#the time to write. meanwhile i wrote 5k+ words while i was supposed to be reading up on particle physics

[unbreakabledawn]

WIP Wednesday - Superbat edition: “Tidal Lock”

i survived ✨exam szn✨ and i'm excited to Sleep and Write (hopefully). “Tidal Lock” (tentative title) is a multi-chapter Superbat fic that sees Bruce and Clark in the start of their newly established romantic relationship. dating is hard enough on its own, not to mention the added difficulty of vigilantism, hero work, and all the other intricacies of Bruce Wayne’s and Clark Kent’s complex lives. these two lovesick idiots are very determined to make it work, though. it goes pretty well. maybe too well? due to to some unforeseen complications they have Kryptonian biology to thank for, Bruce and Clark have to deal with more than they bargained for.

i hope to to start posting soon, BUT i really think it would benefit from a second/third set of eyes first, so if this fic sounds interesting to you and you’d like to beta (no prior experience needed) or you’d like more info before deciding, please let me know! my DMs are open here or i can be reached on discord @ ziranos

(fic excerpt at 1k words, rated T for references to canon-typical violence)

Frankly, it had been the best first date of Bruce Wayne’s life, though he regrets the circumstances that had led up to it. Because if it hadn’t been for Clark’s near-death experience, they might not ever have made it to a first date. It was not the first time he had nearly died, or the second, or the third—Bruce has lost count at this point, but it is undoubtedly the closest he’d been in recent memory. Which is a little absurd when you consider that Clark had actually and literally died once, but they had been so young then, not as close, and too dumb. And Clark had come back, that was an important detail to remember. 

Bruce had probably been harsher than he should have been, swearing and yelling where he had leaned over Clark, both hands at the kryptonite knife in his chest. It was a serrated blade, and he knew for every second he hesitated the mineral was seeping into Clark’s body, killing his cells with painful intensity. The knife was wickedly sharp and cut through the gauntlet when he gripped the blade with one hand and the handle with the other, to pull it out as straight as possible. 

It had torn an agonized scream from Clark’s lungs, wet from the blood in his throat and mouth, when Bruce yanked the knife out in one swift and sure motion and tossed it as far away as he possibly could. He pressed against the hole in Clark’s chest to staunch the bleeding from the wound that was already trying to close—the only vaguely fortunate thing about that hellish day had been the weather and the merciless rays of the sun bearing down upon them in the middle of the ruined street in uptown Metropolis. But Clark still needed the kryptonite residue rinsed from his system and to be put in a sunbed as fast as possible.

Clark was coughing up blood, delirious from K-exposure and his unfamiliarity with pain, weakly trying to lift a hand to where Bruce’s hands pushed at his chest, smeared with both their blood. The biohazardous implications were lost on him because he had, for the briefest moment, thought that this was it, that this was the last time he’d see the life in Clark’s eyes and hear the breaths in his chest, as much as they struggled.

But Clark was as stubborn at living as he was at everything else. After he’d been cleared from the medbay, their argument had been as vicious as it was habitual, something about unnecessary risks and recklessness. Bruce had said a lot of things, none of which he could remember, because he had felt Clark’s blood grow dry and tacky on his ruined gloves and on the exposed skin of his fingers before he could wash it off, and he couldn’t hear his own voice over the memory of Clark’s panicked breathing and the gurgle of blood in his throat.

Later that night, he’d gone to Clark’s apartment to apologize. Instead, he’d yelled at him, kissed him, and asked him out (not necessarily in that order). Clark had inexplicably said yes and kissed him back. Bruce was a little fuzzy on the details. That might have been the kissing, or he might just have been losing his mind a little.

He never did apologize. Maybe he should. At the time he’d been blinded by the fear of almost having lost Clark, so struck by the realization that he could not actually go another fucking second without Clark knowing how Bruce felt about him, without having him. Because if Clark had died, he’d have died without knowing, and Bruce would have had to live the rest of his life with the crushing regret of everything that he now knew he could have with him.

And here’s Clark now, sneaking in through the window of Bruce’s office like some teenager past curfew, clad in creased red plaid and with his hair tousled by flight, arms full of—pie forms? He glides over to press a kiss to Bruce’s temple, followed by a waft of cinnamon and caramelized sugar. There’s the smell of baked apples and spices he recognizes as Martha Kent’s apple pie recipe.

“What is that?” Bruce says, trying not to be too obvious in staring at the exposed skin above Clark’s collar and the way the muscles of his throat flex when he pulls away and straightens.

“Dessert. It’s called pie. Hello to you, too.”

“Alfred’s cooking, you didn’t need to bring anything.”

“Yes, Alfred is cooking for a near dozen people, most of which are at peak physical condition. I asked him if I could bring anything, because I am a nice dinner guest. Well, I first asked if I could help cook, and he very politely told me to stay out of his kitchen.”

That does sound like Alfred, and Bruce’s alarm rapidly increases. “Since when do you and Alfred talk behind my back.”

“Hmm. How long have you and I known each other? I’ll go drop these off downstairs,” he says, a sunny smile on his face, before disappearing out the door.

What a worrying development. Bruce is not at all interested in learning about the combined capabilities of those two. He should go downstairs and intercept Clark, as soon as—

Bruce blinks down at his paperwork. He’s barely gotten through the first report, lost in thought as he’s been. Well, they’re papers, they’re not going anywhere.

Especially not when Clark reappears in the doorway, relaxed and casual in the way he’s obviously casing Bruce like a particularly enticing appetizer. He strolls over, keen gaze pinning Bruce to his chair.

“Dinner will be a while,” Clark says and spins Bruce’s chair around so he can lean over him with his hands on the armrests. “I have a few ideas on how to pass the time.”

“Do you, now,” Bruce says, appreciating the slow smile that spreads across Clark’s face, a smile that widens to full radiance once Clark hears what Bruce’s heart does at the sight. He leans in with a kiss that tastes sweet in a way that has nothing to do with Martha Kent’s pie, warm and soft against Bruce’s mouth.

“Lock the door and tell me about these ideas of yours,” Bruce murmurs.

[blueprint-han]

It's so hard being an sfw writer tbh you don't get asks, barely get comments, and lately notes on sfw fics have been RIDICULOUSLY low. I see some amazing fics that must've taken forever with 5k+ words get a mere 30 notes. Meanwhile I've seen some 50 word horny paragraph with fluff tags get over a 100. And there's nothing wrong with that, I'm not trying to shame smut, but it gets hard sometimes when you feel like nothing you write is going to get anywhere.

Yes !! Honestly, the fandom is getting super horny at this point. Now, I'm once again, not mocking smut readers or writers, because I have no right neither control over what you desire to read, but slowly, sfw writers are basically feeling disconnected from the fanfiction fandom, and why shouldn't they? I've seen fics with 8k or more words, or even the shorter ones, with amazing plots and such intricate storylines get like,,, 23 notes, while one 50 word smut snippet gets a 100 notes a day. Like you said, I'm not shaming the readers for what they want to read but like,,,, I feel like this whole fandom is slowly becoming more of a smut liking majority, at least of Tumblr.

Is that a bad thing? It is for me, because the fics I, or any sfw writer puts so much effort into (not implying that smut writers don't put effort but you get what I mean) basically get like 🤏🏻 many notes, all of them likes with the occassional reblog and once in a blue moon, you'll see tags that aren't "rec!" Or "skz fluff". Is it a bad thing in general? No, because I like I said, I seriously have no say neither control on what someone wants to read, nor do I want to have any.

I've seen many smut writers support sfw fics by reblogging them and all, but the tags abuse is another thing people fail to understand. I'll accept it from my side too, we put our fics into the smut tags for more reco, at least I used to. But when smut writers tag their mature stuff into the fluff tags, their basically ripping us the tiniest amount of recognition we get. All the top fics in the smut tags are Smuts, when I know purely sfw fics that deserve to be in their place in the fluff/angst tags. I've explained and explained but so far, I haven't seen one writer implement it into their tagging system. 😐

I believe every interaction works in two ways. We, the creators, create content. The consumers are supposed to consume and give feedback. To all the people who simply like on people's posts, you're basically telling them "hey I liked this but I'd rather not share it :D" it's demotivating and I hope the like only trend dies. Keep in mind I'm talking about people who only like, not those who don't enjoy my fics in the first place. The consumer may say "but dawnnnn, you're writing for yourself, not for others !!"

If I wrote only, just for myself I wouldn't be publishing my work here. 😐 I know it's my hobby, but I post my stuff here to get recognition on them, feedback and improve my writing. Not going to lie, as a person who's shifted from nsfw stayblr, I can feel the thirst for validation that sfw stayblr has, because most of y'all don't give one shit about us. 😐 There, I said it. Keep in mind I said "most", not "all". (Also not addressed to you in anyway anon).

And well, there will be a time, when this whole Tumblr fandom is basically just smut and no more sfw writers, because we are literally giving so much for so little. Before you attack me, I'm not saying smut isn't something that's written easily. It takes time, it also takes heavy plotting, but we can all see the clear difference an nsfw fic gets with respect to an sfw fic with the same concept, same member. Basically, sfw stayblr is slowly dying, and that's the reason I try to rb most of the stuff I find on sfw stayblr, because the writers here? They're amazing, they put so much work into the stories (again not saying smut writers don't) and they are literally dying for a bit of validation that'll bring them joy.

It does feel like all too much for too little, to be honest. I'm fine with smut being here, but the lack of people who even bother to bat an eyelash at sfw content is honestly baffling. Thank you for attending my rant.

[theangriestpea]

In the Shadows : Twelve

Summary: Jughead Jones, resident werewolf, just wants to protect his family and his pack from the incoming doom of The Red Circle. Sweet Pea and Lily join him to help keep the Southside safe from human tyranny. Meanwhile a demon princess named Myra and succubus named Lavender had a plan to bring on the apocalypse. <ao3> <masterlist> <playlist>

Rating: Mature // Explicit

Pairings: Jughead Jones x OC, Sweet Pea x OC, Kurtz x OC

Warnings:  Very minor character death, kidnapping??, mentions of forced prostitution/sex slavery

Word Count: 5k+

A/N:  This took SO LONG for me to write. i was just very stuck for the longest time. But now I think I've got some good ideas for the future of this fic! I will likely be updating this series once a month from here on out as I am going back to work and will not have as much time to write. Apologies for that in advance! I wrote so much during the last three months though that the break will be a little nice.

Chapter Twelve : The Descent

“I’m not going to let it happen, Shanna.” Sweet Pea said as him and his soulmate argued for the dozenth time. Lavender was convinced that he’d keep his loyalty with his coven and not with her. That he’d willingly give up their child to honor the deal that Lily had made.

Sweet Pea had no intention of doing anything of the sort. While, yes, he had once aligned himself fiercely with Lily and that witches were more powerful together, she had spurned him too greatly this time. He loved Daisy with every fiber of his being and he fully intended on loving his second daughter with the exact same ferocity. As of now there was no one who he was more devoted to than the hybrid, but he was getting increasingly aggravated by her insinuation that he wasn’t.

Lavender was quiet, hand on her stomach as she continued to fear the worse. She trusted Sweet Pea, of course she did, however there was just this nagging feeling in the back of her mind that he was going to betray her. That she needed to get out while she could. That keeping herself rooted in Riverdale was a grave mistake especially now that The Red Circle had put a target on her back.

Feeding was becoming more and more dangerous. While she could disguise her identity with ease, disposing of bodies without the help of the Jones pack was becoming difficult. Before she never spent enough time in one place to really bother with the cover-up. She hadn’t realized when she decided to stay that life would keep throwing curve-balls. Her only saving grace was that Riverdale was the murder capital of the world. People died all the time under suspicious circumstances. Unfortunately the supernatural were the ones always blamed for the inexplicable deaths.

The more she showed, the more difficult it would be. She could only alter herself, she couldn’t alter the child within her. Whatever form she took would be showing just as much as she was, and while at eight weeks that wasn’t much it wouldn’t stay that way for much longer.

Sweet Pea parted the blinds with his fingers to peer outside. He had been expecting Lily and Jughead to show up all day. That night there would be a full moon. In order to keep the pack safe, they would need both Sweet Pea and Lavender to cast a spell strong enough to cover the entire. Lily was stronger now, sure, but not strong enough yet to do it all on her own.

Lavender was not on the side of helping. She thought the forest should just burn. Along with everyone else inside of it. Sweet Pea, on the other hand, feared for the safety of his first born. While he knew that Lily would protect her with her life, he still didn’t like the idea of her life being in danger in the first place.

And though Lavender adored Daisy and didn’t want any harm to come to her, she was fiercely upset with Lily too much at the moment to even want to see her face. Sweet Pea was missing his daughter more now than ever. He hadn’t seen her since the pact because Lily had taken her and they currently weren’t on speaking terms. He knew he’d have to break down eventually and call her or else risk ruining the relationship he had with Daisy.

“She threw our child away, Pea, why do we need to help her protect the forest?” Lavender asked, becoming increasingly frustrated with him. “I just don’t understand why you still want to cater to someone who was going to just give away your child.”

“It’s deeper than that, and you know it.” Sweet Pea said, his own aggravation starting to show. “They’ll come here too. They may take you next time instead of Lily.”

The demoness frowned. “You know that Myra would not let any harm come with this child. Not when she is so important to her.” Lav responded. “If they did take me, then they wouldn’t kill me. They’d let me live out the rest of my pregnancy at least.”

“And then what?” He snapped back, “They take her and kill you when you’re weak from giving birth? Then I lose both of you.” He wish she could understand how her carelessness was hurting him just as much as Lily’s stupid pact did.

Lav was quiet. She hadn’t quite thought that far ahead. Him being right for once did not make her feel any better about what he was asking of her. “Then we run away. We go somewhere else entirely.”

“And leave Daisy?” Sweet Pea asked, his tone turning harsh. “I’m not going to do that, she’s my daughter.”

She let out a frustrated sigh, clearly nothing she was going to come up with was going to satisfy him. The only path he saw was helping Lily which Lavender absolutely was not going to do. “Then you help her, Sweet Pea. You two can do it by yourselves. I need to go feed anyway.” She got up and went into their bedroom to get ready to go out as the witch fumed with fury in the living room still. He grabbed his keys and went to take his bike to the cottage.

When he arrived at his old home, he noticed the wind seemed to be picking up already. He figured Lily was working on conjuring another storm. Rain allowed for the hardiest of protection spells. It was easier to transmute magic through water rather than through air. The polar properties made it the best particularly for barrier spells. It would rain again tonight, he was sure of it.

He didn’t knock, just entered through the door and slammed it behind him. “Daddy!” He heard his little girl squeal as she ran to greet him, clinging to his leg tightly. He couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across his features as he bent down to pick her up.

Jughead approached him cautiously. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.” He murmured, not wanting to feel the witch’s wrath. It was harder to contain his own visceral emotions so close to the full moon. “She’s already set up.”

Sweet Pea nodded his head silently as he walked into the living room. He saw there were places set for three. “She’s not coming.” He said as Daisy babbled on in his arms in some unknown language.

A hurt look crossed Lily’s face. She had hoped to try and patch things up with her friend, maybe make some kind of peace offering. However, she should have known better. If someone had bartered with Daisy, then she’d be on a warpath too. What she did was unfair, but she had been backed into a corner. What was she supposed to do? Really?

“I’m sorry,” She said softly, not sure what else to really say. Her best friend wouldn’t even look at her. He simply stared at the middle of the sigil on the floor. Sweet Pea knew he’d have to forgive her eventually, for Daisy’s sake, but right now he just wasn’t ready to take that step.

“I know.” Was all he said back, unable to articulate through his anger towards not only Lily but also towards Lavender. She was acting so selfishly but he could not get through to her no matter what. She was hell bent on doing things her own way, including how she gathered souls. He found spell work he could do to make something close to what Myra had made. It wouldn’t be as powerful and he wouldn’t use innocent souls, but it would be better than her risking her life going out every night.

She couldn’t give up the hunt. Not yet, it seemed. She was determined to do it without help, saying that it would be a waste of his magic. That he needed to reserve it in case of an attack. His reserves were filled to the brim now that they were together, now that their souls were together. He didn’t need to save anything when all he needed to refill them was to fuck her.

But she insisted over and over that Myra wouldn’t let anything happen to her. That Myra would protect her. That she didn’t have to worry. But where the hell was Myra when she was stabbed? When she almost died before Lily could save her? If she was so great, then why did they bother releasing her soul in the first place?!

Sweet Pea set Daisy down as he got into place, taking a seat on a small cushion. It was going to be a long night.

Lavender was on the Northside, looking like a pretty little redhead with nowhere to go. She walked into a bar and ordered a virgin drink, something that looked as though it could pass for alcoholic. The hungrier she was, the less control she had over her influence. The bar seemed to be flooded with men. Men that all seemed to want a piece of her .

They offered to buy her drinks, offered phone numbers and pick-up lines. However, none seemed to quite suit her fancy. At least, no single one. She needed more tonight. One soul just simply wouldn’t do. She was growing a child, after all.

She settled on two men that were somehow linked with The Red Circle. One would only call himself Moose and the other was a rather smooth talking fuck-boy named Chuck. While neither were really her type, jocks, she figured that beggars simply couldn’t be choosers.

They took her to a nearby pay-per-hour motel where Chuck graciously paid for a room. For once in her life, Lavender had no desire to have sex. Whether it was from the sadness of losing her friend or the intense love she felt for Sweet Pea, she wasn’t sure. The only thing that kept pressing her forward was the simple demonic drive to feed. Maybe she should have let Sweet Pea try that spell after all...Maybe she could be at home with a cup of tea in bed instead of in this bug infested room.

But the stars and moon were just right tonight, Lav could feel it perfectly in her soul. She wouldn’t need to bed these two. She could force out their souls through sheer will, and while that wasn’t nearly as fun it was just as effective.

Lavender smiled at the two, grabbing each by the wrist before letting her eyes fade to black. They two instantly attempted to pull from her, but were unable to break free from her grip. Lavender reached out with her energy and forcibly yanked their souls away from their mortal tether, taking them into herself through their skin-to-skin contact.

While the two did not die from the soul removal, they did fall unconscious from the force of it. Lavender pondered whether or not to kill them. True, they were outlying members of The Red Circle, however they were in no positions of power. Though, she figured two less meatheads to carry torches and pitchforks would be better overall.

She slipped a pocket knife out from the inside of her purse and slid it open. In a quick, sweeping motion, she slit the throats of both men before painting a message on the nicotine stained wall. If Archie Andrews wanted a war. Then he’d have a war.

As she left the motel, having carefully cleaned her hands of blood, she noticed that the air seemed...different. There was a kind of static electricity about it that she couldn’t quite pinpoint. True, she knew the witches would conjure a storm to protect the southside with, however she was north of the tracks. It shouldn’t be able to reach this far. There would be no reason for her to sense magical energy on the Northside. Not when magic was strictly prohibited here.

She knew she needed to get home fast. While she had taken a new face, somehow Archie had seen through her last time. If she ran into him then he may be able to do it again. While she was sure Myra would somehow keep the minimum protections around the child, that didn’t stop her from letting the human stab her the other week.

The demon princess needed the apocalypse to happen, and for that she needed Lavender. In theory she could always have another child if she were to lose this one (Satan forbid), she herself could not be replaced. And hybrids weren’t a common occurrence.

Lavender just had the sinking feeling that she wasn’t as safe as she thought she was. It suddenly occurred to her that there was nothing stopping Myra from just taking what she wanted. Whisking her off to hell and forcing her to sit alone in a cell, force fed innocent souls, until she gave birth. It wasn’t as if anyone could rescue her there. Taking a physical being out of the realm that was the underworld was virtually impossible for anyone besides a high ranking demon.

The intensity of the air intensified and Lavender felt her senses go into overdrive. Every small change of environment was making her jump. As she attempted to make her way back to her home, she noticed that the atmosphere seemed to get more and more dense. It was becoming harder to breathe and storm clouds completely blocked out the setting sun.

Crackles of energy were starting to surround her, tiny flecks of light that acted as a window into another dimension. A dimension that only her soul seemed to recognize. She fought to avoid them. No one else around her seemed to even see it. The rifts became more and more prominent until the fabric of reality appeared to tear right before her eyes and static overwhelmed her, shooting through her body while she was plunged into darkness.

Everything went cold and black. She couldn’t even see her breath condense in front of her face as every source of light disappeared until a small blue flame budded and blossomed to her left. Once it was bright enough, her eyes adjusted and Lavender found herself in a freezing jail cell with solid metal walls.

An illusion? Lavender wondered to herself as she dared to touch the seamless wall that the torch appeared to be attached to. It didn’t feel like magic. It felt familiar somehow in some way. Something was chilling about this place. Not just the lower temperature but just the heaviness that seemed around it.

“Welcome home, Shoshanna.”

Miles away, deep within Fox Forrest, Sweet Pea’s concentration suddenly broke as he felt something ethereal being ripped away from him. The air was knocked from his chest as the knowledge of what this feeling meant swept over him.

A cry erupted from him as he stood, unable to stop the tears that flooded his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. She was gone. Completely and totally gone. Their bond was completely broken and he no longer felt any connection to the love of his life.

Lily could feel a fraction of his pain as terror struck her deeply. She gasped for air, wishing that Jughead were here to help them. Sweet Pea’s pain was so incredible that his magical energy totally stunted. The spell was broken and the forest was no longer a safe haven.

“Sweet Pea!” She yelped, attempting to bring him out of whatever personal hell he had been sent into at the sudden loss of his mate. “We have to protect the forest! For Daisy!” She cried, trying to get through to him in some way.

But all Sweet Pea could think about was his unborn daughter. The little girl that never even made it out. She was gone just as Lavender was and his fractioning mind couldn’t think of a way to bring either of them out. The worst came over him, the sheer dread that they were dead. If he could find them, maybe he could resurrect them. Maybe he could give his soul for him. Maybe-

Lily attempted to regain her strength as she invoked the spell one more time. To cover the entire forest, she had to spread herself incredibly thin. It wasn’t nearly as strong as she needed it to be, but it was something. She needed him more than ever but there was a phenomenon that deeply depressed witches lost their connection to their magic. It was possible that he couldn’t help her.

Rage filled the witch as he punched anything that got into his way, trashing the living room as Lily continued to work. He screamed to his patrons, begging for them to bring her back or to take him instead. Anything to not feel the way he was currently feeling.

Daisy hid under her bed, afraid of the tornado that was currently her father. She whimpered as she curled tightly into a ball, trying her best to make herself invisible so as to not be hurt even by accident.

Lily was pulled between trying to calm the bull and trying to save the forest. Unfortunately her loyalty laid fully with her daughter as she dropped what she was doing. She sprung up from her place on the floor and grabbed Sweet Pea by the arm, forcing her white magic into him in an attempt to calm him.

His incoherent screaming ceased as she brought him back to reality. The reality that was just too painful for him to bear in the moment. “She wouldn’t kill her,” Lily said in an attempt to lessen his pain. “She’s not dead, you know that. She’s just hidden somewhere from us.”

He furiously wiped his tears and snot away, not wanting anyone to see him in such a disastrous state. “I shouldn’t have let her go alone.” He said through heavy puffs of air. “I should have followed after her like I always do. Or make her come here. Oh god, why didn’t I-”

“Pea,” Lily said, forcing more magic into him. “You were trying to protect Daisy and me, it’ll be okay. We’ll get her back as soon as we can locate her, okay? Myra needs that baby more than anything in the entire world and the only one that can bring it to term is Lavender. She would get nothing if she killed her.”

Sweet Pea stared at her, “what if she thinks I chose you over her?” He asked, beginning to feel numb from his loss. “She will hate me.”

“She will not think that.” Lily consoled. “She will know that you needed to protect Daisy. I’m sure she’s more worried about getting out of whatever situation she’s in. If anything this is my fault for offering her up on a silver platter to begin with.”

He was silent, unable to counter that. He did still blame Lily for making the agreement she had made, however none of them could have expected for this to be the outcome. Lily returned to her spot, determined to try and still protect the pack with what energy she had left while Sweet Pea went to fetch Daisy to make sure she knew everything would be alright.

“Lavie?” She whimpered as he pulled her out from under the bed. His heart felt as though it had fallen deep down inside of his chest. All he could do was hold Daisy close as he tried his best not to cry again.

Three days passed on the mortal realm, and with each one Sweet Pea became more and more weary. He didn’t eat, he barely slept, and most of his time was spent hunched over a desk, speed reading through magical manuscripts on how to look through a magical veil. How to locate someone who had been hidden from all normal sights. He was tempted, so tempted to offer his soul back to Asmodeus for the return of his soulmate. The only thing stopping him was Lily’s reminder of how much he had hurt both of them during the time he was soulless. He couldn’t expect her to stay with him if he abused her any more than he already had.

It was late afternoon when Lily called him with somewhat good news. She had managed to locate the hybrid in a deep part of Hell. However, pulling a physical being out of one realm and placing them into another took a lot of magic. A lot of black magic that Sweet Pea just didn’t have.

And that is where Jughead Jones came in. There was a member of the pack that needed to be taken care of. Punishment for something terrible that he had done. While pure souls were more sought after, typically any old one would do in a pinch. If they offered one life for another, then a trade could be made with a demon other than Myra. It would give them enough leverage to get into Hell and get Lavender out.

But who to call upon was the problem. The decision was left to Sweet Pea. While in the past he had obviously catered to Asmodeus, another prince could be called upon to enact a trade. Sweet Pea had chosen Asmodeus as he used sex magic to fulfill his needs. Invoking the demon of lust to give him power through his sexual conquests. It was only fitting for him to have taken Sweet Pea’s soul through the very thing he used to gain power.

But Myra was his daughter. And she was acting on his will. Asmodeus wanted Lavender in his clutches (she was a sex demon after all, the epitome of a lust-filled being) just as much if not more than the blonde princess.

He would need someone of equal power that would take a soul of any condition. As he drove to the cottage, he knew who it had to be. He would offer this rogue wolf to Prince Mammon, the embodiment of greed.

He parked his bike out front before going inside. This was perhaps the most dangerous thing he had ever done in terms of magic. The need to see his lover again somehow overpowered the incredible amount of anxiety he felt. He walked in, seeing a tall and bulky man tied to one of the wooden kitchen chairs. Lily must have cast a silencing spell on him, as his lips were moving furiously but no sound was coming out.

Sweet Pea wore a dark expression on his face as he slipped off his leather jacket before pulling off his flannel shirt and white tank top. Lily picked up a jar of paint that had been colored black with mountain ash. She began to paint different runes across his torso, embedding her protective white magic into the symbols to help keep him safe when he went into hell.

“Who did you decide to call upon?” She asked, her voice a low whisper as if the question itself was forbidden. Sweet Pea had done plenty of idiotic things when it came to magic, but this was an entirely new level. She feared for his safety more than Lavender. Even a half-demon could survive hell. A human, witch or otherwise, could not. He’d need to be swift.

“Mammon.” Sweet Pea replied gruffly, knowing she would not like that answer. Lily stiffened, her touch slackening against his pectoral. Green eyes stared up at him, full of worry and doubt. If he didn’t know any better then he would have thought he saw love in there too. Jughead also seemed to notice and let out a small, feral growl in return.

Lily glanced at her mate before shaking her head. She really didn’t need him being possessive at a time like this. “There, it’s done.” She said, choosing not to comment on what she felt was a bad choice in demons. Not that there were any good ones they could call upon. She placed an old brass compass in his hand. “This will lead you to her. If you lose focus, then so will the needle. Your soul should be able to sense her once you’re there. You won’t have much time so you’ll need to hurry.”

She paused, looking back up at him as her hands trembled. “Pea, he’s going to ask for more. You know that, right? One wolf will not be enough. You do this once, he will want you to do it again and again.”

His expression steeled, “I’ll give him whatever the fuck he wants if it gets me Shanna and our daughter back.”

“And if he wants the apocalypse?” She dared to ask.

“Then the world as we know it will burn.” He replied, completely stoic.  

Lily heaved a heavy sigh. The whole point of this was to stop the world from ending, but she couldn’t deny him this. She couldn’t stand to see him spiral downward anymore. This had to be done regardless of consequences.

They took each other’s hands, closing their eyes as Sweet Pea began to chant. He called for Mammon, told him to take this wolf as sacrifice to do as he pleased, and in return to open a gateway to hell.

The cottage shook as Jughead held Daisy protectively in his arms. His hair stood on end as the air pressure within the room started to increase. There was an infernal pop along with a gusting of air that came with the flapping of wings.

The witches opened their eyes to see a tall man with shaggy beard and hair. His eyes were clouded as if he were blind, however both witches knew fully well that he could see just fine. His black feathered wings pulled in close to his body, partially shielding him as he observed the scene in front of him. The tarnished crown on his head was lopsided as if it had been placed there without care. The only thing glittering on it were the rare gemstones fastened within the blackened metal.

He peered upon them with his glossy eyes. “My, my, if it isn’t Asmodeus’ little headaches.” He said, clearly amused by the two mortals that had been giving his brother such a hard time. “Offering me just one puny soul for the entrance to hell? Do you not know how to temp the god of greed?”

“I will give you whatever you desire, Mammon.” Sweet Pea spoke distinctly. The only defensive power he had over the demon was the knowledge of his name. “I must get her back.”

“The little succubus.” He mused out loud, “pretty little thing. Apparently, my brother plans to pimp her out after she’s brought about the end of times. Something about demons loving a mortal that can take their damned cocks.” He waved his hand around as he spoke, as if he were conjuring his words with the motions. “I have to admit, I am a little jealous. How much more rich he could become using her.”

Sweet Pea sneered. “Well, he can’t have her. I’ll make sure of that.”

Mammon gave him an amused look, sizing him up as if he were nothing but a fragile puppy. “It is always sad when the faithful lose faith, isn’t it?” He probed. “Once so devoted to Asmodeus and now here you are, at my feet, begging for my help to strong arm my brother into giving you back your love. It would be amusing if it weren’t so damn tragic.”

Lily had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Their offering wasn’t nearly enough to appease him. It was all that they could manage. Why in hell’s name did he choose the demon on greed? She wished she could stop this, however she knew that it was too late. Mammon would not leave without taking his fill.

“Are you going to help or not?” Sweet Pea asked, a fire raging in his eyes as his hands clenched tightly over Lily’s making her wince in pain. “Or should I call someone else?”

“Oh no, dark witch. I will help. You see, I want what Asmodeus has. In fact, I want it all . And you can help me, small mortal. I’ll find a use for you, I’m sure. Give me time to think. I will take this soul and body back to hell with me, and when I leave the doorway open you may slip in to get that delicacy of a soulmate of yours. You will have one hour to return. One Earth hour. If you’re not back by then, then the gate will close.”

“Is that all?” Sweet Pea asked, knowing that demons tended to slip in unnecessary bullshit with their contracts. He knew he was being asked for more than what he was already giving. He wasn’t that dense.

“Be ready when I call on you, dark witch.” Mammon said. “I can see a great destiny with you if you were to indeed stop the impending doom of the mortal realm’s destruction. I can teach you so much more than what you’ll find in your little books. Give me time. I’ll ring when I’m ready to take you on.”

Naturally it didn’t sit well with Sweet Pea that he was being asked to give something so vague as his loyalty and devotion. It wasn’t something tangible and that could be tricky. Still, it was better the possible alternative of giving his unborn child to him. This was what he thought to be a best case scenario. Sweet Pea nodded, his mouth suddenly dry as if he had been sucking on a mouthful of cotton.

A pleased and cruel smile twisted upon Mammon’s dark features as he used a blackened claw to tear open the fabric of reality, much as Myra had done on the night of the moon. “One mortal hour.” He reminded, voice echoing with a sinister tone as he stepped into the void, wings flexing behind him to fit through the narrow pathway into hell.

Sweet Pea released Lily’s hands. He grabbed the compass and a pocket watch. He started towards the sparking entryway.

“Pea,” Lily called out to him, her voice wavering. He turned his head to the side to look at her from the corner of his eye. “Be safe.” She murmured, “and hurry .”

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[sublimediscord]

Star for Stand Alone and Grow - or the series. Whichever is more prominent.

Oh boy. My thoughts on dragons, huh? And/or a section I am dying to talk about?

(I want to put a read more here but apparently that functionality has been removed from mobile again? Yay...)

So first of all. Reading this story today, my main feeling is that I could've used maybe half the words I did. But that's neither here nor there—that's just a sign that I'm recognizing where I've been as a writer and how I've (I'd like to think) improved. It also makes me feel like/worry about the fact that, if I ever get around to posting the chapters I've been writing for the sequel fic, people might not like the style anymore.

But I digress.

So. When I originally wrote this fic, it was supposed to be for a 5k minibang. I wrote about 4000 words of outline across 8 pages and didn't see a problem with that (somehow). But I had the major plot points planned, I had the dialogue for several scenes already planned out, I had one or two parts of scenes already almost word for words written in there. The scenes that I had planned in the greatest detail (minus the scene where Raleigh burns down the house because that was written earlier as a drabble that ended up being the jumping off point for the whole Fic and universe in general) were, if I'm remembering correctly: Richard leaving, Raleigh finding Yancy in the shower after he'd done the thing he did, Raleigh and Yancy kissing for the first time, meeting the Gages, meeting the Hansens, Yancy teaching Raleigh about what he can do (getting Raleigh to properly shift for the first time). Of those, the first kiss was, surprisingly maybe, one of the ones I struggled with the most. Meanwhile, the Raleigh-finds-Yancy-in-the-shower scene wa s probably the easiest to write. Probably because I love torturing my characters, I don't know.

Also, I wrote several scenes to be specifically visually, er, I dunno if I'd say interesting exactly, but I tried to give my artist something to work with. Ironically, the scenes that got art made of them were not ones I planned on. Especially the kiss. I'd written that as an emotion-centered moment and had honestly mostly forgotten the visuals of it. If I remember correctly the artist drew one of the brothers wearing shorts and for the life of me I don't know if I wrote that in there or not. Also they were nice to me and didn't recreate the scene exactly the way I'd set it up, which rereading now is super duper awkward (yancy is, unless I'm misreading my own work, sitting in a chat the entire time, but that's because I FORGOT to write him standing up somewhere...oh well), and instead made it a much better-looking scene in general.

Overall, though, an astonishing amount of this story was written on the fly using like 1-2 sentence outline notes to construct several-thousand-words-long scenes. And at least one scene wasn't even in the original outline at all. The scene where Raleigh and Yancy go camping with chuck and chuck reveals while nearly asleep that he's having dreams of flying and they show of their dragon forms for him and so on and so forth. Yeah. That ended up being one of my favorite sequences in the whole fic and it came about because my beta mentioned that the story felt like it needed more time of Raleigh and Yancy and Chuck actually bonding.

So yeah overall I like this fic but Im often overcome by the urge to edit it onto near oblivion. But I don't want to become Douglas Adams. Also, I have no idea how the fuuuuuck I wrote it in the first place. Seriously. I wrote it within like. 10 days? 12 days? It was an astonishingly short amount of time. I've never written so much so fast before in my life. And then on top of that I submitted a second story to that minibang that was 19,000 words iirc. And that one is a whole 'nother post about my thoughts on the things I've written because my feelings on that one are complicated to say the least.