowed in his usual expression of worry, and he was quick to cross the room. Nik folded his arms as he watched Lev kiss Darius on the cheek.

Traitor.

Lev was just as quick to tuck himself into Nik’s side, however, insistently tugging at Nik’s arms until he could pull it around his shoulders. Against his will, Nik felt himself loosening as Lev scented him, a low soothing purr coming from Lev as he did.

“Is everything okay?” Lev asked.

“I mean I guess,” Nik said, crossly. “I wake up to him in my bed that I can’t even sleep in because I guess it was his bed first, or something.”

Lev nosed at Nik’s jaw lightly. “It was,” Lev said unhelpfully, and then, with irritating optimism, Lev added, “We can pick another room. Any room. I doubt Cameron will make you stay in the rooms he’s moved us to right now. And I also doubt he’d say no about much of anything when it comes to decorating your new room. Not right now, anyway. The opportunities are almost endless.”

“Whatever,” Nik said. “I have to move around my life because Cameron felt bad for killing the guy.” He glared at Darius frowning at him. “You’re not special,” he said. “Just because you’re some pretty face doesn’t mean shit. We’re all pretty faces. Don’t expect me to get in line to kiss your ass like everyone else.”

Darius blinked at him, seemingly bewildered, but he just nodded at him.

“Nikolas,” Lev chastised, but even his scolding was tempered by worry. “Darius hasn’t done anything. And I was the one that asked for him; I’m the one that told Cameron he was still there.” Lev hesitated, and then added gently, “Darius helped me while I was dead. He kept me steady, kept me sane. He deserves another chance as much as I do. More. He’s a kind person, Nik. That’s all.”

Nik sighed through his nose. “Fine,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Is Cameron home or is he going to resurrect some other not-boyfriend?”

Lev shrugged. “Last I saw he was in here with Darius, so I don’t know.”

‘I think he’s in his office,’ Darius offered.

“I’m hungry,” Nik mumbled, pathetically.

“I can go get Cameron,” Lev offered, oh-so-helpfully. “With everything going on I don't think it’s a good idea for us to touch anything in his kitchen. Besides, Eden should wake up from her nap soon, and she’ll need a snack too.”

“Okay.”

---

Lev knocked on Cameron’s office door lightly, but didn’t wait to open it. The room was dark, and Lev almost assumed it was empty, but he heard a quiet, “Shut the door,” from the direction of Cameron’s desk, so he slipped inside, closing it obediently.

After letting his eyes adjust, Lev realized Cameron was bent over the desk, head in his arms. Lev chose to approach slowly, hovering his hand over Cameron’s shoulder before ultimately letting it drop back to his side instead. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“I’m fine,” Cameron said, stiffly. “Just a headache.”

Right. Lev worried his lip between his teeth. “Nik’s hungry,” he finally said. “I can make him something, if you’d like.”

“Fine,” Cameron said, dismissively. “Just clean up after yourself.”

Lev nodded, but didn’t move. “I had something else to ask,” he finally said. “If that’s okay?”

“Alright.”

“I should probably get back to training, if I can get Ash to sign off on it? Or Sazra?” Lev fiddled with the bottom of his shirt, and then grimaced. “Or- can I? I don't- it doesn’t have to be you, but- I had planned- without my magic- well, without my magic, I really am useless, aren’t I? And I don’t like feeling like I’m a vulnerability for Nik, especially when he’s pregnant.” He took a deep breath, hardened his tone. “I won’t let anything happen to my mate.”

“Probably,” Cameron agreed. “Get it okayed by Ash and Sazra and I will put it into my schedule. I’ll fit you in.”

“I- oh. Okay,” Lev said, trying not to be too enthusiastic. He put his hand on Cameron’s shoulder as he started to say, “Thank you,” but his voice died a little as he realized just how thin Cameron’s shoulder was.

Cameron carefully removed Lev’s hand from his shoulder. Even in the dark Lev could see Cameron giving him a slow once over, noting how clothes that had fit perfectly a month ago were just a little loose now. Lev hadn’t paid attention before, but Cameron’s shrewd gaze made him hyper aware.

“Make sure you eat too,” was all Cameron said in the end. “And close the door behind you when you leave.”

Lev swallowed. He ran his fingers through Cameron’s hair once, just to reassure himself that he could, that they were both still there and then backed for the door. “I’ll bring you something later,” he promised. “And some painkillers.”

He made sure that the door clicked shut as quietly as he could.

---

While Cyrus flipped through one of the several books he’d lain on the bed, Sorin napped sprawled on his lap. Sorin’s surprisingly strong tail wrapped around his wrist insistently, the prehensile appendage tugging every once and a while as the demon dreamed.

Cyrus had spent the last few hours reading up on the gods. While he was certainly more educated, he felt like it was only a surface level understanding of them. Which- understandable. There was a lot, and these were gods.

Rather than continue to stare blankly at the pages, Cyrus settled more deeply into the pillows he was propped up against. Sorin huffed at him, his tail tightening briefly, but when Cyrus made no move to get up, the demon fell asleep again pretty quickly.

Once the house was quiet, Cyrus closed his eyes and tried to remember how Darius had shown him how to reach out for Asmi. It’d certainly been more ritualistic than Cyrus was able to do right now, but even attempting without the words and candles and pomp and ceremony, when Cyrus opened his eyes, he was back in the warm room, Asmi seated before him.

“Asmi,” Cyrus said, dipping into a small bow. He looked up, offering a small smile. “Will it always be that easy to reach you?”

Asmi lifted a brow. “If you were aware of your studies, you would know,” they said, amused.

Cyrus gave a shrug in acquiescence. “True,” he said, “But who better to ask my questions than you? I’ve been reading, while my mate keeps me on bedrest. Trying to understand all of it. The sheer amount of literature to wade through is... overwhelming.”

Asmi brought their tea to their lips. “I imagine getting caught up on nearly forty years of spellwork will take you some time. I’m sure you will now have plenty of time to do so without your magic distracting you.”

“Was taking my magic an opportunity to learn or a punishment?” Cyrus asked, out of sheer curiosity.

Asmi merely gave Cyrus a slight smile.

Cyrus settled in the closest chair with a bit more weight than he usually would. It seemed even in this dimension he was weaker than usual. “Some things have to remain a secret, then?” He asked, mulling it over.

“I told you there will be a price to pay,” they said. “You will pay it tenfold. I do not like to be made weakened by anyone, and this time, my point will be made.”

“I understand,” Cyrus said quietly. “I don’t take this lightly, and I will work hard to learn what I can while without magic.”

“Excellent,” Asmi said, setting their mug of tea down. “You will not regain your magic until I am satisfied.” Asmi flicked a hand, and with a ripple of magic Ash, Lev and Darius appeared in the room with them.

Ash was quick to bow deeply before standing upright wearily. “You summoned me?”

Cyrus flicked a glance at the other two; Lev was quite bewildered, though he gave an echo of Ash’s movements after a beat. Darius gave his own slow bow before quietly buckling into the chair behind him.

Cyrus thought about moving to check on him, but Lev beat him to it, fussing quietly while keeping an eye on Asmi warily. As much as he hated to admit it, he was relieved. It would have taken a lot of energy to stand. Instead he fixed Asmi with another curious stare. “I assume you have a message for all four of us?”

“You should watch your assumptions,” Asmi said. “But yes, I do and I did not feel the need to repeat myself four different times.”

“Apologies,” Cyrus murmured, before falling silent expectantly.

“Apologies noted,” Asmi said, crossing their legs. “I have spoken to Levant already, about carrying a piece of the burden should you defy the natural balance once more. You have all felt its effects. There is and will be a void where your magic was and would be, and that void shall remain until you earn the right to your magic. I demand respect from the lot of you and for you to learn a lesson.”

Ash looked a mix of rage and submission but ultimately hung his head without a word.

“How do we earn it?” Lev asked, and then immediately looked like he wished the ground would swallow him up. Cyrus grimaced in sympathy, but he’d been wondering the same thing, and so he simply looked to Asmi again. Earning it could mean a thousand things, and they were all from different places and backgrounds in life.

A serpentine smile curled on Asmi’s lips. “I am glad you ask. You will all learn everything about the gods, you will worship and devote yourselves accordingly. You will become nearly as knowledgeable and devoted as a priestess and you will not have your magic returned to you until all of you satisfy me. Not one, not three. All four of you will satisfy me or none of you will satisfy me.”

“Understood,” Cyrus said. He’d honestly expected something worse, and judging by the surprise on Lev’s face, so had the angel. Ash and Darius were harder to read, but that was just fine.

Asmi’s eyes narrowed, seemingly reading his mind. “Be glad it is not Kaveh. Would you wish to want harsher punishments, I am sure they will be more than willing to provide.”

“Of course,” Cyrus murmured. Where faint enthusiasm had grown in Lev's expression, it’d quickly become ashen, and he’d reached for Darius’ hand silently.

Darius quietly squeezed Lev's hand. “Your mercy is much appreciated,” Darius murmured, hoarsely. “We will do all that you ask.”

Lev nodded vigorously, again simply echoing the sentiment.

“I will make sure to help in any way,” Ash said. “I already have Lev reading the old books on the various gods from Cameron’s library.”

Cyrus nodded slowly. “I might reach out to you,” he said to Ash, before adding, “And Sorin can find resources for me in places I cannot go. Though it might be a few days; we’re going to be moving soon, before Biela’s mercy wanes. I won’t be welcome in demonic territory at all for the foreseeable future, if ever.”

“I can’t leave Cameron’s house,” Lev piped up nervously. “And Darius shouldn’t be moving around much yet either.”

“Well it’s not like your magic is going anywhere,” Asmi replied. “I’m sure you will figure out how to get to a temple. The lot of you are irritatingly creative.”

“Best see if Biela has any mercy left to spare,” Cyrus advised, even as he thought internally that they might not get their magic back in the next half century just from this.

“Better chance of draining the ocean with a straw,” Ash muttered.

Lev sighed softly, and looked down at Darius. “I can talk to Cameron,” he said. “We’ll figure it out.”

When Darius nodded tiredly, Asmi said, “If you all have nothing else interesting to say I am sending you back.” They didn’t give much room for Lev, Darius, or Ash to speak before they disappeared.

Cyrus blinked at where they had been. “Thank you,” he said, and then clarified, “For taking the time to explain. You could have left us to flounder.”

“I see no point wasting my time,” they said, dismissively. “You will likely have the most to learn, as you think you are above myself and had performed that heinous magic twice. You will find my mercy and my forgiveness is not easily won.”

Asmi waved a hand and sent Cyrus back to his body. Judging from how Sorin’s face was so close to his he could feel the demon’s whiskers tickling his face, it’d been obvious that Cyrus hadn’t been in bed with him in any way beyond physical. Sorin pressed a paw to Cyrus’ chest slowly, spreading his toes and digging his claws in. Five sharp points let Cyrus know just how pisssed Sorin was.

“Alright, alright,” Cyrus muttered. “I’ll rest.”

Sorin gave a pointed sniff, but backed off, nosing the books onto the floor before Cyrus could move them himself. He draped himself across Cyrus’ body, purring deep in his chest the moment Cyrus relaxed.

Point taken.

---

Nik found himself getting summoned to Cameron’s office. He couldn’t even come get him himself, instead he had one of his toadies come and fetch him. Nik did pause, though, when he realized Cameron’s office was pitch black. “Cameron?”

“Sit.”

“Well great to see you, too,” Nik muttered, plopping down on the chair across from him. “For what have you summoned me?”

Cameron looked up in his direction, his eyes glowing animal bright in the darkness. It was so leery; NIk kept forgetting demons could do that. “I want you to go stay with your brother,” he said.

“You’re seriously kicking me out?” Nik said. “Is it because I refused to kiss Darius’ ass?”

Cameron blinked slowly at him, clearly not aware of Nik and Darius’ previous conversation. “No,” he said, mildly. “And it’s not forever. You can come back, if you want, during the weekends or for a couple of days during the week, the choice is yours.”

“Is this because of the demon lands being poisoned?”

“Yes,” Cameron said. “And since you decided to keep the fetus, and you decided to mate with me, that makes you both my responsibility, and I’m not going to let your sentimentality cause a miscarriage or stillbirth because you wanted to be near Lev.”

Nik felt heat rise in his face. “So what, because you mated with me, so my dad couldn’t take me home, you now have control of me?”

“If you want to be so frank,” Cameron said, bluntly, “we can do that. Demonic customs and all of that. However, consider it me giving you the choice to come back a few days of the week. I’d rather keep you off demonic land all together if I had my way about it.”

“And you don’t?” Nik snapped.

“If I had my way about anything, your brother would be dragging you by your ear back to his house in the next thirty minutes,” Cameron said, sharply. “If I had my way, you wouldn’t be back until the fetus was well past four months old when the likelihood of an infant death was not nearly so high. If you wish to act like a petulant child, do it on your own time.”

“I am not acting like a child.”

“Yes,” Cameron said, “you are. You’re throwing hissy fits when you’re not getting your way and yelling at people for things they had nothing to do with. You are actively being a selfish little twat who refuses to not do what the hell is the right thing to do because you want to stay with Lev.”

Nik stared at him in shocked outrage. “Did you seriously call me a twat?”

“Is that all you got from that,” Cameron snapped. “So help me if I have to make the choice for you, you are not coming back to this house for the next eight months, you hear me? I will have your brother tie you to a fucking tree to make my godsdamned point.”

Nik opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to form a thought, let alone a coherent sentence. “...fine,” he said. “I’ll go. I just, I didn’t want to leave either of you, especially when you can’t follow.”

“We will be fine,” Cameron said, a shade calmer. “I’m sure Lev will facetime you or knit you some baby blanket to pass the time, or whatever it is angels do for their pregnant mates. I don’t really care as long as both of you stop pissing me off.”

Any other time the idea of Lev knitting would make him wheeze. “I’m sorry,” Nik said, leaning back into the chair, dragging his fingers through his hair. “I’m just- I feel like I can’t get my footing lately and all of us are spinning out.”

“Well this will be a good chance for you to get grounded then, isn’t it?”

“When am I going?” he said, defeatedly.

“Nate will be here within the hour.”

----

It was dark when Eden woke. It was dark and she did not like that. No one was there to pick her up, and she didn’t like that even more. Papi had left her again. She remembered him leaving, and then Da had put her to bed instead of the pale one later that night. That was too many alterations to what was right and she did not like it.

Not one bit.

A shrill shriek bubbled in her throat, and she banged her hands on the side of her crib the moment she pulled herself up.

No one came to pick her up, which really was unfair. Eden deserved to be picked up. She screeched again, but the house was silent other than her cries.

Filled with the determination of a child wronged by the world, Eden scrabbled her way over the side of the crib. She hit the floor with a solid thud, and almost began to cry from the shock of it all. After a few minutes of sniffling, Eden was on her way again, hooking her little fingers around the door. It took a few tries, and she got it stuck on her leg more than once, but she got it open.

One of the Big Talls stared down at her, seeming as startled to see her as she was to see them. Rather than wait to see what they’d do, Eden booked it, moving as fast as she could crawl on chubby baby legs.

Behind her, the Big Tall said something loudly, and unwelcome hands grabbed her around the waist. Eden wailed a toddler war cry and bit the nearest finger with her little fangs. That seemed to work, because very quickly she found herself on the ground, even if the Big Tall still had a grip on her, and had cushioned her fall.

---

Cameron had yet to go to bed. He was sitting it the dark in Darius’ room past midnight with a small light and his book. His head snapped up when he heard Eden’s telltale screech-crying right aside a grown demon’s screaming as well.

He quietly sat down his book, ignoring the pain pulsing behind his eye and wrapping around his head and headed for the sound in question.

He found Eden on the floor, sitting and crying and smacking the sentry’s face, perhaps to get him to stop screaming. Or maybe she just felt like hitting someone.

Cameron scooped her up off the floor and peered down at the sentry’s bleeding hand and back to Eden’s sharp little fangs. “I see your venom has come in,” he sighed. He toed the sentry’s face up in his direction. “I will make sure to add this inconvenience to your paycheck. When you get a hold of yourself, take the rest of the night off.”

With that, Cameron stepped around him and took Eden down the hall. She was sniffling and mouthing at Cameron’s shoulder. He lightly pinched her leg. “Bite me and I’ll bite back,” he warned.

She seemed intent on ignoring his threat.

Cameron opened the door of the bedroom Lev was sleeping in and flicked the lights on. “Wake up,” he said, even as Lev stirred awake.

Lev propped himself up on his elbow and squinted at them. “Eden?”

“You wanted to keep the baby,” Cameron said, irritably, tracking across the room. “Take her. Be careful, though, her venom came in.”

“Oh baby,” Lev said, reaching for her. He was sitting up by now, and once Eden was safely in his lap he started rubbing her back lightly. “She can stay in my bed tonight. Maybe she had a nightmare.”

“Maybe,” Cameron agreed, tiredly. “Just don’t roll on top of her, I guess.” He started for the doorway and flicked the lights off once more, at least giving himself some relief. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

Cameron made his way back to his chair, rubbing his temples on the way. Unsurprisingly Darius was sitting up, waiting for him. He patted the bed on the side Cameron had always slept on, clearly offering him the spot.

“You should be asleep.”

Darius gave him a very long look that Cameron chose to interpret as he should be as well- and then promptly dismissed it. “I have work I need to be doing.”

A small crease formed between Darius’ brows and he patted the bed more insistently.

Cameron sighed sharply. “If I get in, will you stop being a nuisance and go to sleep?” When Darius nodded, pleased, Cameron sighed once more and began undressing slowly, doing his best to not further aggravate his headache.

He crawled into the bed and put his face in the pillow, all too aware of the coolness of Darius’ skin next to his.

tagging: @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @lil-miss-red @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis @idreamonpaper

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #wip boost #original writing #ch: cameron #ch: nik #ch: the gods #ch: ash #ch: darius #hell to pay

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nextgentaimanins · 3 years

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Hey i'm going to write a og Taimanin fanfic which include (TY1&2,RPGX,Action,Carla the Bloodlord, Diviner Knight Towako, and Steel Witch Annerose). Should I make a connection to the plot?. Give me your advice/opinion/example my man.

. . .

Not sure why you're asking me, I don't think I'm good at writing myself ahaha. . .

. . . But I'll say, you're combining so much and if you REALLY want to since I believe most or all of those lies under the same universe. You gotta do a lot of thinking on how to do this. More so with combing RPGX and action.

Which is something I'm doing as I'm slowly leaning the VN verse into the RPG/Action verse. You gotta be smart about it, write the character as they should and understand both the setting/characters.

Look, I know Haha Taimanin came from hardcore porn but it still had Character and plot reasons as stupid as it could be while now doing world-building with RPG/Action where H-scenes on RPG is optional mainly. You have to know how to smoothly interlace these different verses and you may not have to write porn due to rpg/actions.

Hell, I don't think Lilith is GOOD at doing this kind of thing because they focus on making the player character feel wanted I.E Fuuma because that's how many gachas are like even when they had to tweak Yuki/Rinko's character for that.

Like, would Yuki really care about Tokiko and how Fuuma is for her? Fuck no, Yukikaze wouldn't care at all. You're talking about a girl who barely talks to anyone and has the title "Cool and talented beauty" because of her cold attitude yet RPG/Actions tweaks her character more so when Tatsuou is in this limbo of not existing but also existing. I hate the sole fact of not including already establish characters especially for people like Yuki/Rinko as it actually hurts their character. (It has gotten better as My boi Kurou and recently Edwin Black(Who looks MUCH cooler and I hope his plans are better) so hopefully they will introduce Tatsurou soon???)

Sorry about that, but yeah. . . My thoughts and advice. I'm always open to talking about Taimanin, I hope people come to me off anon to speak of it. One last thing, I started some time ago some oc crossover with Taimanin. It's dumb but I understood how characters are, I had it where Yuki wasn't just insta liking the others even when she had too because she was in a world she was unfamiliar with. While involving the villains like "What happen to REAL" and I had come back as the main villains introduced to the villain of the oc world I'm in where they established communications and together created teleporters. Real was no longer the owner of under eden because of what happened at the end of TY1 and Ryuji is giving him a new chance, as well half of Real's face is now robotic because of what Yuki did.

Just be smart about how you do thing and prob will work out in the end.

#mun speaks #anon #long post

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graveyarddirt · 4 years

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Playlist: Halloween Part 1 [#-L] 🎃

This isn't really a playlist as much as it's a masterlist of songs I've been collecting for years with the intention to group together into smaller Halloween and sabbat themed playlists.

There's goth (old & new), folk, metal, rock, movie themes, soundtrack scores, horror punk, new wave, new age, 50s horror bop, 70s esoteric prog rock, and songs from various Halloween specials with a hard focus on 80s TV specials.

➡️ youtube: Halloween Part 1 [#-L] playlist ⬅️

Long Play; 13 Vintage Halloween Songs from the 1910s, 20s, & 30s, Various Artists {listen} A Hornbook For Witches, Vincent Price {listen} Bram Stoker’s Dracula: full soundtrack, Wojciech Kilar {listen} Buio Omega: full soundtrack, Goblin {listen} Peter and the Wolf, David Bowie {listen} Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The, Tobe Hooper & Wayne Bell {listen}

(); (Don’t Fear) The Reaper, Blue Öyster Cult {listen} (Don’t Fear) The Reaper, Unto Ashes {listen} (Every Day is) Halloween, Ministry {listen} (Every Day is) Halloween (2019), Ministry {listen}

#; #1 Crush, Garbage {listen} 7 Devils, The Goddamn Gallows {listen}

A; A Clockwork Orange: Title Music, Wendy Carlos {listen} A Forest, The Cure {listen} A Nightmare on Elm Street: Prologue/ Main Title, Charles Bernstein {listen} A Question of Blood, Jean-Michel Jarre & John Carpenter {listen} A Witches Song, Ordo Funebris {listen} A’soalin, Peter, Paul & Mary {listen} Aisha, Death in Vegas feat. Iggy Pop {listen} All Hallows Eve, Type O Negative {listen} All Souls' Night, Loreena McKennitt {listen} Алукард (Alucard), Zinaida, opomnis’! {listen} Amphetamine Logic, The Sisters of Mercy {listen} Amsterdamned, Loïs Lane {listen} Angels (Laibach Mix), The, Christian Death {listen} Angry Johnny, Poe {listen} Autumnal, Arcana {listen} Ave Dementia, The Marionettes {listen} Awfully Sinister, Suspiria {listen}

B; Bad Moon Rising, Creedence Clearwater Revival {listen} Bela Lugosi’s Dead, Bauhaus {listen} Bela Lugosi’s Dead, Nouvelle Vague {listen} Black Angel, The Cult {listen} Black Dog, Babe Ruth {listen} Black Is the Colour of My True Love’s Hair, HAUSFRAU {listen} Black Madonna, Theatre of Hate {listen} Black Magic, Magic Wands {listen} Black Magic (Suspiria), Sindravania Projects & Viking Guitar Productions {listen} Black No. 1 (Little Miss Scare-All), Type O Negative {listen} Black Snake, Atomic Rooster {listen} Blind Dead, WLDV {listen} Blob, The, The Five Blobs {listen} Blood, Plan 9 {listen} Blood Moon, Saint Sister {listen} Blood of My Lady {Part 2}, The, Unto Ashes {listen} Blood Walk, Cabaret Nocturne {listen} Boogie Monster, The, Gnarls Barkley {listen} Bottom of the River, Delta Rae {listen} Breedless, Ego Likeness {listen} Buio Omega: Theme Reprise, Goblin {listen} Burn, The Cure {listen} Burn the Witch, Queens of the Stone Age {listen} Burning Skies, Tones on Tail {listen}

C; Calcutta, The Names {listen} Candy, Chromatics {listen} Candyman: Cue 2C (Musicbox), Philip Glass {listen} Cantos Profanae (Troll theme), Richard Band {listen} Casper the Friendly Ghost, Daniel Johnston {listen} Cat People (Putting Out Fire), David Bowie {listen} Changelings, Gazelle Twin (John Foxx and the Maths remix) {listen} Cities in Dust, Siouxsie and the Banshees {listen} City of the Living Dead: Theme, Fabio Frizzi {listen} Come to the Sabbat, Black Widow {listen} Come Unto the Corn, The Hare and the Moon {listen} Crazy Man Michael, The Hare and The Moon {listen} Crow, The: Birth of a Legend, Graeme Revell {listen} Cry Little Sister, The Lost Boys OST {listen} Cut, Miranda Sex Garden {listen} Cyanide, Deathstars {listen}

D; Daddy Walked in Darkness, Gil Bateman {listen} Dance In the Graveyards, Delta Rae {listen} Dark Allies, Light Asylum {listen} Dark Entries, Bauhaus {listen} Dark Half, The, The Eden House {listen} Dark Mother, Menace Ruine {listen} Darkness, Daniel Deluxe {listen} Dawn Comes for Us All, Ex Reverie {listen} Day O (Banana Boat Song), Harry Belafonte {listen} Dead Man's Party, Oingo Boingo {listen} Dead Souls, Nine Inch Nails {listen} Death by Moonlight, Rhea’s Obsession {listen} Death Disco, Arbeid Adelt! {listen} Deception, The Crüxshadows {listen} Demo, Deathron/Futura Synk {listen} Demon Cleaner, Kyuss {listen} Devil Do, Holly Golightly & the Brokeoffs {listen} Devil’s Whorehouse, Misfits {listen} Devils Haircut, Beck {listen} Devil Inside, INXS {listen} Devil Town, Daniel Johnston {listen} Diane, Therapy? {listen} Die, Die My Darling, Misfits {listen} Die Monster Die, Misfits {listen} Dieche, Sex Gang Children {listen} Dig up Her Bones, Misfits {listen} Dirge, Death in Vegas {listen} Discopolis 2.0 (Fehrplay Remix), Lifelike & Kris Menace {listen} Disney's Halloween Treat, Galen R. Brandt & John Debney {listen} Dominion/Mother Russia, The Sisters Of Mercy {listen} Dragula, Rob Zombie {listen} Dream Warriors, Dokken {listen}

E; Emily, Clan of Xymox {listen} Enter Sandman, SHEL {listen} Evil, 45 Grave {listen} Evil Dead, Stellar Corpses {listen}

F; Fate, George Michael Myers {listen} Fog, The, John Carpenter {listen} Friday the 13th Part III: Theme, Harry Manfredini & Hot Ice {listen} Friday the 13th Part V: His Eyes, Pseudo Echo {listen} Fright Night, J. Geils Band {listen} Furry Happy Monsters, REM and The Muppets {listen}

G; Ghostbusters, Ray Parker Jr. {listen} Ghost of John (Traditional), Ryn & Phonetic Hero {listen} Ghost That Feeds, The, Nathan Chase {listen} Giza, Gatekeeper {listen} Graveyard Cha Cha, The Three D’s {listen} Graveyard Rock, Tarantula Ghoul and Her Gravediggers {listen} Great Pumpkin Waltz, The, Vince Guaraldi Trio {listen} Grisly Reminder, Midnight Syndicate {listen}

H; Halloween, Kay Lande and Wade Denning {listen} Halloween, Misfits {listen} Halloween II, Misfits {listen} Halloween, Mudhoney {listen} Halloween in Heaven, Type O Negative {listen} Halloween Parade, Lou Reed {listen} Halloween: Theme, John Carpenter {listen} Haunted When the Minutes Drag, Love and Rockets {listen} He's a Vampire, Archie King {listen} He’s Back (The Man Behind The Mask), Alice Cooper {listen} Headless Horseman, The, Kay Starr {listen} Heads Will Roll, Yeah Yeah Yeahs {listen} Heart of Darkness, Wench {listen} Helena, Misfits {listen} Hell, Squirrel Nut Zippers {listen} Hollow Hills, Bauhaus {listen} Howl, Florence + The Machine {listen} Howling, The, Babel {listen}

I; I Believe in Halloween, The Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black {listen} I Can See Ya, Ghostling {listen} I Hope You Die, Molly Nilsson {listen} I Put a Spell on You, Bette Midler {listen} I Put A Spell On You, Marilyn Manson {listen} I’m Just A Shadow, SHEL {listen} I’m Your Boogie Man, White Zombie {listen} Incendary Lover, Gitane Demone {listen} Incubus Succubus II, X-Mal Deutschland {listen} In the Mirror (Profondo Rosso/Deep Red), VikingGuitar ft. Chunkstyle {listen} It’s All Forgotten Now, The Caretaker {listen} It’s Halloween, The Shaggs {listen} It’s Your Voodoo Working, Charles Sheffield {listen}

J; Jimmy’s Grave, Deadbolt {listen} John Carpenter’s Halloween, Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross {listen} Jump in the Line (Shake, Señora), Harry Belafonte {listen}

K; Killing Moon, The, Echo and The Bunnymen {listen} Killing Moon, The, Nouvelle Vague {listen} King Volcano, Bauhaus {listen} Kiss, The, The Cure {listen}

L; Last Caress, Misfits {listen} Last One Standing, The, Ladytron {listen} Li’l Red Riding Hood, Sam the Sham and The Pharaohs {listen} Life in the Gladhouse, Modern English {listen} Lips Like Sugar, Echo and the Bunnymen {listen} Litanie des Saints, Dr. John {listen} Living Dead Girl, Rob Zombie {listen} Living Hell, Misfits {listen} London Dungeon, Misfits {listen} Lost Your Soul, Cliff and Ivy {listen} Love Like Blood, Killing Joke {listen} Love Song for a Vampire, Annie Lennox {listen} Lucretia, My Reflection, The Sisters Of Mercy {listen} Lullaby, The Cure {listen} Lyke Wake Dirge, Pentangle {listen}

#halloween #halloween music #music #playlist #playlists

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Streaming on Plex: Best Movies and TV Shows You Can Watch for FREE in September

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This article is sponsored by Plex. You can download the Free Plex App now by clicking here!

There’s an overwhelming amount of new movies and TV shows hitting streaming services this fall. If you’re starving for new content, it’s set to be a fantastic time, but if your wallet is starving for funds, it can be pretty stressful. With studios and content providers spreading their libraries out across so many different streaming services, keeping up with all of your favorites can get expensive. Thankfully, Plex TV is here to keep you entertained without breaking the bank.

Plex is a globally available one-stop-shop streaming media service offering thousands of free movies and TV shows and hundreds of free-to-stream live TV channels, from the biggest names in entertainment, including Metro Goldwyn Mayer (MGM), Warner Bros. Domestic Television Distribution, Lionsgate, Legendary, AMC, A+E, Crackle, and Reuters. Plex is the only streaming service that lets users manage their personal media alongside a continuously growing library of free third-party entertainment spanning all genres, interests, and mediums including podcasts, music, and more. With a highly customizable interface and smart recommendations based on the media you enjoy, Plex brings its users the best media experience on the planet from any device, anywhere.

Plex releases brand new and beloved titles to its platform monthly and we’ll be here to help you identify the cream of the crop. View Plex TV now for the best free entertainment streaming and check back each month for Den of Geek Critics’ picks!

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DEN OF GEEK CRITICS’ PICKS

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

They’re the world’s most fearsome fightin’ team. They’re heroes in a half-shell and they’re green. I mean, what more do we need to say? 2014’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is no Citizen Kane, but comic book movie fans flock to it like the four titular turtles to pizza. The film knows exactly what it is, providing cheesy one-liners, silly action, and unpretentious fun. Throwing in Will Arnett as a sidekick for April O’Neil was an inspired choice that paid dividends in laughs and whoever tapped Tony Shaloub to voice Splinter should get a pay raise. Produced by Nickelodeon Pictures, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles wasn’t only the highest grossing film in the series, but also the highest grossing Nickelodeon film of all-time. This reboot of the classic ninja team helped spawn further films, new TV series, and a renewed interest in one of the most beloved comic book properties ever. Cowabunga, dude!

Noah

This isn’t your Sunday School’s Noah. Darren Aronofsky’s adaptation of the story of the biblical figure Noah is an awe-inspiring epic that takes the bones of the famous story and infuses themes about environmentalism, self-doubt, and yes, faith. Pulling liberally from texts like the Book of Enoch, the film has far more action than just leading animals onto a boat and a storm. Shot by Matthew Libatique, the movie looks absolutely gorgeous and at times can be genuinely breath-taking, but it’s not just about the visuals. Russell Crowe stuns in the title role, but the entire ensemble is great, including a post-Potter Emma Watson and a ferocious Ray Winstone. No one expected Noah to be more akin to a thought-provoking art house film than a straight-forward epic, but that’s the sort of genius you get from Aronofsky, one of the most exciting and inventive filmmakers working today.

Shine a Light

Even if we hadn’t just lost the immortal, suave Charlie Watts, the heartbeat of rock and roll’s longest institution, The Rolling Stones, we’d still be recommending Martin Scorsese’s Shine a Light. Capturing the legendary band during their A Bigger Bang Tour in 2006, Scorsese spends a lot of the time rightfully focusing on Watts. With the camera fixated on Watts, you witness his unflappability; the way that he can make such raucous playing look so effortless. You also catch the man’s unique, jazz-influenced technique, like how he rarely hits the center of his snare, or how he changes his grip whenever he hits a cymbal. Even in their old age, the Stones are still one of the tightest, most electrifying live acts, and Shine a Light puts you right on stage with them as they barrel through one of the deepest catalogs in recorded music. It’s simply a masterful concert film.

The Virgin Suicides

Sofia Coppola likely has to deal with accusations about nepotism to this day, but anyone who saw her directorial debut The Virgin Suicides knows that Francis’ daughter would have made it as a filmmaker even without her famous last name. This haunting adaptation of Jeffrey Eugenides’ novel of the same name taps into the melancholy of childhood, the dreamlike haze of memory, and the mystery that lurks inside suburban homes. Coppola expertly captures the pull that an ethereal group of sisters have on the imaginative group of boys that pine for them in a way that is relatable for anyone that had an unrequited crush in high school. As a coming-of-age movie, it is one of a kind. As an exploration of trauma and grief, it is crushingly effective. The original score by the band Air only adds to its hypnagogic vibe.

Rock ‘n’ Roll High School

Punk rock music and Roger Corman pictures are some of the core tenants that Den of Geek was founded on, so of course we’re going to recommend 1979’s Rock ‘n’ Roll High School, which features possibly the coolest band of all-time, The Ramones. Let our resident punk rock movie expert Jim Knipfel break it down for you:

“After producing so many dozens of teen rebellion films over the years, Corman finally hit the pinnacle, the ultimate teen rebellion picture, with the cartoon antics ratcheted up more than a few notches. There are so many bad jokes flying around, so many visual gags and film references packed into every scene, so many overwrought teen film clichés pushed way past absurd, it’s a film that demands multiple viewings. Even if “Riff Randall, rock ’n’ roller” (P.J. Soles) doesn’t look much like any punk chick I ever knew, I’m perfectly willing to accept it. And in historical terms, it really was this film more than the 4 albums they had out at the time that spread the word about The Ramones to mainstream America, and that’s worth something. Old as I am I still get a thrill every time the students and the Ramones blow up Vince Lombardi High, and anyone who doesn’t must be wrong in the head somehow.”

New on Plex in September:

1000 Times Good Night

13 Assassins

The Accidental Husband

All Good Things

Assassination of a High School President

Awake

Bent

Bordertown

Brain Dead

Cold Mountain

The Descent

The Descent Part 2

Even Money

Fear City

First Snow

Freedom Writers

Gray Matters

The Jesus Rolls

Johnny Was

Keys to Tulsa

The Legend of Bagger Vance

Mad Money

Marrowbone

Murder on the Orient Express

The Ninth Gate

Nothing but the Truth

Ordinary People

Rememory

Rock ‘n’ Roll High School

Sanctuary

Shine a Light

Soul Survivors

Taboo

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

The TV Set

The Virgin Suicides

What Doesn’t Kill You

Winter Passing

World Trade Center

Catch before it leaves in September:

Absolution

Accident Man

Aeon Flux

After.Life

Angel of Death

Answer Man

The Bang Bang Club

Battle Royale

Blood and Bone

The Broken

Cashmere Mafia

Child 44

Cleaner

Cold Comes the Night

Coming Soon

The Connection

Conspiracy

The Cookout

Critical Condition

Dark Crimes

The Death and Life of Bobby Z

Death Proof

Dickie Roberts: Former Child Star

Downhill Racer

Dragged Across Concrete

The Dresser

The Duel

Dummy

Flight of Fury

Flirting with Disaster

The Foreigner

Goat

Gutshot Straight

Halloween III: Season of the Witch

The Hard Corps

Hesher

High Right

Honeymoon

The Hunt

I Saw the Devil

In the Mix

Jason and the Argonauts

Jeff, Who Lives at Home

Jiri Dreams of Sushi

Joe

Journey to the West

Kill ‘Em All

A Kind of Murder

The Kite Runner

Lake Placid 2

Lake Placid 3

Last Resort

The Lazarus Project

Misconduct

Mr. Church

Mutant Chronicles

Mythica: The Godslayer

Mythica: The Iron Clown

Never Back Down: No Surrender

News Radio

Noah

Ong Bak: The Thai Warrior

Ong Bak: The Beginning

The Order

Out for a Kill

The Outcasts

Phantoms

Pistol Whipped

The Protector

Pulse (2001)

Reprisal

Return to the Blue Lagoon

The River Murders

The Romantics

Second in Command

Shadow Man

Shattered

The Shepherd

Southside with You

Space Station 76

Square Pegs

Standoff

Starship Troopers 2: Hero of the Federation

Starship Troopers 3: Marauder

Steel Dawn

Substitute

The Super

SWAT: Under Siege

The Terminal

The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada

Touchy Feely

Trollhunter

UFO

Universal Solider: Day of Reckoning

Vamps

Vicky Cristina Barcelona

Walking Tall: Lone Justice

Warlock

What Planet are You From?

World’s Fastest Indian

World’s Greatest Dad

The Yellow Handkerchief

Still streaming on Plex:

2:22

2 Days in New York

21 Jump Street

22 Bullets

24 Hours to Live

3rd Rock from the Sun

6 Bullets

99 Homes

A Little Bit of Heaven

A Walk in the Woods

The Air I Breathe

Alan Partridge

ALF

Alone in the Dark

Amelie

American Pastoral

And Soon the Darkness

Andromeda

Are You Here

Arthur and the Invisibles

Awake

Battle in Seattle

Bernie

Better Watch Out

Black Death

Blade of the Immortal

Blitz

The Brass Teapot

Bronson

The Brothers Bloom

The Burning Plain

But I’m a Cheerleader

Cake

Candy

Catch .44

Cell

The Choice

Clerks II

Coherence

The Collector

Colonia

Congo

Cooties

The Core

The Cotton Club

Crossing Lines

Croupier

Cube

Cube 2

Cube Zero

Cyrano de Bergerac

Death and the Maiden

The Deep Blue Sea

Deep Red

Derailed

Detachment

The Devil’s Rejects

Diary of the Dead

District B13

DOA: Dead or Alive

Dr. T and the Women

Eden Lake

The Edge of Love

The post Streaming on Plex: Best Movies and TV Shows You Can Watch for FREE in September appeared first on Den of Geek.

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hag-rambling-on · 4 years

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Demigods and kinda Deities of the Magic Realms feats the Legendarium

... also knows as a hag who harcore redesigns the season that most excited and disappointed her as her favorite.

Golden Kingdom

It is a place specially created by Ethereals for their favorites. Also called Relix. The best way to define it is to think of Avalon, the Eden or the Olympus. Lots of places, although where their doors lead - it hardly matters who opens them - is only decided by their inhabitants or Ethereals.

Actually the ones who live in the Golden Kingdom are the first of their kind, the ancestors of one or more races, commonly called the Council of Elders.

Among them we can mention Carabossa and Clariel who where the first wizard and fae (and also the firsts elf and human respectively, also first male and female but gesh do NOT ship them, Clariel x Nubia if you must) and therefore part of the Ancestors mentioned in the Legendarium. The other members are Kristjana the first mermaid, Oros the first archicentaur, Puck the second pixie (the flying creature one... second because in fact the first is still Ninfea, Puck was the second pixie born and who agreed to go to the Golden Kingdom and is the Pixie of Change and is bonded to Arcadia)... Ninfea is the Pixie of Carabossa you can not change my mind.

Also, Carabossa trained the Three Ancestral Witches when they finally born and they were three sweet little girls ... so it's not like showing his face, ever. He tried so hard to make everyone forget his name.

The Legendarium

Here the Legendarium is a written chronicle of the beginnings of the Realm that was enchanted in a mixture of given life / turned into a space-time loop - portal. And all this happened at the same time that was write by a wizard called Acheron, in a far distant past.

It even contains stories from the Elders long before they were considered such.

When this happened and some of its still young protagonists became aware of the groundhog days and the repeated catastrophes and the villains trying again and again to repeat their plans, correcting their mistakes, and almost succeeding.

They fought Acheron and locked him in his own book, ending the stories with the correct, happy endings that should and had been. They sealed said book with magic and turned their magic into their weapons in such a way that only said weapons now keys would be able to free Acheron while, althought it was not their intention if someone else read it Acheron could only at most communicate if the reader were a magical user.

So, it's not an alternate dimension but a kind of groundhog day summoner, and temporary space-portal and which in effect allows you to bring the monsters of that time to this time. A very dangerous weapon indeed.

Since nothing lasts forever, that group of fairies and witches who taught magic to the Realms broke up but before that they sealed part of themselves in their weapons so that if the book were reopened their successors had some guidance and it would be possible to close it as soon as possible.

-This also means that Selina was able to temporarily use a key or manipulate someone whom one of the keys accepted to open the book, in effect.-

Among these first fairies and witches we include Clariel Arcadia and Clarabossa Acrypta, the first fairy and wizard of the Realms. YES.

Clariel Arcadia (Fairy of Auroras)

Carabossa Acrypta (Wizard of Thorns)

Selemisa of Solaria (Witch of the Moon)

Akkos Sivson (Fae of Crystals)

Salvador Glitz (Wizard of Illusions)

Chen Hua (Fae/Fairy of Transfiguration)

Nubia of Romulea (Fairy of Metals)

Ethereals

Ah, those responsible for creation and for the universe to exist. They have their own place outside of all physical laws.

But most of them kinda of get bored, you know? One always has one foot (or nose) on the Dream Plane -which is like theirs, anyway-, the other damns/blesses his favored ones with what humans would call "Dragon's Flame". Other gives totally random blessings.

Ethereal of Life and Energy, at times the Ethereal of Good (also known as Great Dragon). They are like a child in front of television who sometimes reaches out to push their favorite character at “better” (at their eyes) places. They don't really interact that much, but they are the most colorful and has left the best "legacy".

In the Elemental Circle is Fire (and its possible derivations). And I affectionately call them The Child -not miniYoda, other The Child- or Young Hearted if you must.

Ethereal of Death and Void, at times the Ethereal of Evil (also known as Shadow Phoenix). No, it’s not Darkar, Darkar is a Morix -read the fairy transformations- Fae with bad luck although he stopped seeing it like that long ago.

In the Elemental Circle is Air (and its possible derivations). And I affectionately call them Trickster.

Ethereal of Time and Space, at times the Ethereal of Neutrality. Co-creator of the Water Stars and the proof that the Council of Elders are HardennedAndProudlyStubbornSelfMadePeopleTM. It was the only interaction it -the Ethereal- had with the universe in a loooong time since they go very at their own pace. Oh, but they HATES the Legendarium. If you want to communicate with them, prod them with the Cursed Book. They devised the Golden Kingdom and brought Arcadia and Carabossa into it just to have someone guard the damn book. And both mortals dare saying them “no”, leave it to new generations they have the instruments to do it -beware angry ethereal, angry ethereal-

In the Elemental Circle is Water (and its possible derivations). And I affectionately call them Angry IssuesTM.

Ethereal of Magic, Ethereal of Dreams, at times also knows as the Ethereal of Miracles, Freedom and Possibilities (most people think they are 2 Ethereals actually, therefore the title). They usually spends part of their time in the Realm of Dreams, so it could be said that they are the one that interacts the most with intelligent races, although said races don't know that.

In the Elemental Circle is “Earth” (Actually, Earth and its derivatives, and Fauna and Flora). And I affectionately call them Softy!!! (with the happy and warm exclamations included).

Fortunately for all of us, if they enter our plane, they must asume physical body and limit theirselves as a must to what they can do when interact with the world. It is a pact that all Ethereals made not to destroy their creation every f**king second.

#winx #winx club #winx rewrite #rewinxing #ethereals #legendarium #golden kingdom #winx golden kingdom #winx legendarium #council of elders #mythix #worldbuilding #mythix team

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witchsickness · 4 years

Note

🔪😱🙌 🗣👀😕😰📺💉👻📖😒👌😂⚰️🤢💀👽😡🎵

hi i worship the groung u walk on and if u think i wont answer each and every one of these,,, ya got another thing comin’ 💖🦇🎃

🔪 Favorite Slasher film

alice, sweet alice (1976)

silent night, bloody night (1972)

black christmas (1974)

the collector (1965)

😱 Scene that always terrifies you

okay so like. lately? nothing rly shakes me to my core, which is. a fuckin shame tbh, b u t. i was like. fourteen when i first watched the shining and that scene. jack nicholson staring at the scale maze and then,, cutting to his wife and son walking in the actual thing,,,, yeP that stayed

🙌 Favorite Horror film director?

me, vibrating at a frequency that can shatter glass: yea i like jeremy saulnier a normal amount

aNYWAY saulnier. eggers. corman. bava. amirpour. rollin

🗣 Favorite Cult Classic horror?

here and also. bc u asked so im contractually obligated to offer some more

phantasm (1979)

the abominable dr. phibes (1971)

phenomena (1985)

torso (1973)

👀 2 sequels that were better than the original

okay but. objectively aliens is better and braver and gayer than alien and halloween iii: season of the witch is simply. superior. like. it says so on the title. witches.

also. army of darkness. no further explanation needed

😕 Movie that scares everyone else that you’re not afraid of

uhh that would be. p much all modern high-profile horror franchises? not to sound like a complete film elitist, which i absolutely am, but. most of them just. dont hit the mark. they have all the elements, the atmosphere and the setting and the costumes, but. ehhh usually sth’s off

😰 First ‘scary’ movie you saw as a kid

aksfa;sf i feel like everyone has this one ghibli film that literally ruined their entire childhood and traumatized them forever and thAT would be spirited away for me ! those fuckin pigs still haunt my dreams

📺 That one really bad horror movie that you love to watch

rip to those who hate the babysitter but i have taste

💉 Most fucked up horror film you’ve seen

(i love all of these,, So Much)

audition (1999)

the descent (2005)

eden lake (2008)

the void (2016)

martyrs (2008)

raw (2016)

👻 What scary movie you’ll be watching this Halloween?

ive been meaning to watch kuroneko (1968) for a while now and also. she dies tomorrow (2020) bc if there’s anything i love more than an amy seimetz film is an amy seimetz film starring kate lyn sheil, and also. probably some kinda 80s slasher too. to. yk. set the mood,, this one and this one look p sweet

ive been meaning to rewatch coraline too but i also have a chapter and the last half of a fic to write so uhhh we’ll see how that goes

📖 Best book to movie horror

the haunting (1963) is one of the most terrifying movies ive ever seen and just. gets shirley jackson’s tone and atmosphere? just. gorgeous and horrifying

also mike flanagan is a god and the haunting of hill house is a gift and that’s that on horror

😒 Most annoying character in a scary movie

,, men

👌 Your most underrated horror film

here and also!

most beautiful island (2017)

honeymoon (2014)

we are the night (2010)

kiss of the damned (2012)

😂 Unintentionally funniest horror film

here and not to be like that but. hereditary was fuckin hilarious

⚰️ Best death scene

i know there are hundreds others im forgetting but uhhh the unmade scene in suspiria (2018),, come under my wings indEED

🤢 Grossest horror movie

like. yeah okay cannibal holocaust was super yucky and the turtle scene was Extremely Unsettling but. uhh climax was rly gross? everyone was so,,, sweaty,,

💀 Favorite Zombie film

here ! maN i love zombiez

👽 Favorite Sci-Fi Horror

night of the comet (1984)

beyond the black rainbow (2010)

annihilation (2018)

ex machine (2014)

altered states (1980)

village of the damned (1960)

the void (2016)

tarantula (1955)

the stepford wives (1975)

😡 The sequel/prequel that pisses you off

y i kes i watched the last halloween movie recently and it was just,, so bland,, boring,, unnecessary,, pls im so tired

🎵 Scariest Soundtrack

suspiria is obv the first choice like. goblin went off w that, and ive been listening obsessively to the osts of haunting hill and bly manor, and also. under the skin by mica levi is,,,

🎃 Horror Movie Asks 🎃

#vamqira #ask #askfh;slfj i can HEAR u regretting every choice youve ever made but. u brought this upon urself deal w it #ily thank u sm i hope ur having a v spooky halloween eve 🎃🥰🕸

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trashboatprince · 4 years

Text

There aren’t a whole lot of Radio Omens fics on ao3, or at least it’s rather hard to find content, so I’ve decided to contribute a bit. (and I decided to post it here on tumblr too, but it is on ao3 under the same title)

Best I could come up with is them having to go through The Trial from the television adaptation, cause it always confused me that both Book and Radio Omens let them get off kinda scot-free but the show decided, oh no, that’s not happening.

So, yeah, enjoy the Radio boys having to survive their trials. I mean, you know how it ends, but still.

Summery: The quiet calm of hearing nothing from Heaven and Hell was a clear sign that they were going to contact them eventually, and Aziraphale and Crowley knew they only had one chance to make sure that they get out of it without facing the worst of the worst.

Maybe a little help from a witch and the Antichrist can get them out of this impending punishment.

Warning: change to Radio canon, taking a few elements from Drama canon, does include the ending of the two living in South Downs together. There is also the hint that they’ve been a couple since Eden in this cause it’s my headcanon for this adaptation of the story, and if you listen to how they talk to one another, they clearly didn’t wait to be a couple, they just don’t admit to it cause why should they? Haha, but then again, that's just a headcanon and this is my story, so... *shrugs*

On with the fic!

All Tied Up with String

“Angel,” Crowley spoke as he stepped into the kitchen from the back door, seeing said angel sitting at the table, a cup of tea in his hand, “we have a problem.”

“Oh no, it’s that boy from the other day again, isn’t it?” Aziraphale sighed. “What did he steal from the garden this time?”

Crowley shook his head, glancing at the backdoor. He gestured for Aziraphale to follow and the man stood up, following the other out. “I scared him off, he won’t be returning. No, this is much different, much worse.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, until he smelled something, pulling a face. It’s been a while since he’s smelled such a scent, not since the Not-Apocalypse. “Sulfur…” He whispered aloud as he approached where the demon had stopped, seeing the scorch marks on the ground.

They were a signa, Crowley’s, but this wasn’t his work. He’d never mark his garden in such a way, not even as a threat to his plants. This was a letter for him, and Aziraphale felt his blood run cold. “Hell sent you something? Don’t they usually interrupt your programs to do so?”

“Haven’t done it in months, not since that day the world was supposed to end.” Crowley growled as he knelt down, touching at the signa. He lifted his hand, dirt and grass rising with it, taking shape into that of a letter. “They aren’t bothering with the easy stuff, they sent me a letter.”

Carefully, Aziraphale stepped closer, avoiding the ground, just in case. Didn’t want to hurt his feet on ground that could be corrupted now.

“’Demon Crowley, you are to be summoned to Hell at any given point between Tuesday and Thursday. We will give you no warning except this. We do not need to give you a warning, but we like instilling the fear that one will know they are to be executed in due time. It’s a joke to us, just as you are also a joke to us.

You cannot run or hide; we will come for you.’ Oh dear…” The angel frowned. “Crowley, what will you do?”

“I have no clue, go to Alpha Centuri or something, probably. This is not good, I knew that the quiet and calm was going to end, just didn’t think it would be so soon… usually they put off this kinda thing for demons like me until later, when they remember.”

“Ah, but you are a well-known demon, my dear.” Aziraphale sighed softly, shaking his head. “You’ve made quite the name for yourself, even before Beelzebub found out you were trying to prevent the end of the world.”

“My ‘bad deeds’ always do come back to bite me in the ass, don’t they?” Crowley glowered deeply at the letter, watching it burst into flames. “The bastards ruined my garden, now nothing will grow in that spot!”

“Well, you were thinking of installing something out there anyway, maybe a nice bird bath, or even just a normal fountain.”

The dark-haired man snorted, heading for the cottage. “No, you’re the one who wanted to install something, so you had something in my garden.”

“I did let you have those detective novels added to my shelves in the reading room.” Aziraphale replied as he followed him inside. “I think it’s a fair enough-oh good Lord!” He gasped, seeing something impaled into their table.

He was quick to push Crowley back, the demon tense as he felt the gentle waves of something holy. “They found me too…” Aziraphale hissed, approaching the table.

A long, thin, golden pin, much too long to be anything like the ones Shadwell used, seemed like a hat pin, was stabbed into the table, through a letter. Carefully, Aziraphale removed it and looked at the end of the pin, where a golden design was on it. “It’s from the Archangels, this is theirs.”

Crowley hissed himself, backed up against the door. “Get rid of it, I can feel the holiness from it, it’s foul!”

Aziraphale glanced at him and waved his wrist, the pin vanishing from sight, and the demon sighed loudly, relaxing instantly. “What’s your letter say?” He asked.

“The same as yours, though not through a terribly executed joke. They are telling me that I will die sometime in the same time period as yours, but they have it as a ‘trial’ rather than an execution. Ah, I should have known, they wouldn’t let me get away with all the stuff I’ve done.”

“Stopping the Apocalypse, trying to prevent the war, getting too involved in Earth stuff…” Crowley started to count on his fingers, before smirking, “moving in with your adversary and sleeping in his bed at night, though sleeping could mean anything between us now, yes?”

He got a stare from the angel that meant for him to shut up. “Right, well… what should we do?”

Aziraphale sighed and crushed the letter in his hand. “I don’t know, I’ve never been one to be involved in the executions of angels. But… I know trials often result in punishments that are most dreadful. Falling is a problem, as is being de-ranked, and I’m already in the lowest tier of angels as it is, but there is of course… actually execution.”

“We’re not really easy to kill, angel.”

“There are ways, Crowley.” Aziraphale approached him. “Holy water for you, and you… you had some in your home for so long.”

“Since the 60s…” Crowley replied quietly. “I told you it was a good idea, having it as insurance.”

Aziraphale quietly nodded, he had seen the results of the holy water on the floor of Crowley’s flat when they came back to London after the Tadfield stuff. Crowley had explained to him what had happened, that those smears on his floor and on his desk were that of Ligur and Hastur, two demons who wanted to kill him.

“Hellfire for you.” Crowley spoke, snapping Aziraphale from his thoughts. He could see a look on the other’s face, a haunted look that passed so quickly. It’s been six months since that day, and Crowley still felt nervous about fires, thinking about the bookshop when it burned, when he thought he had lost his dearest companion to the fires of Hell cause he couldn’t sense him at all.

“That’s probably what will be used, we’ve broken so many rules, Crowley. We’ve broken the rules since 4004 B.C., it was only a matter of time before they caught onto these things, figured out about the Arrangement, about how we worked together, about…” He waved a hand about, then gestured to the two of them, “everything.”

“We don’t have much time; we only have two days to come up with a plan before the clock starts ticking.”

The angel nodded and stepped forward, leaning against Crowley, suddenly feel exhausted. “I was hoping they gave up on us. Not a word, not a letter, not a broadcast interruption in half a year, but now they decide to contact us, after we came out here, happily together in our little cottage. They know everything.”

“Still can’t believe it took them six thousand years.” Crowley replied, putting his arms around the other. “Wow, our bosses are so dumb!”

There was a loud snort before a laugh from Aziraphale. “Oh, I could have told you that, Crowley. Ah, but... what should we do?”

“Ask book girl? She still has that prophesy book, right?”

Aziraphale nodded, but then shook his head. “I’ve read through it, it says nothing about this, I’m sure. The predictions go up until the End.”

“Doesn’t hurt to ask. You never know, I bet some of those predictions were read wrong, or won’t come true until later, ya know? Cause didn’t you once tell me that Agnus Nutter’s work didn’t sell cause no one wanted predictions like the ones she gave?”

“I remember telling you that a while back, yes, on the way back to London in the stolen jeep.”

“Well then!” Crowley pulled him back, golden eyes meeting blue. “I think we should go and pester our human friends, what do you say?”

Aziraphale nearly jumped when the book was dropped loudly onto the coffee table in front of him, he also nearly lashed his tongue at Anathema for just dropping such a rare book like that! He decided just to give her a hard glare, but she just sat herself down, waving a hand at it. “There you go! Just as you had returned it to me!”

She then glared at Crowley who just smiled happily at her, wiggling his fingers as if waving. “Burnt and damaged.” She snipped.

“I apologized! I wasn’t really expecting my car to be completely set on fire like that! Besides, it survived, didn’t it?”

“Over three hundred and fifty years…” Anathema started, until Adam sat down between Crowley and Aziraphale, throwing open the book.

“So! What are we looking for in here?” The possibly-former-Antichrist asked as he tried to read through the old script from centuries ago.

Crowley and Aziraphale had made the drive to Tadfield and had stopped by without much of a warning at Jasmine Cottage. Anathema and Newt had been there, with Adam over because he wanted to borrow the newest issue of the New Aquarian from that month. He had gotten interested in what was going on when he heard the angel ask if Anathema knew of any prophesy meant to take place after the world was originally supposed to end.

“Anything that could do with what will save Crowley and me from dying a death worse than anything anyone in this room could ever imagine.” Aziraphale sighed as he took the book, setting it on his lap. Adam just looked away, leaning against him to do so.

“Didn’t this book, like, end when the world was ‘posed to?” He asked as he flipped a page, only for Aziraphale to flip it back.

Anathema leaned back in her seat, raising an eyebrow. “So, the forces of Heaven and Hell are really coming for you two? Why even give you guys a warning?”

“Because Heaven and Hell work like a business.” Crowley explained. “Basically, they gave us our pink slips.”

“Pink slips with the bonus message of ‘you’re going to die’, right?” Newt asked from where he stood, watching the group.

“Exactly!” Crowley smirked, but then frowning, crossing his arms. “This is serious, normally our old sides don’t usually do this sort of thing much nowadays, ain’t like it was during the days of the Old Testament, what with all the smiting and cursing, that sort of thing.”

“What we’ve done is very serious.” Aziraphale spoke up as he flipped another page, eyes scanning the writings. He frowned deeply, running a hand through his dark locks. “They’ve figured out what we’ve been doing for six thousand years, because we didn’t… really do much when it came to stopping the world’s end. That was basically you three.”

Newt tilted his head. “What have you two been doing for so long that they have to punish you?”

“Being in a relationship.” Crowley explained, only to get punched in the arm. “Ow! What the Heaven was that for!? Bless, angel, that hurt!”

Aziraphale glared daggers at him before straightening his back and tried to make himself look prim and proper, but that didn’t erase the smug look on his face as he saw Crowley rub his arm. “As my idiot friend here said, Crowley and I are in a bit of a relationship that isn’t really what angels and demons would like. We’re technically enemies, yes, but we’ve never really been enemies.”

“Not since Eden, but that didn’t last long, did it?” Adam spoke up and the two looked at him with wide eyes. “Oh, don’t look so surprised! I’m the Antichrist! I know all about you two!”

“How much do you know…?” Aziraphale asked, his face as red as Crowley’s tie.

“Just enough to know that you two like kissin’ and stuff.” He took the book from the angel and started flipping through the pages, trying to see if anything looked interesting. “Needs pictures…” He mumbled to himself, ignoring how mortified Aziraphale looked and Crowley wanting to get up and go sleep in a hole in the ground for the next three centuries.

Anathema cleared her throat. “R-right, well, I’m sure there might be something in the book. Oh, now I wish we hadn’t burnt Agnus’ second book…”

Aziraphale gasped loudly, taken out of his shock. This resulted in him and Anathema arguing about the book burning, with Newt trying to calm them both down. Crowley watched the chaos in front of him with interest, while Adam completely ignored them all.

The boy stopped on one prophesy near the end, tilting his head. “How about this one?” He asked, showing it to Crowley, as he knew he wouldn’t get the other three’s attention as easily.

Raising an eyebrow, Crowley lowered his shades as he looked over the prophesy. “’When alle is sayed and all is done, ye must choose your faces wiseley, for soon enouff ye will be playing with Fyre.’ Seems… interesting. What do you think?”

“I think…” Adam spoke, tapping his chin as if in thought, “I think you two might have to switch places.”

“What?”

“Well, this kinda reminds me of a time that me and The Them got into a bit of trouble and Brian and I both messed up but we took the blame for the other’s problem so that our parents wouldn’t punish us too badly and we’d just get a lecture from each other’s folks.”

Crowley sat there for a moment, pondering over this, ignoring the argument that was still happening, before he snapped his fingers, grinning. “Kid, I think you’re onto something! Angel, come on, we’ve got a plan!”

Aziraphale paused, mid rant, as he looked over at the demon and Antichrist. “What do you mean?”

Crowley took the book and approached the dark blond, showing him the passage. Anathema glanced over, blinking. “You think that’s meant for you two?”

“Did your ancestors ever figure out what it was for?” Newt asked.

“The notecard for it had two other ones stapled to it, no one could figure out what it meant, fit with too many things… it’s possible that it could be for you two.”

Aziraphale nodded at this. “Ah yes, I mean, Agnus did have one for me, knowing I was reading her book. She called me a foolish Principality.”

“Which you are.” Crowley replied, ignoring the look he got. “I think this is our best bet. Come along, angel, we’ve got work to do.”

He snapped the book shut, giving it to Anathema. He stepped over to Adam, giving him a thanks, before grabbing Aziraphale, pulling him along, ignoring his protests.

St. James’ Park was just as it always is on a day like this, beautiful, enjoyable, full of people just doing their normal things.

Aziraphale found Crowley standing in line at an ice cream vendor and he slipped over, moving to stand right the right of the man in dark clothing. He noticed that the other wasn’t really wearing his trainers today but made no comment. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Ah, same to you.” Crowley replied. “A strawberry lolly and a vanilla with a flake, yeah?”

The vendor nodded, getting their treats for them. Crowley glanced about before leaning closer to the other. “Anything at the shop?”

“Not a single feather or halo in sight. The flat?”

“Still empty, not even a burn or a note.”

Crowley took the treats, handing the ice cream cone to the more casually dressed man. “They’ll find us, they’re waiting for their moment to strike.”

Aziraphale frowned, giving his treat a taste as he stepped away, moving to walk with Crowley down a path they both knew well. “You don’t think they’re stupid enough to strike in broad daylight, do you?”

“Oh, I think they are.” Crowley sighed, almost dramatically. “They’re not subtle about things, not enough time spent on Earth to be so, what with how the texts have described our lots appearing to people in the past.”

“With too much flash and scaring the sh-” There was a muffled yelp and Crowley blinked, turning around sharply to see Aziraphale being pulled away towards a truck, used to pick up deck chairs around the park. He was suddenly bound and gagged with ropes and tape; blue eyes wide.

“S-Stop!” Crowley shouted, seeing that angels were dressed up as park employees, dragging the struggling man away.

He was shoved back by an angel he didn’t know, who smiled at him. “Best to take care of some unfinished business.”

Another suddenly appeared next to him, smiling as well. “Tied up with string, like a present.”

A blink of the eye, and they were gone, as was the truck and Aziraphale.

“N-no! Stop, give him back!” The dark-haired man shouted again, trying to find any evidence of them, only for there to be a sudden strike to head. He dropped like a rock to the pavement, his vision swimming as he looked to see a group of demons, grinning at him, dressed as humans.

“Oh… bugger.” He spoke before passing out.

The scent of Hell was dreadful, Crowley didn’t care much for it, never had, never will. It was so unclean, so much like the worst kinds of damp basements, with just the slightest hint of fermented shark.

He found himself standing before several high members of Hell, but only Beelzebub seemed to be the one with a voice here. The other demons, all Princes, he noted, were behind the Lord of the Flies, in their own seats, but not the throne like the terrifying demon before him was.

“Yo.” Crowley replied, giving a little salute. “How’s it goin’? Public kidnapping, I see, feels like the old days. Did we use to do that back before the fall of Rome, or am I remembering wrong?”

“Demon Crowley…” Beelzebub started, but Crowley seemed more interested in his train of thought.

“I was remembering wrong, yes, it was during the fourteenth century. Uhg, dreadful century that one was, so much death and such, disgusting. Ah, but it’s in high praises here, isn’t it? So many souls for Hell and such. Anyway, you’re putting me on trial?”

Beelzebub growled, though it sounded much more like a swarm of flies buzzing in a tin can. Crowley made a face as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yezzzz… you are on trial; do you know why?”

“Cause… I did a lot of stuff you didn’t care for?”

“Be zeriouzzzz!”

Crowley scoffed, straightening his back. “I am on trial, which I doubt is a trial, because I have made an arrangement with an angel, our enemy. I have done countless acts of both temptations and blessing because of it.” He ignored he hisses and snarls from the audience of Princes and lesser demons.

“And I have been in a relationship with the angel Aziraphale, Principality of the Eastern Gate of Eden, since Eden.” He replied. “Oh, and I killed two demons with holy water.”

This just caused more chaos from the audience, until Beelzebub turned and screamed at them to shut up. He turned and looked at Crowley, the was nothing but pure rage and disgust on his face. Crowley just stood his ground, and that only made his rage grow. “Demon Crowley, for what you have done… you will be punished.”

“I see, and I figured.” The dark-haired man replied, exposed eyes looking around. “So, what’s it gonna be? Eternity in the deepest pit? Having to be stuck continuously keeping the road of frozen door-to-door salesmen frozen, because that would suck, seeing as I’m the poor fool who made that road in the first place. Or is it going to be stuck on torture tryouts? Not really a fan of being the guy stuck having to be poked, prodded, and horrendously torn apart just to see if a new method of torture is worth it. Though I think, if I may make a suggestion, some of the stuff written own in Buddhist texts on hellish torment could be of use…”

“Zilence!” The Lord of Flies shouted, and Crowley snapped his mouth shut. “No, your punizhment will be none of that, all that will be like a walk in the park compared to what we have in mind for you. We’re going to eliminate you for good, as painfully as pozzible. Letting the punishment fit the crime.”

There was a heavy silence in the room and Crowley tensed up, smelling something, a strong sent getting close and closer. A door opened and Crowley stared at an angel, he knew them, everyone knew them. They were infamous to all demons and angels, an Archangel who also happened to be a Seraphim for having been the one to take down the ruler of demons.

“Michael.” Crowley hissed, eyes wide.

The angel Michael looked at him with a smile that was cold as the ninth circle of Hell. They didn’t say a word as they seemed to hold up a clear jug of something, the smell was obvious, so pure, so clean, something that not even an animal with the best nose in the world could pick up, but angels and demons knew it.

“Holy water…”

“The holiest.” Michael replied, smile still on their perfect face. It was then that Crowley noticed the bathtub in the room, when had that materialized? Michael approached it and tipped the jug, water pouring into it. The demons in the room gasped, keeping their distance. Crowley swallowed; hands clenched tight in his pockets.

The room was silent as Michael stood there, pouring the water in. But Crowley broke it when he looked at the angel. “How did you get roped into this?”

“We made a careful exchange, just for the occasion. Your ‘friend’ is dealing with one of yours from down here. Though, I’m sure he’s already been dealt with by now.”

“…” Crowley kept his mouth shut tight; his eyes focused on the water as it miraculously continued to pour from the vessel that clearly shouldn’t be holding that much water in it. What felt like hours was only a few minutes before the tub was full and Michael stepped away.

“I’ll return for it. And don’t worry, it’s real.” Michael spoke, dipping their fingers into the water, before flicking a bit at a demon guard who had been standing at the door, just in case Crowley tried to escape. The demon screamed, the scent of burning flesh in the air as his skin burned from just the little specks of holy water.

“… Lovely.” Crowley gulped.

“Any lazt wordz, traitor?” Beelzebub asked, looking down at him from his throne.

Crowley was quiet for a moment before loosening his tie. “Can I not do this in my suit? It’s really nice, don’t wanna ruin it, it’s still new.”

Aziraphale gently tugged at the ropes bound around his wrists, frowning when he felt them tighten up at the movement. Great, lovely, okay, perfect. He huffed, looking around at the polished, sterile look of the room he was in. Heaven was so terribly clean, plastic, it was like walking into a certain electronics brand store, only with a little more emotion to it.

He looked at the two figures before him, the Metatron, in all his bright, floaty glory. And an Archangel who Aziraphale really didn’t want to deal with, he was more annoying in person than he was through his stupidly stern letters and memos.

“Metatron. Gabriel.” Aziraphale greeted with his typical, smug, annoyed smile he saved for customers that he knew he’d win an argument with without too much effort.

“Aziraphale.” Gabriel replied, all prim and proper, his hair tied up without a stray hair in sight. Aziraphale wanted to punch him.

“DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU ARE HERE, AZIRAPHALE?” The Metatron spoke, his voice echoing even more so in the spacious room.

Aziraphale sighed loudly, rolling his eyes. “Why even ask? You know exactly why I am here, tied to a chair, which I might add is a little cliché. Also, does God know you’re doing this? Is He aware that you’ve got one of His warriors tied up?”

“Shut up.” Gabriel frowned. “And tell us why you’re here, we want to hear it from you.”

The dark blond sighed once more, flexing his fingers. “I am here because you have discovered that I have spent time with a demon, in more ways than one, especially in the biblical sense. I also tried to prevent Armageddon, performed both blessings and temptations, and I moved in with my demon.”

He got nasty looks for that last bit, but he just gave them his smug smile. “Is there anything else? I could go into excessive detail of all the things I’ve done that have really went against our so-called Heavenly doctrines, but then again, you guys have been changing those things so often it’s hard to tell nowadays, yes?”

“AZIRAPHALE, IT IS BEST YOU STOP TRYING TO FIGHT, YOU HAVE NO OPTIONS OTHER THAN DEATH TODAY.” The Voice of God spoke, staring the other down.

“I figured that was the case, not even going to delay this, yes? What is the death? Not even going to give me the option of a Fall?”

“Ha!” Gabriel grinned, narrowing his eyes. “You’d like for that, just so you could be with your demon! But that’s not going to happen, he’s probably dead now anyway!”

Aziraphale snapped his attention to the Archangel. “He’s dead?”

“Quite possibly, Hell doesn’t like to delay executions like that, especially for traitors like him. And we shall not prevent the end for you either, as you are just as much of a traitor to your kind as he is.”

There was a quiet pause from Aziraphale, closing his eyes before bowing his head. “Alright, I supposed we do not have much else to do but to accept our fates at this point, am I right?”

“YOU ARE.”

Aziraphale saw someone approach, a demon he didn’t recognize, must be a lesser one. Oh, wait, it was a disposable demon, not sure why Hell had them, but then again… yeah, no, it’s a good idea that Hell has them, or else Hell would have a lot less demons to punish for stupid reasons and for their army.

The demon was grinning, holding up a lantern, with a fire that had blue eyes widening. “Hellfire?”

“Oh yes,” The demon chuckled, too giddy about this, “from the hottest pit of Hell! The best, saved just for you!”

“Well…” He swallowed. “Guess treason gets the best of the best in terms of execution, the humans think the same with a sword to the back of the throat.”

Gabriel smiled; hands folded behind his back. “You’re right about that, you were such a smart angel, but also just a bit too stupid as well. Alright, let him have it.”

The ropes dropped suddenly and Aziraphale stood from his chair, stepping forward. The demon stood there, holding the lantern, opening the door. Aziraphale felt the heat from the fire before he turned to look at the Archangel and the Voice of God. He gave them a bright smile as he straightens out his sleeves and his bowtie.

“Well, lovely knowing you all. May we meet on a better occasion.”

“WE WON’T.” The Metatron replied. “IT’S HELLFIRE, IT WILL DESTROY YOU ABSOLUTELY AND UTTERLY AND FOREVER.”

“Now shut your stupid mouth and die already.” Gabriel smiled brightly, but it was strained.

Aziraphale stood there, giving a shrug, before the hellfire in the lantern suddenly flew out, engulfing the man in its flames.

The Princes and lesser demons watched on in horror at the sight before them, at the water that spilled over the edges of the old, dirty tub, of the pleased humming from the figure who sat inside of it.

They stared in pure terror as Crowley, pleased as peaches, relaxed in the holiest of holy waters. He was down to his boxers and a tank top, and, oddly enough, his socks. In one hand was a book, one he had been meaning to finish reading, the other flicking water about as he hummed a merry tune to himself.

“What is he doing…” One Prince asked his brother, trying to keep away from the drops of water that were flicked in their direction.

“I don’t know.” Beelzebub replied, eyes wide. “But he’z gone native!”

“Ah, this book is so good!” Crowley said with a pleased tone to his voice. “I’d recommend it to you lot, but I doubt any of you would appreciate Paradise Lost, you know?”

The door opened and Michael made their return. “I’m here for the…” Their bright eyes looked at the relaxing figure in the bath. “Oh Lord.”

Crowley glanced over, blinking, before grinning. “Michael! My good angel, would you be a dear and miracle me up a towel, that’s a good feather brain.” He chuckled when the angel handed him a fluffy towel that suddenly appeared in their hands.

Carefully, Crowley shifted, and the book vanished from his fingers as he looked at the demons and the lone angel. “I think that was one of the best baths I’ve ever had.” He commented, smiling happily.

He got out of the bath, rubbing himself down with the towel, miraculously becoming perfectly dry as it passed over his skin. He finished and stood there, looking at the scared and uncomfortable crowd.

“Well then,” His smile was smug, nearly cat-like, “I bet you’re thinking to yourself ‘if he can handle this, what else can he handle? What can his angel do?’”

There was a silence in the air, and he shrugged, moving to get dressed with a snap of his fingers, once more in his dark clothes, straightening up his red tie. “I think it would be for the best if we are left alone in the future. Don’t you?”

Beelzebub and Michael both silently nodded as Crowley flashed them a grin, putting his shades over his eyes, stepping towards the door, dropping the towel on the Archangel’s shoulder.

“Beautiful! Just lovely! Well then, so long!”

The Metatron, Gabriel, and the lesser demon stared in shock and terror as Aziraphale stood in the fire without any trouble, in fact, it almost appeared as if he was enjoying it as one would enjoy a nice, hot shower after a long day.

He cracked his neck and turned to look at them. He smiled before throwing back his head and spewing hellfire at the two celestial beings, who were quick to back away in fear. Gabriel yelped when his suit nearly caught on fire.

Aziraphale smirked, his grin almost devilish.

“HE’S… NOT ONE OF US ANYMORE.” The Metatron spoke, his echoing voice nearly shaking.

Gabriel nodded numbly and gestured for the demon to close the door for the lantern. The fires died quickly and Aziraphale stood there, gently dusting soot off of his shift and coat. “Luckily for you, this didn’t burn.” He commented, his cold, blue eyes on the two angels.

He then brightened up and chuckled. “It seems that not even Heaven’s strongest punishment can work on me, how interesting. So, what happens now?”

“WE HAVE NO CHOICE… BUT TO LET YOU GO.”

“Smart move there.” He adjusted his bowtie once more, stepping away from the three as he made his way for the elevator, throwing a hand up over his shoulder with a small wave. “Ciao!”

The elevator dropped down to the main floor, just as the elevator next to it rose up to the same floor. Aziraphale stepped out of his, turning to look at Crowley who was walking with a relaxed swagger, turning to face his companion.

“Now that was playing with fire.” Aziraphale said in a tone that was not his usual one.

“Seems you were right.” Crowley replied, his voice lighter in tone, the smile on his face like that of a cat that ate the canary.

They found themselves on a bench in Berkeley Square, keeping an eye out for anyone who was not human. Crowley sat, straight back and rather proper, hands on his lap. Aziraphale was to his left, leaning back, a leg crossed over the other.

“Do you think they’ll leave us alone for good now?” Aziraphale asked, looking at the man sitting next to him.

“Hmm… at a guess, they’ll pretend it never happened.” Snake eyes looked around. “Right, anyone looking?”

Aziraphale shook his head after a quiet pause, holding out his hand. “Nobody. Right, swap back then?” He smirked as Crowley took his hand and the world around them froze.

It took just seconds in that frozen bubble for Crowley’s clothes to change to that of a tan coat, tartan bowtie, and a blue shirt and tan pants. His dark locks changing to dirty blond, styled much differently. The face was completely different, and the eyes were much more human-like in appearance.

Aziraphale’s own clothing choice became black, with the bowtie becoming a crimson tie, his dress shoes now dirty, red trainers. His hair was black, slicked back, and blue eyes became those of a snake.

They were themselves once more, no longer wearing the faces of their counterpart. Crowley cracked his neck as Aziraphale shook himself out, reaching up to remove the dark shades from his face, handing them to the demon. “Why’d you make me wear dress shoes?” Crowley asked, happy to be in his more comfortable pair.

“Because I have standards, and I didn’t want to wear those old things.” Aziraphale replied as time started up again.

Crowley shrugged, scooting closer, wrapping an arm around the angel. “Right, well, now that we aren’t dying today and we are back in London… might I tempt you to a spot of lunch?”

Aziraphale looked at him, chuckling. “Hmm… well, temptation accomplished! Ah, you know what, I do suspect that a table for two just opened up at the Ritz, my who expected that! Must be a miracle!”

He rose from the bench, taking Crowley’s hand as the two of them walked down the path to make their way to their favorite place. Today calls for a celebration, neither of them died, Heaven and Hell fear them, and they know they’ll be left alone to live out their immortal lives without the trouble of nosy bosses.

And what better way than a date at the Ritz.

END

I made a few minor changes to the trials, simply because I really didn’t want to write for a lot of characters, and because I took some inspiration from the script book for it.

I also really like how much more cocky and snarky Radio Aziraphale and Crowley are, they really are that smug, especially Aziraphale.

I should note that I kept mentioning Aziraphale as a dirty blond, or a dark blond, cause I really can’t tell what color his hair is! I’ve seen pictures of his actor and some images have dark hair, others have a lighter tone, I know it’s the lighting, but it’s the same thing as Michael Sheen’s eyes being hazel/blue/gray in different lights, so for the sake of Good Omens... he’s got dark blond hair, nearly brown.

Thanks for reading!

Also, one-shot and drabble requests are always opened on my tumblr, and if you send me a prompt, especially for these two, I’ll see what I can do.

#good omens #radio omens #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #ineffable husbands #john's drabbles #long post

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