#the writing in the book says something about how these demons can only be banished with a filthy pash so he has his work cut out for him

[teeth-draws]

He’s trying to be cool about it but he shouldn’t have opened that and you should probably get out of there…

[le-panda-chocovore]

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "le-panda-chocovore "?

Oh I think I can actually answer that without rambling too much !! (<- took an entire week to answer the ask and select the fics, and I commented on each one of them lol) It won't be a Top in order of preference tho, there's no actual classment, it's just the ones I loved the most.

The Way I Behaved - EraserMic (MHA)

This fanfic gave me the inspiration to write my greatest work (still unfinished to this day) and literally changed so many things about me. It also made me discover a whole genre of music that I've never listened to before and with which I am entirely in love now. Prepare to cry tho, because this is deeply heartbreaking. It's a Villain Mic AU where Aizawa was never a teacher. And it is good.

What if Percy did become a God - Percy Jackson and the Olympians (based on the books !!! do not read if you just watched the show !!!)

The title says everything. This is not a happy story, you will cry, I promise. It's short, like a 1k word OS, it's really poetic, it's deep, it's beautiful, and also, it's painful. Humans were never meant to be gods, not even Percy. It's written like a poem, I read it so many times and it hurt me every time.

Demon and Angel Professors - Ineffable Spouses (Good Omens)

Not a fanfiction but a serie of short works about Crowley and Aziraphale and the people around them. A teachers AU very nice to read with many Original Characters (the students) who are all captivating and appreciable. The story is extremely queer-positive and neurodivergent inclusive and physical handicap representative, honestly, you want to read it. There's everything inside it. If you have chronic pain or if you're a closeted queer or even a curious ally who wants to understand their peers, this is what you need. The love is so pure it's overwhelming.

Honor and Vengeance on the High Sea - Zuko (ATLA)

Tbh this deserves to be published, it's a novel itself (I haven't finished it yet). The author reappropriated the Avatar universe to write something completely new. It's an AU where Zuko becomes a Pirate after his banishment and fights against the Fire Nation Navy, and eventually joins the Avatar's team. There's a whole work around internalized homophobia, the discovery of the self, acceptance, injustice, family trauma and everything. Original Characters are cool too. Chapters are long and very, very complete, you can see the author has historical and cultural knowledge.

Strength, the meaning of - Asano Gakuhou (Assassination Classroom)

I can't believe a fanfic about this total asshole made it to my top 10, but it is beautifully written. The progressive mental breakdown of a man who used to stand proud above everyone, the slow fall down to hell without even realizing it. There's also his son's POV here, which is equally beautifully written. I really hate the man and I don't like the fact that the end of AssClass completely disregard the consequences of what happened on the character's mental state, and reading how even him wasn't okay at all is very pleasant to read. That's karma my bitch.

Je suis assis - BokuAka (Haikyuu)

Yeah it's in french and on wattpad. It has been a while since I read it but I still remember the principal. It's a OS anyway so it's not very long (we didn't do that 20k words OS on Wattpad, this madness is only popular on AO3 lol). Since I'm sensitive to everything that is around handicap, it touched me. It ended up being cute and warm. Honestly I was more thinking of another BokuAka fanfiction but I couldn't remember the name nor found it online so I put this one.

25 - Riren (SnK)

Yeah yeah I know, pedo ship etc, but I was 14 and this is a High School AU where they're both 16 so, it's okay I guess. Yes the name of the fanfic is twenty-five. It's in french, it's on wattpad, and there's Eren's POV too. I don't know how I'm supposed to describe it... I think you have to read it, it's not actually strange or weird but, it's a whole experience.

Here there be dragons - Centennial Husbands (the Sandman)

This is the exact definition of love. What is love to me ? This fanfiction. Engagement, devotion, caring, this is it, this fanfic has the meaning of all these words. I had a hard time reading it because I hate ultra-long OS (I need CHAPTERS, give me a BREAK) but it was soooo enjoyable, and I was crying the whole time 'cause it's so pure and beautiful.

Palm to Palm - KaRen (Assassination Classroom)

Yes I am a part of the extremely tiny fandom that ships Karma and Ren (I do ship Karma with multiple people throughout the manga lmao) but only in THIS specific context. And this is beautifully written, I can't stop re-reading it. Also, the name of the ship makes me laugh. Karma and Ren relationship after losing Gakushuu -the boy they both love above everything else- is peak romance.

Le goût du chocolat - L x Light (Death Note)

I honestly don't remember a thing about this fanfiction except a single sentence, but I do know that I totally fell in love with it. It was one of my fave fanfic when I was full active on Wattpad, and I even archived it because I didn't want to lose it. I should read it again now that I found it again.

Alright that's 10 !!! Finally !!

Oh it was so fun to fall back into all the things I read before ! But it was harder than I expected because, well, I only have AO3 for 3 years and I've been on Wattpad for 7 years, but I started reading fanfiction even before that, I just didn't have any account back then. So, I kinda forgot about some of the things I read more than 4 years ago, and I couldn't find the gems I discovered when I was 12. Most of the books that made out to this list are my recent lectures, it's a bit biased I guess.

Anyway, thank you for the ask ! It was fun to analyze all my bookmarks and everything !

[anjanahalo]

Tying It

Here’s my first attempt at sharing my writing. Based on tswwwit’s Familiar AU, so this is a BillDip story. Granted, to get it, I highly recommend reading at least their story “Faking It.” Otherwise, go ahead and read. Rated M for consensual adult situations between adults.

“Hey, Bill?” Dipper poked his head into their bedroom. Bill sat at Dipper’s desk, feet crossed on top of his scattered notes, eating beef jerky. At least it looked like the jerky Dipper bought specifically for Bill. Finding out he stole from Dipper’s stash would ruin not only the mood but the question Dipper wanted to ask. He closed the door behind him and gave a small cough to clear his throat. “So, um, question,” Dipper opened.

“Shoot!”

“Well, I’ve, um…” Dipper took a deep breath. This was Bill he was talking to. No matter what else they might snipe at each other for, THIS was something Bill swore was as close to sacred ground as an all powerful mind demon would get. He won’t laugh. He might say no, but Dipper won’t be mocked. At least he hoped so. “I’ve been….researching, about stuff. And there’s this thing called ‘shibari’ and….” “Ohhhhhhh…” Bill’s eye lit up, he tossed the jerky bag aside quite literally. Dipper reminded himself they could clean that later. “So, interested in getting artfully tied up?” “Um, actually…” This was the hard part. The part it took him a while to admit to himself he imagined when he saw the online images, the videos, even the book he secretly bought for more details. When he saw the shibari rope bindings, he didn’t imagine himself at all. Every model he saw, especially the male ones, shifted into one specific individual, and Dipper had to admit to himself the mere thought was enthralling. Well, here goes. “I was thinking…could I try it on you?” Bill stared. Dipper said nothing. Silence ruled for a long, uncomfortable time before Bill shifted, his feet dropping off the desk onto the floor. “Okay. Sapling? If anyone else in the multiverse asked me that, I’d have already flayed them and used their skin as makeshift rope. I’m saying that cause I want you to understand how fucked up you made me that I’m even agreeing.” Dipper blinked as he translated the demonic speak into human. “So, yes?” “Sure! Heck, if you’re feeling top energy like that, I wanna see it fulfilled! The fact you’re stepping up from handcuffs in any direction is amazing progress.” “I know no one else is in the Shack but could you not shout that aloud?” Dipper cringed. “Fine, fine, whatever. So, we’re going to my place then?” Bill grinned and rubbed his hands. “Actually, um,” Dipper walked to the closet and pulled out an old yellow bag. From inside he pulled out the shibari book and lengths of hemp rope. He held them up with an embarrassed grin. Bill’s eye widened even more along with a smile. “Ohhh, you’ve REALLY thought about this!” With no more coaxing, he hopped from the desk chair onto the bed. “Alright! How do you want me? How much should I take off?” “Um, well, I just…can I just practice? I’ve just read about it and I want to do it right. I was thinking of just tying up your arms?” Bill looked a bit disappointed, but didn’t let his obvious enthusiasm flag. “Just tell me what to do.” Dipper had Bill sit cross legged on the bed, his arms behind him with the forearms parallel. Thankfully, Bill’s body was more than flexible enough to do so without discomfort. Dipper thought about, then banished, some of the more advanced shibari ties he’d seen online. He wasn’t going to rush this. He wanted to master this one thing and do it right. Dipper was slow, gentle, and restarted several times, but, at the end, he had Bill’s arms snuggly tied together with loops of rope that covered his forearms between elbow and wrist. Just like he imagined, even with Bill in his suit. Especially with Bill in his suit. The sight was. It felt something like he imagined Bill felt when he had Dipper pinned, whether it’s on the bed or over the counter. Plus, Dipper knew it wasn’t an actual restraint. Bill’s illusionary body was strong enough to easily snap the rope apart if he wanted free. Hell, if nothing else, he could burn it apart. The rope was only hemp. The thing truly restraining Bill was Bill for Dipper’s sake. He still hoped Bill wouldn’t . The rope was expensive. He should have just gone to the mindscape and not bought the actual rope, but he didn’t want to admit to ANYONE he’d first practiced on Mabel’s stuffed animals. Bill might actually mock him for that, and Mabel wouldn’t forgive him. Still, that strange feeling of control, of strength, of having actual power over Bill…it was weirdly intoxicating, as illusionary as it was. However, he knew how powerful illusions could be if you just believed in them. “Well, well, well,” He murmured, leaning against Bill’s back to whisper in his ear. “Looks like I caught the one and only Demon Cipher. Not so tough now, are you?” Bill started a moment, but it barely took a half second before he caught on and gave an evil smile, the sort he gave when they first met and Bill planned on cremating the human. “Please, what sort of demon hunter thinks he can keep me prisoner?” “What about the great nephew of Standford Pines?” Dipper asked, slinking to the front, a grin still on his face. Bill’s arms stayed pinned behind him, impossible to move without breaking the bonds. Dipper shivered, the usual feelings in this sort of sexual tension twisted in a new way. “I’ve learned everything he had to teach and more. And I plan to bend you into submission, Demon.” “You might have trapped me, but there’s nothing you can do to break me,” Bill bragged. “Nothing your feeble human brain could invent would hurt me enough to make me talk. If you think you’ve got a chance, then you can just suck my di-” Dipper grinned. Before Bill even finished the sentence, he pushed Bill down on the bed. He knew Bill allowed it, but that was only in his logical mind. In this moment, he focused more on pinning Bill’s torso down with one hand while freeing Bill's cock with the other, quickly diving down upon it. Dipper hummed and grinned at the sounds his “captive demon” made. He came up for air. “Maybe you’ve learned to fight against pain…but what about pleasure, Cipher?” He dove back down, using everything he’d learned from being with Bill to bring him to the edge, but no further before pulling back with a wet pop. “You’ll share your secrets with me, Cipher, and you’ll come. Otherwise, I guess we’ll see how long a demon can last with blue balls.” Bill’s pupil was so wide it neary encompassed his golden iris. “Ohhhh, you’ve definitely got an interesting interrogation tech-AH~” Dipper started again, bringing Bill close to the edge, backing off, and continuing the “interrogation” while Bill, of course, refused to talk. Bill was growing more and more frustrated, Dipper saw, and it made him feel wild, until he was grabbed and flipped around. Panicked for a moment, almost lost in his role, he realized Bill slipped his arms free of the bindings, but without breaking them. Thank goodness. They could save that level of theatrics for the Mindscape. Speaking of theatrics, a sweaty, red faced, and exceedingly aroused Bill now had him pinned. “Looks like the demon hunter’s become the demon prey,” He sneered. “Time to see how you deal with pleasure, Pines.” Dipper grinned. When it came to this sort of thing, it really was worth asking.

[bewitchingbooktours]

Author Interview- Storm's Convergence by Valerie Storm #YAFantasy

What inspired you to become an author?

I started writing fanfic of video games when I was about ten years old. The love of creating my own world with characters I admired, combined with being a voracious reader, set me on this path.

How did you come up with the title for your latest book?

Storm’s Convergence was actually a last-minute change suggested by my publisher, when I told her I wasn’t certain how I felt about the title. I wanted something about storms, but that implied there were many of them coming together.

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

The biggest lesson I want readers to gather from Demon Storm, but specifically Storm’s Convergence, is to learn to trust those who love you, as well as yourself. The world is hard and dark, and we can’t make it through alone.

What books/authors have influenced your life?

Many, many books. Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, the Magic Circle series, the Elemental Trilogy…the biggest for the Demon Storm series (and thus my life) as a whole was probably Sara Wolf’s Bring Me Their Hearts.

Can you share a little of your current work with us?

I’m currently working on an anthology story that will present in Shadow Spark Publishing’s Cozyish! I’m also going through basic edits for Demon Storm’s book 6, The Storm Breaks.

Who designed the cover of your latest book?

My covers are all drawn by Ginka on Twitter (@Ginkahederling). For Storm’s Convergence, I had Azshure (@Azshure13) sketch the concept and Ginka did the rest!

Do you have any advice for other writers?

Don’t stop writing, no matter what anyone says to you. Follow YOUR passion, and the rest will follow. I would have given up so many times if I didn’t believe in myself or love the story I want to tell.

Just for fun - if you could have one paranormal ability, what would it be?

I would choose telekinesis! The idea of being able to move things with a thought sounds so amazing.

Storm's Convergence

Demon Storm 

Book 5

Valerie Storm

Genre: Young Adult Fantasy

Publisher: Shadow Spark Publishing

Date of Publication: 2/13/24

Cover Artist: @Ginkahederling

ASIN: B0CRYQJRN1

Number of pages: 313

Word Count: 78962

Tagline: The Fire Witch ruined Kari's life once before

                Now she's back

                And she's not alone

Book Description: 

The calm can only last so long.

Now a member of Freehaven's Council, Kari tries to put her past behind her and settle down in her new home with her ever-present Lord and love, Ari.

Cracks in her mind, parting gifts from the heart eater, make planning the upcoming Spring Festival a struggle, but Kari is determined to do her best, even after Guine departs the town.

When a mysterious child appears at the festival and marks Kari, all semblance of normalcy is banished.

A triple threat from her past awaits beyond the walls of Freehaven and options are thin. Not willing to spill any more blood, Kari takes it upon herself to stop them—with Ari by her side.

Amazon

Excerpt:

The girl grabbed the neckline of her shirt and jerked her closer with too much ease. Kari stiffened as the girl’s cheek touched hers.

“Funny wolf demon, hiding in this wretched town.” Her voice was low and cruelly amused. Kari tensed, prepared to jerk free and throw a fist, but the girl hissed, “Ah, no, don’t move. There are many innocents here, though I would not call demons innocent. I know you would not want them hurt.”

She suddenly realized the closeness of so many villagers, as if she’d been ripped out of reality and dropped harshly back into it again.

Kari bit back a growl. “Who are you?”

She knew, though, before the small girl laughed. The boastful yet righteous arrogance of someone who believed truly and wholly in her cause—it could be no one else.

“I feel your defeat. You’ve answered your own question.”

Kari’s throat was dry. “Ri…Riniko. What are you doing here? Why—”

“Since you’ve yet to heed our warning, I’m here to play a little game.”

“Kari!” Ari called.

Riniko’s small hands tightened. “Tell him to leave. We’re busy.”

She hesitated. Ari yelled for her again, and now she envisioned him pushing through the crowds, looking for where she’d gone.

“It’s fine,” she yelled back. “I…I’m helping someone. I’ll catch up!”

Riniko’s grip didn’t loosen. “Your boy is insistent.”

Kari turned her head with some difficulty, given Riniko’s grip. The little witch traded, wrapping her arms around Kari’s neck with a giggle that cracked against her eardrums.

Visible between passersby, Ari made his way to them. His brows raised at the sight of the girl around her neck.

“Who is…”

Kari smiled, big and wide, and prayed he didn’t notice her trembling lips. “She’s lost. I’m part of the Council, so she came to me. Go back to Rathik and Essie, I’ll catch up.”

Ari saw something in her face; his eyes constricted, his jaw pulsing, uncertain of what to do. Please walk away, Ari. It’ll be okay this time. I promise.

When she did not say anything more, he relented. “Alright. Meet us over there, okay?”

Kari nodded, jostling Riniko. Ari glanced between them, then jogged off.

Riniko giggled again, quieter this time. “Good.”

Kari grabbed her around the waist and yanked her off. There was something insanely surreal about holding a small child in her hands, a child whose eyes burned with unmatched cruelty and fire.

“What do you want?” she snarled.

Riniko wrapped too-small fingers around Kari’s wrists and met her eye with a cool, even gaze.

“You know what we want. I’m only here to set the fire of action a little higher for you.” Her palms, pressed against Kari’s skin, warmed. Kari’s eyes widened, and she struggled with the instinct to fling the small child away.

“We do not want to burn this entire village to the ground. Despite the way these villagers associate with demons, they are still good, innocent people. The demons can be excused as long as they remain thusly. But you cannot. You must come and face your fate.”

Her arms were burning; Kari bit back a scream. “I keep telling you, I don’t want to hurt anyone! Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Tell that to those poor people in the east. They probably thought you didn’t want to kill them. But now they’re very, very dead.”

Kari staggered back. There were fewer villagers out now, less to see this odd pair, but Kari dreaded what Riniko would do if even one was drawn to them. She inched away from the square, edging toward an alley between two buildings.

“Isn’t it enough that I died once? What more can you want?”

Riniko laughed. “Oh, yes, but Zina got cold feet. Superstition, I guess. She couldn’t let it die with you. No, she believed it would go on, despite having no body. So here you are, her little pet wolf demon, but she won’t be here to save you a second time.”

Cold feet? Let it die with her?

The burning on her arms increased, snapping her attention back to Riniko’s young-girl face. “I’ll come to you,” Kari croaked. “Does that make you happy? I’ll leave and find you.”

Riniko’s eyes lit up, though she did not remove her hands. The heat continued to rise until Kari thought she could smell her flesh cooking.

“Oh, do you promise?” Riniko asked, her voice girlish, sickeningly sweet. “Pretty please?”

“Please stop,” Kari whispered between her teeth.

Little hands lifted, releasing her from the agony of fire. Kari trembled, then froze as those hands touched her cheeks.

“It was easy to infiltrate this place, Kari. It would be even easier, now, to set it all ablaze. You remember my previous work.”

Kari’s hands around Riniko’s waist shook with the effort to not squeeze her into pieces. “You’re the monster, witch,” she snarled.

“It takes a monster to slay one,” Riniko responded. “Remember that if you decide to hesitate any longer. I’m tired of waiting for this final show. My sisters have both seen that I was right and now it’s time to end this.” Riniko raised her hands. “Put me down.”

Shaking profusely, Kari set Riniko on the ground, where the little witch-girl brushed off her plain, brown dress. She fluffed her hair, then raised a finger to her lips.

“Remember your promise,” she said, then spun and skipped away into the darkness.

About the Author:

Valerie Storm was raised in Tucson, Arizona. Growing up, she fell in love with everything fantasy. When she wasn’t playing video games, she was writing. By age ten, she began to write her own stories as a way to escape reality. When these stories became a full-length series, she considered the path to sharing with other children & children-at/heart looking for a place to call home.

Blog https://rantsofawriter.home.blog/ 

Twitter https://twitter.com/valerie_storm 

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[c-e-d-dreamer]

Happy Oct. 1 and the start of Halloween! Please enjoy this spooky inspired Nessian fic! :) 

It had been an accident. A complete and absolute accident. Cassian had agreed to host a mini Halloween party at his loft apartment. They would order food in, play some drinking games, maybe binge some horror movies. It was going to be fun, and Cassian simply wanted his place to look the part. So he had bought those fake spiderwebs and hung them from the lamps and across the curtains. He bought some fake skulls and plastic pumpkins to set about the living room and kitchen. 

And he simply thought it would be funny to draw a pentagram on the floor. It looked just like in those cheesy Halloween movies, and he knew Azriel would get a kick out of it. He even set some candles around it to really make it look the part, and he couldn't help but put on his best 'spooky' voice as he said some words he'd read in one of Rhys' musty books in his library, some language he'd never heard of but sounded cool. He didn't think anything of it. 

And that's how Cassian ends up with a woman standing in the middle of his apartment. 

Cassian has no idea who she is, but he can’t deny that she is breathtakingly gorgeous. Her golden brown hair is braided up into an intricate crown, a few wisps of hair falling against her temples and framing her face. It brings out the cut lines of her cheekbones. She’s wearing a form fitting dress, the black fabric hugging her curves and arms before it flows into a deep blue at her feet. But Cassian’s eyes get stuck on her eyes, as dark as night as they pierce into Cassian’s own. 

"I am the Goddess of Death, Princess of Decay,” the woman says, her voice seeming to boom and echo in Cassian’s apartment. “Who are you who commands me?"

"How did you get in here?"

The question seems to give the woman pause, and she blinks at Cassian for a few seconds. Cassian watches as her head tilts slightly, her eyebrows pinching. 

"Excuse me?" the woman asks. 

"I mean my front door is locked so I'm just confused how you got in here."

"You summoned me."

"I summoned you…?" 

Cassian takes in where the woman is standing, right in the middle of the pentagram, her too dark eyes, and the way power seems to radiate off her in a way that rumbles in his own bones. Finally, his brain catches on. 

"You're a demon." 

The woman crosses her arms, her weight settling on her left leg. She raises her eyebrows at Cassian, her face cold and unimpressed. It pretty clearly reads ‘no shit.’ 

“I summoned a demon?” 

“Are you asking me?” 

“I summoned a demon,” Cassian mutters, mostly to himself. 

“What are you expecting? Congratulations?” the demon-woman quips. “Look, just tell me what you want.” 

“About that…'' Cassian starts, clearing his throat awkwardly and rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. “I actually didn’t mean to summon you. It was an accident.” 

“Is this a joke?”

“Unfortunately not. But I don’t need anything from you, so I guess you can just go back to wherever it is demons live.” 

“That’s not how it works. I’m tied to you until you banish me.” 

“And how do I do that?” 

“You don’t know how to banish me?” 

“I just told you I summoned you by accident. I’m not even sure how I did that.” 

The demon-woman closes her eyes and lets out a long sigh through her nose like she’s trying to stay calm. Cassian can’t help but wonder what would happen if she doesn’t stay calm. Would she attack him like demons in movies? Are the representations of demons in movies accurate? Would it be rude to ask her? After a moment, the demon-woman takes a deep breath and smooths back her hair before settling her eyes back on Cassian. 

“So, let me get this straight,” the demon-woman says. “You summoned me by accident, you don’t actually have any biddings for me to do, and you don’t know how to banish me.” 

 “Yes,” Cassian replies, chuckling sheepishly. 

“Great,” the demon-woman mutters. “I was summoned by an idiot.” 

“But I can Google it,” Cassian promises. 

It turns out, Google isn’t that helpful when it comes to actual demons. Cassian tries various different searches, but all that he’s able to come up with is a bunch of television and movie references, a Buzzfeed article comparing different celebs to demons, and a weird article about making deals with the devil. Luckily, he is able to find a local witchy shop that’s only three blocks down from his apartment. Unfortunately, they’re closed and don’t open until the next morning, so he and demon-woman are stuck together for the time being. 

He had moved to the sofa when he started his Google deep dive, and the demon-woman had stepped gracefully out of the pentagram to sit on the opposite end. She hasn’t said anything since their initial talk when she appeared, and Cassian can’t help but steal glances her way out of the corner of his eye. She looks like a queen the way she’s perched on the cream colored sofa cushion. 

“So,” Cassian drawls into the silence. “Do demons eat? I can order pizza.” 

The demon-woman turns to him, one eyebrow poised. The look sends a shiver down his spine. He's not entirely sure it's out of fear. 

As it turns out, demons do in fact eat, as Cassian learns. He also learns that this particular demon prefers her pizza topped with veggies and that her name is Nesta. 

“Have you always been a demon?” Cassian asks, taking a bite of his pizza slice. 

“Seriously?”

“You’re the first demon I’ve ever met. You can’t blame me for being curious, sweetheart.” 

Nesta’s eyes snap to his, a scowl pinched across her lips. The expression pulls a smile across Cassian’s own face, which only makes Nesta’s eyes narrow more. Cassian’s fingers itch to reach out and smooth the lines between her eyebrows. The desire is so sudden that Cassian busies himself with grabbing another slice of pizza out of the box to distract himself. 

“First of all, don’t ever call me sweetheart again,” Nesta starts. “And to answer your question, no. I haven’t always been a demon.” 

“Then how did you become a demon?” 

“I made a deal.” 

“Was it worth it?” 

Something passes over Nesta’s face then, like ghostly fingers leaving a haunting trail against her skin. Her spine straightens like steel, and when her eyes meet Cassian’s again, there’s a guardedness to her expression that speaks volumes yet leaves Cassian with even more questions. 

“Most days,” Nesta replies simply. 

~ * * * ~

The witchy shop is decidedly less spooky than Cassian had envisioned, but perhaps that’s just his biases and what movies taught him coming into play. He expects cobwebs and weird animal parts in slimy jars, and maybe a black cat that screeches at him when he steps inside. Instead, there’s an aisle dedicated to herbs and another dedicated to crystals. He squints at the black scrawled writing of the placards declaring what each crystal is for. He supposes it would be a bit too easy if one just said ‘banishing demons.’ 

Nesta sighs loudly from over his shoulder when he picks up a candle to smell. When he glances her way, her arms are crossed and that scowl from before is back plastered across her face. Slowly, he turns back around and sets the candle back down on the shelf. 

“Do you mind?” Nesta quips. 

“Alright, alright,” Cassian acquiesces, keeping his voice down to avoid attention. Another thing he learnt last night was that only he could see and hear Nesta.

He heads for the counter of the shop where a young woman is arranging jewelry in the display case. As he approaches, the woman looks up and offers him a friendly smile. Cassian tries to offer one back, but he’s sure it must look more like a grimace. Once at the counter, Cassian clears his throat, shoving nervous fingers through his tangle of hair. 

“Hello,” Cassian starts awkwardly. “This is probably a weird question, but you wouldn’t happen to know how to banish a demon, would you?” 

“Do you have a demon problem?” the shop worker asks. 

“Something like that.” 

“Well, is the demon powerful?” 

Cassian looks over his shoulder to Nesta, raising a questioning eyebrow at her. In response, she merely smiles. It’s all teeth and the exact opposite of innocent. It stirs something deep in his gut. 

“Very,” Nesta bites out.

Cassian turns back to the shop worker. “Very.” 

“Wait,” the shop worker replies. “The demon, is he here?” 

“She,” Cassian corrects. “And yes.” 

“But how did she get past my wards?” 

Cassian’s gaze follows the shop worker’s own, to the silver trinkets that twist and clink together softly above the shop’s door. He can hear Nesta’s scoff at the suggestion, and he doesn’t need to be looking at her to know that she’s rolling her eyes. 

“It would seem they don’t work,” Cassian offers sheepishly. 

The shop worker gapes for just a moment before she turns on her heel, pushing past the beads hanging over the doorway to the backroom. When she returns, she has a box of crystals that she sets down on the counter, a bundle of herbs labeled ‘sage’ and a folded up piece of paper nestled on top. 

“You’ll need to draw a circle and set these crystals around it,” the shop worker explains. “Make sure you charge the crystals under the full moon and don’t wait. Do it the next day. That’s when they’ll be the most powerful. Burn the sage to cleanse and say this incantation, and you should be free of your demon.” 

“Great,” Cassian exclaims, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. “I’ll take it.” 

After paying and gathering his items, they head out of the shop. Cassian feels lighter already. They have a plan. Plus, the fall weather today is gorgeous and that always helps to lift his spirits, the cool breeze and canopy of yellow and reds above their heads. It definitely helps that fall and Nesta look amazing together, the golden rays of the sun bouncing off her hair. Cassian can’t help but offer her an easy grin as they walk side by side. 

“See? That was super easy. We’ll have you banished before you know it.” 

“And when’s the next full moon?” Nesta asks dryly. 

Cassian startles slightly at the question. He shifts the weight of the things he just bought to one arm and digs his phone out of his pocket with the other. A quick Google later, and Cassian takes in the date glaring back at him on the small screen with a frown. When he looks back up at Nesta, she’s staring back at him unimpressed, clearly already knowing the answer. With a roll of her eyes and what sounds to Cassian like a muttered ‘idiot,’ she takes off ahead him back toward his apartment. 

It’s going to be a long two and half weeks. 

-- 

And Cassian simps the whole time for those two and a half weeks. And there’s feelings. And Cassian makes a deal of his own to save Nesta’s soul. And they live happily ever after. 

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

When God Was a Woman

Merlin Stone spent approximately ten years engaged in research of the lesser-known, sometimes hidden depictions of the Sacred Feminine, from European and Middle Eastern societies, in preparation to complete this work. In the book, she describes these archetypal reflections of women as leaders, sacred entities and benevolent matriarchs, and also weaves them into a larger picture of how our modern societies grew to the present imbalanced state. … The book is now seen as having been instrumental in the modern rise of feminist theology in the 1970s to 1980s, along with authors such as Elizabeth Gould Davis, Riane Eisler and Marija Gimbutas. Some have related it as well to the work of authors Margaret Murray and Robert Graves.    LINK

__________________________________

In this 1976 book the sculptor and art historian, Merlin Stone, discusses the history behind the religion(s) of the Goddess. Various religions in the past held that “God” was a female deity, as only females are the creators of life. There is anthropological and archaeological evidence which suggest that the earliest religions were those with a female deity.

She reminds us of Innin, Inanna, Nana, Nut, Anat, Anahita, Istar, Isis, Au Set, Ishara, Asherah, Ashtart, Attoret, Attar and Hathor, amongst others. She takes us on an ambitious journey, travelling from the dawn of the Neolithic, through the Sumerian myths and writing, over to Crete, and then she goes through the Bible with a fine-toothed comb, ferreting out the Goddess is mentioned in its pages.

It wasn’t until Indo-European religions (which eventually developed the Judeo-Christian cultures) came through with their male-dominator culture, that the Goddess was first suppressed. With this suppression of the Goddess came the suppression of women’s rights. This is also demonstrated when we look at the Judeo-Christian (Abrahamic) religions, and we see the subjugation of women (double standards, rape, slavery, etc.).

On top of this, we see women blamed for the fall of man (as in the Old Testament of the Bible), and this is believed to be an artifact of the patriarchal religions’ suppression of the Goddess. The fig tree was a symbol for the Goddess in many areas around the Fertile Crescent, as well as the serpent. If we look at the book of Genesis in the Bible, we can “coincidentally” see these symbols (namely the serpent) as something representing “evil” or “deceit”.

It was “Eve” who ate the fruit first, so not only is the serpent symbol demonized, but also women in general. Ironically, even if we read the fable of Adam and Eve straight out of Genesis, we see that Eve was actually deceived by a trained deceiver (the serpent), where Adam was deceived by his wife (not a trained deceiver). So Adam was coerced into “sin” by someone he trusted that was apparently just ignorant, and Eve was coerced into “sin” by a trained deceiver — yet it is Eve that takes the bulk of the blame? This is further evidence of how ridiculous the fable is, and how there were so many political reasons behind the religions that suppressed women’s rights. Stone does a decent job presenting the evidence and findings and basically summarizing what happened to women as a result of these patriarchal religious shifts.

__________________________________

Greece was invaded by northern peoples several times. Robert Graves, in his introduction to The Greek Myths, wrote in 1955, “Achaean invasions of the thirteenth century BC seriously weakened the matrilineal tradition… when the Dorians arrived, towards the close of the second millenium, patrilineal succession became the rule.” With these northern people came the worship of the Indo-European Dyaus Pitar, literally God Father, eventually known in Greece as Zeus and later in Rome as Jupiter. This transition period of the change from the worship of the Goddess to the male deity, the change most intensively brought about by the Dorian invasions, was the subject of E. Butterworth’s Some Traces of the Pre-Olympian World, written in 1966.                    — Chapter 3 page 51

__________________________________

Sun Myung Moon warned America that we must have sex the way he told us, in the positions he designated, or else we would forfeit our “love organs” to the dark lord Satan. Moon has long spoken about his desire to see gays and “free sex” banished from America. Moon said “Satan is clinging to our sexual organs.” Women are a “line of prostitutes” who should be punished for their selfishness. “The concave organ {vagina} should be sealed with concrete”. “Woman’s sexual organ is like the open mouth of a snake filled with poison,” he said. Men do not get off any easier. Keep pliers in your pocket, he says, “and when you go to the bathroom, once a day, pinch your love organ. Cut the skin a little bit as a warning.”

__________________________________

Jim Goad: “If the cult leader wants to control members completely, he aims to control their sexual life. Sex reaches all the way to the core of one’s being, until the unconscious level. It is hard to imagine anything more intrusive than dictating what someone does with their genitals. When a person hands over their sex drive to the cult leader, he does not need to worry about the members’ car keys and bank accounts. They are already his. Sex is only one wrench in the cult leader’s toolbox, but it is the most important one. The aim lies in altering the followers’ sexuality until it is no longer their own. Sex is used to demolish personal identity in favor of the hive mentality. The cult leaders cannibalize their followers’ libidinal energy.” LINK

__________________________________

Kirsti Nevalainen:

The Fall story in Genesis 3 was an attack against the high priestess/queen as the representative of the Godhead. 

The Fall account in Genesis 3 was authored by a Yahwist theologian and it represents a theological and political attack against the Sacred Marriage Rites of Canaanite people. LINK

A History Of God – The 4,000-year quest of Judaism, Christianity and Islam

If Adam and Eve didn’t exist, then there was no fall and therefore no need for a savior.

The concept of original sin seems to have been developed about 200 years after Jesus by Irenaeus and later by St Augustine.

[nach0]

i know them (they know me)

‘Oh Wizard, you can’t get rid of me that easily.’

When Gem seals Xornoth into the crystal she finds herself stuck with their voice in her head. Determined to deal with it on her own, she doesn’t tell anyone about her incredibly annoying guest.

Chapter One: benefit of the doubt is my weakness

AO3 Link

Chapter Two

“How do you see things right now?” Gem asked suddenly, setting aside the reports she was supposed to be working on. The question startled Xornoth into uncharacteristic silence, so she pressed on. “Can you only see what I see, or can you look around independently of me?”

‘Why do you want to know?’

“I’m curious,” she said, pulling fresh paper forward and inking a quill. “It’s not often something like this happens, think of how future academics will be able to study a first-hand account of someone haunted by a demon!”

In her excitement she flung her arms wide, sending ink flying across the room. She hurried to clean it up, scowling as Xornoth laughed.

‘I doubt they’d be able to study anything with ink splattered across it. Really Wizard, you’d think the ‘Defeater of Xornoth’ would be neater.’

Both scoffed at the title citizens had taken to calling her in hushed whispers. Xornoth didn’t like it for obvious reasons, but Gem disliked the implication it was anything less than a team effort.

“Fine, if you tell me I’ll… actually, what can I offer you? Because you’re incorporeal and all. And don’t say setting you free.”

There was a pause from Xornoth who had been about to say exactly that before they huffed and came up with something else. Gem couldn’t see them, but she had a strong feeling they were rolling their eyes.

‘We will go to the nether for a minimum of an hour. Afterwards I will tell you and allow you to write it down.’

She laughed slightly at the demanding way they spoke their request but began pulling on her cloak to leave anyway.

“If this starts to corrupt me the deal’s off, understand?”

‘I wouldn’t expect anything less.’

~

“Xornoth, are you here?”

‘Always, as you well know.’

Gem rolled her eyes at the snide remark, frowning down at the book on her desk.

“I meant in the room, and not off exploring and desperately trying to scare my students. I need you to look at this.”

After the first trip to the nether Xornoth had revealed they did have their own body, so to speak, but they weren’t visible and couldn’t interact with anything. They could walk through any door or wall like it wasn’t there, but if they got too far from Gem an invisible barrier would stop them from going further. Luckily for them, most of the school was in that range when she was in her office, so they would watch classes and insult her students, much to her annoyance.

(Though if some of the less rude comments made her laugh, that was neither here nor there.)

A pause, then-

‘I have returned. You know the terms of our deal.’

“Yes, I know, time in the nether for any questions you answer. I’m still not fully convinced that’s not part of some plan by the way.” They huffed, but it was more amused than anything. “I’ve been looking through some of the books from the Elven Library and I’ve mostly been able to translate them, but this section is tripping me up. I can tell it’s a spell, but not much else.”

She pointed to a passage and Xornoth sucked in a sharp breath, though they quickly tried to play it off with a chuckle.

‘Dark magic? Wizard, I’m impressed! I’ll make a follower of you yet.’

But the laugh was strained, and there was an undercurrent of fear in their voice, something Gem picked up on instantly.

“Xornoth? What does it say? It can’t be so bad even you won’t touch it.” When they remained silent, she started to think about why they wouldn’t translate it, until she realised. “This is how to banish you, isn’t it?”

‘Wizard, you need to get rid of that page.’

“I’m not going to destroy it. Scott can read it; I’ll show it to him next time we meet. We need a last resort; in case you break out again. I promise, I won’t use it otherwise.”

She tried to keep her tone and body language reassuring, but she couldn’t help the spike of fear that went through her when they sighed regretfully.

‘I truly am sorry I have to do this.’

Before she could ask what they meant the world around her blurred, her mind going foggy and her vision tinting red. Each thought was a struggle, and she felt her eyes start to slip shut.

‘Tear out the page. Then burn it.’

Gem complied without hesitation, carefully ripping it out and setting it alight with a simple spell.

‘Put the book away. On a shelf where you won’t think to look for it again.’

It got placed to the back of one of her many bookshelves, out of sight and in a completely different section to where she would normally put it.

‘Now rest. You won’t remember any of this when you wake.’

She settled back into her chair and lay her head down on her desk, finally giving in to sleep.

~

When Gem woke up, night had long since fallen. Her back ached and a pounding headache was beginning to form.

There was a strange feeling of something missing, but Xornoth began to tease her for being so bored she fell asleep, and the thought soon slipped from her mind.

On the short flight back to her tower she bantered with them the entire way and a genuine smile crossed her face.

Despite all the hurt they had caused she found herself enjoying their comments now they no longer simply insulted everyone and everything in between trying to convince her to free them.

As she settled into her bed she thought maybe, just maybe, this situation was good for them.

She couldn’t see the guilty look that sat upon Xornoth’s face the entire time.

~

Gem sat in a meeting with Scott, Fwhip, Sausage, Pearl, and Katherine. She was finding it very difficult to concentrate for several reasons, not the least of which being Xornoth’s commentary as they poked through Scott’s bedroom.

‘Who needs this many pairs of earrings?’

‘Not a single secret room. Disappointing.’

‘What’s this? A journal?’

‘Oh, this is interesting. It looks like my brother is courting the Cod.’

Gem, who had taken a sip of water in an attempt to not react, choked. Everyone turned to her in concern, but she just stared at Scott.

“You’re dating Jimmy?” she asked in between coughs.

“I’m not!” he said, but his face went a very bright shade of red.

“Courting, then,” Gem challenged, not breaking eye contact. He spluttered for a few more moments before throwing his hands in the air in defeat.

“How do you even know that?”

Gem just raised an eyebrow, giving him the look she called the ‘I’m a wizard, how do you think I know things?’ stare. It was very effective when she didn’t have a good answer for a question, like right now. He fell back down into his chair and said something, but she didn’t hear it. Her attention was fully on the necklace that had just fallen out of his shirt, eyes following the red crystal as it swayed side to side.

A hand on her arm snapped her out of it and she looked over to see Fwhip, worry clear on his face.

“Gem? Are you ok?”

She nodded and gently pulled away, taking a few deep breaths before speaking.

“Scott, can I take a closer look at that crystal? I just need to check there’s no cracks and the magic is still working.”

‘Wizard? I’m coming back to where you are, what are you doing?’

“Xornoth’s not escaping Gem, I’d know if they were. Are you sure you’re alright?”

‘Wait, are you going to-‘

“For the last time, I’m not going to break your stupid crystal!” Gem snapped, the overwhelming amount of noise shortening her temper. She drew back as soon as she said it though, dropping her gaze. “Sorry. Haven’t been sleeping well. I need to do this Scott, just for a few minutes.”

Behind her back, the others were exchanging looks. It was clear something was going on with Gem, far more than just sleep. But after another moment of hesitation Scott nodded and lifted the chain from his neck, carefully passing it to her.

She turned it over in her hands, carefully scanning for any cracks and running a finger over it to double check. She didn’t notice how her vision tinted red, how the sounds around her muffed as if underwater, how her grip on the crystal slowly grew tighter.

She didn’t notice anything until a hand was waved in front of her face, breaking the trance. Expecting to see Fwhip she looked up, only to jump backwards when across the table, staring at her with concern, was Xornoth.

In an instant fire jumped from her staff and shot at them, only for the flames to pass straight through.

‘Rude.’

Both the staff and crystal were wrenched away from her, making the haze lift, though she didn’t move her gaze from the now empty spot, even as she was gently pushed back down into her chair.

“Gem, I need you to look at me, ok? There’s nothing there, just blank wall. I don’t know what you think is there, but you’re safe. I just need to check your eyes, make sure they’re still green.”

And she complied with Fwhip’s request, just not as he expected.

“Do you really think I would shoot at Xornoth if I was corrupted?” Gem spat, venom coating her voice as she turned to glare daggers at him, finally having lost the last of her patience. She looked around incredulously as everyone gasped, though Xornoth’s voice gave her pause.

‘You were the only one who could see me, just as you’re the only one who can hear me now. Though, I am annoyed your first instinct was to attack me.’

“I thought you escaped, it was justified,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze as the fight left her and moving to push past Fwhip towards the door. “I’m going to get some air.”

“Gem, wait,” he caught her arm as she walked towards the exit, smiling softly at her. “Let me fly you home. I know you’re just over the mountains, but it’ll make me feel better to know you’re back safe and resting. You need it.”

She wanted to argue, say she was fine and didn’t need to go home, but she really was tired and she didn’t want to be around the crystal any longer than she had to. After a few more moments of hesitation, she nodded and allowed herself to be lead away.

Throughout the whole flight home Fwhip kept glancing over at her, though what exactly he was looking for Gem couldn’t say. Red eyes? A sudden inclination for murder and chaos? It was starting to get on her already frayed nerves, but she didn’t say anything. She knew he just cared, even if he was slightly overbearing in how he showed it.

When they arrived at her room he pulled her into a tight hug, putting as much comfort in the embrace as he could.

“Get some rest, alright? If you need anything I’m nearby, just let me know.”

“I will, I promise.”

After one last squeeze he let go and she slipped inside, shutting the door with a weary sigh.

“How could I see you? Haven’t you haunted me enough?” she asked the empty air, exhaustion seeping into her voice.

Footsteps sounded outside and she froze before relaxing again. It was probably just a guard walking around the tower, nothing to worry about.

‘Proximity to the crystal must have increased the connection. When you held it, the bond grew strong enough for you to see me. I still can’t believe you tried to attack me instantly, I thought we were friends Wizard.’

They were being sarcastic, but Gem felt a grin spread across her face all the same, raising an eyebrow at the space in front of her and hoping that’s where they were standing.

“So you admit we’re friends now? I never would have guessed, the big bad Xornoth gone soft.”

‘I am not soft!’ they hissed, making Gem laugh. ‘I was mocking you and your hopes of redemption! I will escape and get my revenge!’

“Yeah yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes and starting to get ready to sleep. She hadn’t been lying when she told the others she was tired, when they were feeling particularly annoying Xornoth liked to mess with her dreams and change them into nightmares, though lately it had been more embarrassing ones that horrifying. She’d take forgetting everything she knew about magic while teaching over her friends dying in front of her any day. (She’d prefer none at all, but she took what small wins she could.) “Goodnight, Xornoth.”

Gem drifted off too fast to hear their quiet response.

‘Goodnight, Wizard. Sleep well.’

~

Fwhip felt guilty spying on his sister, but he knew there was more happening than what she was letting on. So, he listened at her door after saying goodbye, hoping to get even the smallest clue about what had happened.

“How could I see you? Haven’t you haunted me enough?”

She sounded close to crying, and his guilt increased tenfold. He slipped away as quietly as possible, scolding himself for even thinking about it. Maybe Katherine had something to help nightmares, though he knew he would have to trick Gem into taking it. Redstone only knew she wouldn’t accept the help otherwise.

He flew off, not realising how he had only just missed a conversation that would have answered all his questions.

[thecolordemon]

Haha hi :) I already asked but I wanna do it properly here. So, can I request headcanons abt the brothers reactions after knowing that MC had an incurable disease and they're gonna die soon? Thanks! 💕 (Btw I LOVE ur drawing)

Of course you can😊 It will be my first time writing Angst in the english language🤣😅 but I hope you'll enjoy it either way because who doesn't like to suffer a little bit? @flyme--tothemoon I added some shortstorys to the headcanon because...I couldn't help myself.

Request: Headcanons-How would the brothers react after knowing that MC had an incurable disease and that they're gonna die soon?🥺😭

⚠️Angst, Sadness, mentions of illness and death⚠️

*Lucifer*:

he noticed some sickenly sweet scent lingering over your small frame since you arrived in Devildom

but he couldn't put his finger on it

he never lived among humans how could he know?

he couldn't

and that's the whole point

he asks you about it during having dinner with all of the brothers

when your laughter dies down everything else turns quiet too

he knows immediately that something is wrong

"Did someone else noticed it too?" you ask without looking up

they nod

"Well...I guess...I have to tell you something."

Angsty/Sad Short story (other brothers below):

They all looked at you with big eyes. Filled with questions and worries because of the sad little smile that crept on your face and conquered your lips like a dark sky swallowing the sun. All of them noticed that sickenly sweet scent over your normal aroma. They just didn't thought that it would be such a big deal... "Well...I guess...I have to tell you something."

You cleared your throat and put down your cutlery. It was weird...I kind of felt like the day where you got your deadly diagnosis.

But this time you were the doctor.

And your beloved demons were the patients.

You knew that you couldn't hide it from them forever. Being here was like a daydream and it made you forget your disease a little bit more every day. Living with the demons brought so much new adventures in your life that the illness seemed so far away. It was like you left it at home. In the human world. Somewhere where it couldn't reach you. Throughout the day you never wasted a single thought about your approaching death. And why would you? Death was unavoidable. In the end everbody dies...Just for you it meant, that death would greet you a little bit sooner.

"Two years ago...I fainted. I was not feeling good for a...very, very long time after this. And it did not get better. I thought I hit my head a little bit to hard on the concrete. I...vomited very often and that one night my parents took me to a hospital because of it. They wanted to make sure that I'm okay..." You stopped and looked down at you fingers which were intertwined with the black tablecloth. This night was branded inside your mind like a tattoo you never asked for. Neither did you like it. The brothers did not dare to interrupt you. You could just feel them all staring at you. It was so quiet...so terribly quiet.

"It truned out that...I have a very dangerous disease." you continued. The swallowing felt so much harder now...like something big and bitter was stuck in your throat. "And...sadly...there is no cure..." The bitterness stung in your eyes and you had to fight back the hot upcoming tears. The hopeless and shocked faces of your family were something you could never possibly forget. And right now all of the brothers had this exact same shattered expression on their faces. You bit your bottom lip and your nails digged into the soft skin of you thighs.

"...Is it...deadly?" Lucifer asked and his voice sounded oddly thin. For a little while you did nothing but to stare into space. You did not want them to see you cry. Not when you had to be strong for them again...but then you nodded.

"yes." you breathed. "Yes, it's deadly. They said I have 3 years left-"

The following opressive silence was broken when some of the brothers shifted uncomfortably in their seats. One of them dropped a knife. But nobody saied something. It was like some higher power turned the volume of the universe down. 'Well-' you thought to yourself. 'Maybe this is what shock sounds like...' When you forced yourself to look up, the effects of your confession showed.

All of them were pale. Nobody seemed to breath. Nobody talked. You could see them falling when you looked into their eyes. They were all being swallowed by the big black hole that was your disease and there was no safe shore in sight. You broke them...

All of them.

"I'm so sorry-" you whispered. "I'm sorry for doing this to you." None of them reacted. You couldn't stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks anymore. The salty liquid dribbled over your warm skin like raindrops over glass and ran down to your chin. "I wanted to tell you but--I couldn't-you all made me feel so good that finally I stopped worrying about it-I didn't mean to hurt you--please forgive me-" The sobs came out of your mouth like little hickups.

'They hate me--they hate me for breaking them-I'm a terrible person-'

Lucifer suddenly stood up. His jaw was clenched and his hands were balled into fists. He shoved his chair back and walked around the dinner table until he stood before you. Sadness and anger radiated of him like a upcoming thunderstorm and it scared you.

Would he hurt you? Would he send you back? Would he banish you from the Devildom?

You thoughts were interrupted when he suddenly embraced you in a very thight hug. His fingertips digged deep into the flesh of you back and he hold you so close as if you were going to disappear right on the spot. It took your breath away. "L-Lucifer?-"

The avatar of pride trembled. And there was something wet in your hair...was he crying?! Finally he spoke. His voice broken like a shattered mirror. "You're--telling us--that you're going to die--and still you're-apologizing for it?!-" His grip thightend. "I thought you would hate me now--" you cried desperately. His hug send shivers down your spine. "MC, you're part of our family-We could never hate you-" His voice broke again. "I'm the one who needs to apologize! I ripped you away from your human family! While you have such little time left-I brought you here without checking your whole background-my research was horrible and icomplete-I am the one who has to apologize! Not you! Not you!!" He grabbed you by your shoulders and now you were able to see it. He was really crying. Lucifer, the avatar of pride, was crying. His crimson red eyes were glassy and shimmered with so much regret.

"No-No don't say this Lucifer, please--I'm so happy here--this is my home too-I'm so glad I got the chance to meet all of you-" Your hand reached his wet cheek and he shivered when you did so. "You all made my time so much better than I could've ever imagined-And I'm so grateful-" You whimpered and burried your face in Lucifer's red tie. Your attention was pulled towards Mammon when you heared his sobbing.

*Mammon*:

"This--this is not fair--" Mammon stood up too and he trembled like an earthquake was running through his body. "Finally I meet someone who is nice to me-someone who listens to me-someone who doesn't treat me like shit or like I'm dump--and now-" His thin voice broke in a shaky cry. "I fucking love you-" He broke down and fell to his knees, his face twisted in deep hurt and despair. His glasses and cheeks were already covered in hot, steamy tears and his hands fisted into the rough carpet. Satans hand touched his back but even he did not know what to do. It was a sad single try to calm Mamon down but it didn't work. "Mammon--" you breathed with a hitching voice while still beeing hugged by Lucifer. "I'm sorry-"

"QUIET APOLOGIZING, WILL YA?!" he screamed and then went back to crying hopelessly. His horns showed. He was interrupted by Leviathan's weak voice.

*Leviathan*:

"I-I don't understand-", he whispered and stood next to the quivering Mammon. He looked like he saw a ghost. He was so pale that it looked like he was starting to disappear. His eyes were red and the tears streamed down like little waterfalls. His small frame trembled uncontrollably and his hands were deep inside his pockets. "We were having so much fun together-we were staying up all night together to play videogames-and now this all is--ending?" A new wave of tears gushed over his face. "This wasn't healthy at all--I hurt you-I didn't knew--I-I'm sorry-" His fingers fisted into his lilac hair and he pulled harshly as if he tried to wake himself from this nightmare. "You're my friend---" Asmodeus tried to stop him. "You will get bold-stop-" But he was also not in a good condition. Neither was Satan.

*Satan*:

He normally really payed close attention to his mimic and gesture. But right now...He couldn't even think straight. It was clearly visible that he was deeply upset and his left hand massages his torso like he had a heart attack. "MC-why didn't you tell us sooner?-" There were tears appearing in the corner of his eyes. "I read so much--maybe we could find a magic cure-I newly read a paragraph about-" But you interrupted him right away. "Satan--I know you want to stop it but--there is no solution in no book-I talked with Simeon about it-I asked if he could miracle it away--but he couldn't. He said that only guardian angles are allowed to do such a thing--and they have to be very powerful to do that-and since there are people on earth living under worse conditions-" Your voice broke and Satan looked away in shame when he couldn't stop the tears anymore. He hated not being in control-He would lose you-.

*Asmodeus*:

"God does not throw dice-" Asmodeus whimpered and everyone looked at him. His beautiful eyes were red and puffy from all the crying and not beautiful at all. It looked like he had a terrible allergy against something unknown. But right now he couldn't care less about his appearance. "That's something I always hated about god--They say there is a reason for everything but they won't tell you an actual reason--and then you're still stuck with your problems all by yourself-" He cried out in despair and hid his face behind his fingers. "-without a solution-" he added with a very thin voice. That was just to much for him and he had to cuddle up to Satan for more support. "How can they leave you to die--you-such a perfect human being like you-you should be the top of their creation-how is this possible-." His pink painted fingernails clawed over his flawless skin and left red stripes. He looked like a locked up animal-trying to break free.

*Beelzebub*:

Beelzebub is a quiet soul by nature. Not a man of big and a lot words. And now he seems even more quiet than before. He can't wrap his head around this new, horrible informations. He grew so fond of you, he needs you, you make him feel better-Fuck it all you brought his brother back! And now you're going to be punished with-Death?! That's not fair at all-that's not okay-he can't lose you-not like he lost Belphie-not like he lost Lillith-he-. With big steps he walked towards you and Lucifer. He towers above both of you like a big mountain that's ready to collapse. Without hestiation he pulls you and his oldest brother into a crushing hug. Tears dribble down from his face into your hair and mix with Lucifer's tears. "We can't lose you MC-your family-family means that nobody gets left behind-."

*Belphegor*:

He is the calmest of his brothers. At least it seems like that. He is just sitting there processing what you just said. You are going to die. In less than a year actually. You're going to die and this means that you're going to leave. His eyes flutter in confusion. He was never upset about humans dying. That's what they do. They live, they die. It's that simple. He knew that. He always knew that. He also knew that you were going to die. One day.

...But why so fast?! Why so damn fast?! His heart beats harder, nearly bursting with anger. His tail and horns appear and his whole demon form starts to mainfest in front of you and his brothers. "No!!", he shouts. "I'm not having this! We need to do something-we-" His eyes land on you and that's just to much. "Who do you think you are?! Huh?! You come down here and wreck our worlds, you live with us, you eat with us-you improve our lifes-and-now--" His tail flinches with agression. Belphie's eyes are drowing in tears as his angers makes place for the deep grief that takes over his whole body. He also, like Mammon, falls to his knees. "You can't leave Mc--I need you-"

(Okay I'm gonna leave now, I cried a little bit while writing and...yeah...maybe I'm just sensitive🥺 I hope it's angsty enough though...)

[diary-of-an-onliner]

feet on the ground [f.w.]

word count: 3381

warnings: none

a/n: this is based on, and a counterpart/continuation of @ickle-ronniekins 's head in the clouds — thanks for the inspo babe, this one is for you

Fred Weasley was not happy. Sure, he had made a lot of questionable, or as other people like to say 'bad', decisions in his life, but taking Care of Magical Creatures was one of the worst. Yes, it made Hagrid ecstatic, and that's always a good thing to see; yes, it's useful for his future business. However a hellfire-cracken the size of a shoebox was making him rethink his choices.

For the lack of a better distraction, he focused on digging a hole in the grass with his trainer as Hagrid’s rumbled instructiones flew over his head, missing both ears and zooming away into an indifferent oblivion. George is taking this already, he looked to George, who was quite enchanted with his partner, and thoroughly enjoying it, couldn't we have split up? He kicked the dirt lightly, startling the girl next to him.

Neither Fred nor his Slytherin partner were thrilled with each other,but misery loves company, so it might be for the best.

"How's the weather up there?" said his partner, who was crouching eye — er, shell-level, with the creature, but keeping her distance nonetheless. Her hair waved and flickered on her shoulder as she bounced on her heels.

"Immaculate, thanks for asking." he said, not wanting to get closer to the scorpion-lobster lovechild from the asshole of hell. "Y'know Hagrid said those things burn, bite, and sting, right?"

"So do I.” she said sarcastically, still keeping her gaze tied to the monster. “I'm not going to touch it, I'm just looking. You're aware we need to sketch it, label its parts and write an essay about it later?" Fred shifted his weight from foot to foot restlessly.

"Yes." his nostrils flared.

She pursed her lips and, after a moment of silence, said: "I dare you to touch it."

He crossed his arms. "I am not taking dares from you. We met three minutes ago and I haven't enjoyed a second of it."

"What's up your ass?" she turned to him, still crouching. "Actually, I don't care. Just don't take it out on me." The creature clicked their — tail? — pincers? — their something.

"I wasn't—" she raised an eyebrow and he fell silent, and looked away.

"'m not very thrilled to be here." he mumbled. "And that ugly death trap isn't making it better. Can we start over?" he asked, sighing and tiredly sweeping his left hand through his hair, and offering his right to her.

She took it and pulled herself up, then promptly smoothed out her skirt, shook his still proffered hand, and introduced herself.

Unlike his messy untucked shirt, her uniform was pressed down to the socks and her shoes held no traces of mud. It gave her a calculating, and slightly cold aura, as if she was drawn with a set of rulers and a compass. She was probably more geometrical than anyone who had ever taken Care of Magical Creatures.

"Fred." he said, even though she knew.

"Well Fred, we will be working together on this Blast-Ended Skrewt for the next few weeks, so that 'ugly death trap’ is our son you're talking about." she chided with a smile that better belonged on a sly fox rather than a girl.

"You sound very attached to it." he shot back. An idea, a thought, a silver of a notion that this might be fun slithered along the floor of his skull.

"Him.” She corrected with her pointer finger in the air. “And it's called being a good parent." she lightly jabbed him in the chest.

"Okay then. Go pet your son." Fred smirked.

They turned toward the beast which was playing in the grass like a puppy. It seemed to be wiggling its tails.

Her eyes narrowed: "Which part is the head?"

"I don't know. We should probably figure it out, since the other side shoots flames." he said in an amused tone.

"It's supposed to be a sucker, so it might be the penis-looking side." he chuckled, but when she turned to stare at him expectantly, his red eyebrow jumped in question. A breeze ruffled their hair.

"Go on then, don't be shy, we need to compare." she said flatly.

He burst out laughing so hard, a few people around them turned to stare - quite a dangerous thing to do at the moment seeing as some of the beasts started snipping. A yelp sounded from afar, and Fred laughed even harder.

At least his partner is funny.

"Seriously though, this thing is going to fire-fart on us soon and we need to figure it out."

“You don’t feel better in nature?” her tone piqued as she turned the pages of a book. Their desk was covered with them, during the first of their many study meetings.

“No.” Fred played with his quill, spinning it through his fingers. “You do?”

“I feel clearer, especially near water.”, thump, she shut her book and discarded it.

“How come?” he balanced on the back legs of his chair, eyes darting around.

“I don’t know. It’s not a thing I question.”, flip, flip, flip, “It just lures me out of my head, and makes me feel a little more real, like I’m aware of my own existence. Sharper, yknow?”

Fred shook his head.

“I don’t have a need to get out of my head, it’s great in there.” he joked. She snorted and passed him a book with a piece of paper sticking out.

“Don’t you? You seem to be in there a lot though. I think you think too much.” Fred chukled, “That’s something I've never been told.”

“Then it’s about time.” she threw his way, but she had yet to look at him, Fred noted. The idea of her as geometrical played around in his head. “Try it next time. People exist a little sharper sometimes. It stops you from feeling like you’re going to float away.” her eyes finally flickered to him like two needles of her compasses, and shot him down. His chair hit the ground.

Before Fred had a chance to say something else or roll her idea around in his brain, she passed him a piece of parchment with a soft order to, “Write.”

His diagram of their unnamed child was much neater than hers, but his illegible handwriting distracted from it perfectly.

"That is not a t."she said, her hair almost electrified from stress-combing it with her hands.

"It's obviously a g." he chirped, but his tone sounded worn down all the same. She squinted at the paper with her mouth open for a moment, then gave up.

"How are you still this peppy?" she asked as her gaze lazily rolled itself away from the books. His tie was completely undone and being used as a bookmark, his shirt unbuttoned and ruffled like his hair, ha, carrot head!, but he took no note of it as he balanced on the back legs of his chair again. Every so often, a clank would sound amid their conversation when the chair struck against the stone floor and his feet hit the ground, before he leaned back again.

"What are you talking about? I'm knackered." he yawned.

She looked up, and her thoughts leaked out of her head. The scenery through the window behind him was gorgeous, lit on fire by the dusk— oversaturated reds and pinks which lined the dark purple clouds.

With a loud tap on the library floor, the front legs of Fred's chair touched the ground and his head covered the sun perfectly, giving him a golden lining and making his orange hair melt into the background. The clear lines of his face looked almost chiseled in contrast to the haziness behind him.

A weight settled in the center of her torso, an iron bowling ball rolling between her stomach and her heart. He was handsome. She knew this. But she used to know it the way one knows they should drink water when they’re thirsty. Knowing you needed it after you drink him in, swallow, and sign, is another story.

She felt a warm metal line grow out of her chest, like a vine towards the sunlight, enter his chest and settle.

For a few moments she imagined it. She tried to note the dragging sensation of warm iron and let herself be pulled to him. She imagined the ball rolling in his center, and all his squirming being in an attempt to adjust it instead of just staying awake.

Then she blinked. Took in the real scene. Despite being exhausted, she felt tranquil in their little corner filled with books and a few very ugly sketches. She picked one up.

“Are we allowed to call his head a dick?” She questioned, but Fred just yawned and shrugged. His chair tipped back again.

“You’ll hurt yourself.” She said flatly, words moving from line to line like trains with the shittiest track designs ever.

“The thrill keeps me awake.” he closed his eyes, hair still a burning red. She didn’t dare look at the Sun for too long. Her eyes tried to follow the words. The ball rolled.

He slid another sketch towards her. “I think we should use this one.”

She put the first one aside, their hands brushing as she took the new parchment. She heard the scraping of his chair on the floor as he moved closer until his collarbone pressed against her shoulder as he leaned over to point. The body heat he was emitting only reminded her of the weariness her body carried. It also refashioned her bowling ball into an anchor slowly sinking through her stomach, tickling her insides on the way down.

The sketch was neater and much simpler than others, no more than a handful of black lines on a yellowing parchment.

“This part is the head.” Fred pointed out. “I think. It looks weird and there isn’t exactly a good reference for a randomly cross-bred demon.” He seemed so focused on his drawing that she got the feeling he was avoiding her eyes intentionally. Stupid, really. They’re both just tired and have a lot of work.

Look at me.

He didn’t.

She banished all her stupid silly thoughts, and tried to turn to the books for the next few hours.

Fred stayed circling warmly on the edge of her orbit, moving around her but never looking, never acknowledging her as anything other than a voice and a pair of friendly working hands. The silly stupid thread she felt earlier vibrated. She didn't bring it up for fear they wouldn't finish all their work if she were to derail the conversation, so she waited until the end of their study session.

However, when the anticipated end neared, his chair hit the stone the last time and when she turned to him, Fred was lying on his arms on the table, asleep. His outline was as bright and as sharp as ever, but his face was soft and smooth from relaxation, like a marble statue melting. The anchor in her stomach lurch up at the sight, but she swallowed it down, smiled, and laid her head on the table too.

Another sunny afternoon had George almost skipping to his quirky partner. And Fred was glad, he liked to see his brother happy and loved teasing him for being in love even more — but he still hated the bloody beasts. He was thankful for George's efforts to cheer him up, but Fred refused to move out from under his personal gloomy cloud, choosing to carry it alone instead, the way one would an umbrella.

As soon as George mentions his partner, he knows it's time to leave him to his beloved, as he does, with minimal mocking involved (—but come on!).

As Fred approached her, he saw her roll her eyes. Funny. Something about knowing she's as un-excited as he is made his chest swell up with what can only be described as the sudden understanding of the real depth of companionship between you and a stranger, an acquaintance, a friend. I might not like this, but I am not alone.

"They're four feet long already. Your future sister-in-law," said his partner, gesturing to George's love with her head, at which Fred smiled warmly, "said we only get to work with them for another class. I think she might cry." His clouds stopped thundering.

"Don't be rude." he replied but did not sound angry in the least.

"I'm not. She's a nice girl and God bless her for being passionate about this. We need people like her, otherwise the rest of us would have to care as well." she reasoned.

"There's that warm and welcoming Slytherin care I've heard all about." he said sarcastically.

"Rude. Gingers truly are soulless." Fred got nudged in the ribs.

"Oi!"

"Oi yourself!" she flipped her hair and flashed her foxy smile. No, it's fox-like. "Don't start things you can't finish."

"Well, I'm ready to be done with this thing." he looked pointedly at the snapping creature reaching out to them like a baby in a cot.

They received their instructions from Hagrid to feed, entertain, and check the health of the creature and set off to work. After a few minutes of silence, Fred spoke.

"I think there's something wrong with this thing." he squinted.

"Him." She corrected, "He's our son."

"Well I think our son is pregnant." Fred’s face soured.

“No way." she replied, kneeling closer to the beast than she'd ever dared before. "How do you know?"

"A hunch?" Fred shrugged his very nicely shaped shoulders. No! "I'm not sure. It did eat three times as much as the others. It should be a lot fatter."

"He." She absent-mindedly corrected, trying to get a good enough look.

"He doesn't look sick but he's being weird." he squatted next to her, bouncing on his heels.

"Maybe he's lonely. We both ditched a few times." She bumped her knee into his. "I dare you to touch him."

Fred laughed as he turned to her. "I'm not that commited of a father. You do it."

"Why me? You need to do something too!" she whined as their son approached in a rather puppy-like gait, as if he was going to rub against their legs, and Fred's gaze slipped off her, like that day in the library.

"I'll do whatever you want.” he paused "Within reason, of course."

"Touch him."

"Within reason."

"Fine." their dark-shelled son stood before them now, but they were not as hesitant this time. The beast looked at Fred with either his head or his stinger (how is it still not clear?).

Slowly and shakily, her hand reached out. She almost withdrew it, but it already made contact with their son's back and he made a sound similar to purring, which was both surprising and unsettling. Her face bent in disgust as her entire palm pressed against his black shell, gleaming maroon in the sunlight.

"Ew. He's slimy." she detached her hand to see a catran-like substance coating it. "How is he slimy?"

Fred's nose was scrunched as well but an amused gleam flickered on his face nonetheless. “Disgusting.”

"Well, I did it." she complained, trying to wipe her hand on his arm, but he rose to his feet quickly, laughing.

“Keep that to yourself.” Fred warned, trying to avoid her swift attempts to use him as a rag.

“Come on!” She whined. “We’re in this together. If I have to be gross then so do you.” she jumped up after Fred.

He felt weightless as he maneuvered around her and the clawing beast that still purred by their feet, and he realized how warm the sunlight was. His little cloud was gone. In that distracted second of their impromptu three-creature quickstep, she wrapped her clean hand around his hand and pulled herself closer to him.

She grinned from ear to ear, and Fred felt her wet, cold hand sliding down his shoulder. She wiped a few times down his arm and chest with a wickedly satisfied look in her face as he wondered why he didn’t mind it so much. His eyes danced over her face the way his trainers had over the grass mere seconds ago.

“What?” she asked. Wait, she was speaking.

“Um, nothing.” his face rearranged itself from a goofy smile (What?) and he looked at his stained shirt. Before he even had time to comment, her voice made the center of his stomach tighten.

“Do you think he'd lick one if she asked?” Fred followed her gaze to George, looking as dreamy as his partner who was purring back at their Blast-Ended Skrewt. Sunlight covered them too.

Her hand still held onto him.

Fred sighed, both amused and lightheaded from a new discovery threatening to unveil its face in his mind. George laughed so loudly it reached Fred’s ears, and he responded, “Yes.”

“Would you lick one for me?” she batted her eyelashes.

“Absolutely not.” he said without missing a beat.

“What kind of a father won't even lick his own son?” she put a hand on her chest, faux-horrified.

“I still think our son is pregnant.” he said, grinning at her.

“What kind of a father won't lick his own pregnant son?” she humored.

“You're making this worse than it has to be.”

Her eyebrow rose as she offered: “You can always do this alone?”

“No.” something ugly and covered in spikes spun in Fred's stomach.

“Well then,” she said smugly, as if she knew, “you need to start cooperating.” She tugged on his arm with her hand that was there the whole time. Her arm slid around his as she pulled him along, and Fred adjusted his collar with his fingers. When did they get so far away from the group?

“You don’t pet him, you don’t groom him with your tongue like a cat, what do you do? I haven’t seen you change a single diaper!” she over-exaggerated. “I’m basically a single mother!”

He laughed and apologized, feeling lighter and sharper than he had all day.

His future sister-in-law was wrong. They worked on their loving, puppy-like hell scorpions for three more classes, and had another one in a classroom, correcting their essays. During that class, they found out that their son really was pregnant, at which they laughed all the way to the Great Hall.

Fred felt something heavy rolling over his intestines when he thought of the end. It wound itself around his organs until his lips dropped. Nevertheless, he grinned at George (who definitely saw through him), and, with his chin up like a proud lion, departed from him to sit next to his partner, one last time.

He thought about her more often than he expected to, and he feared he might have to stop soon.

As he slid next to her, his metaphorical tail curled closer to him. She beamed brightly at him, and offered her closed fist.

“You ready, partner?”

No, he curled his fingers with a smile, I don’t think I am, and bumped their hands together.

“Doesn’t have to end? Didn't you listen?” she asked him incredulously as he caught up with her. He couldn’t say he has, as his ears buzzed deafeningly loudly since they received their O.

Maybe she had a point when she said there were moments when people felt more defined as he was more sure than ever that he existed in the corridor leading to the Care of Magical Creatures classroom, as his limbs filled with lead at the way she spoke.

“I just thought if you—” his mouth shit on its own. “You know—”

“Holy shit, you really didn’t listen?” but this time she laughed. “Hagrid said we can pick our own partners for the next project.” Her arm curled around his own, “So unless you want to dump me, we march on.”

Whatever heavy thing has been making his stomach a winter home the past week flew off to their summer residence.

She definitely had a point about grounded moments, because when her hand squeezed his arm, the lead leaked out and the awareness of every part of his body slammed into focus.

And Fred smiled back.

She smiled promisingly at him, his heart stuttered, and his sneakers sunk into the stone beneath him.

[imaginedhaven]

Rules of Engagement: Chapter Sixteen

Link to Masterpost

Well, I couldn’t wait TOO long to bring you this one! Enjoy!

~*~*~

Rowan stared at Aelin, knowing his face would show his shock. He knew by now that Aelin rarely did anything without a reason, but he couldn’t fathom why she was asking such questions of Maeve when the sensible thing to do would be to run and never look back. She had stolen him away from Maeve’s clutches, she had even gotten answers from her about her parents.

His icy heart had cracked when she’d wrung that confession from the queen. He’d known, of course, that Maeve could be cruel and vindictive. He’d also known that she never forgot or forgave someone who crossed her, not truly. Oh, she would say she had offered forgiveness readily enough. It was what had convinced him to swear to her, after all, her offer of forgiveness for everything that had come to pass with Lyria and for losing himself for as long as he had.

He had since come to learn that forgiveness didn’t come attached to a string, much less a web of half-truths and outright deceit. Forgiveness didn’t ask for the completion of difficult tasks, or for the surrender of free will.

Forgiveness was Aelin burning away his guilt and his doubts with a simple smile. Forgiveness was how he had nearly ruined everything they could come to share with his own foolish nerves, but she had come to Doranelle to demand he be freed regardless.

No, a creature like Maeve could never exhibit true forgiveness. She was too self-serving, too arrogant, too cold and cruel. Which was why Rowan was certain, so certain, that Aelin would have realized that she was at a significant advantage with the concessions already granted and leave before Maeve could turn the tables.

Deep down, he supposed he should have known she would see a possible vulnerability and seek to press that advantage, take as much from Maeve as she could possibly get. It was a fighter’s instinct, a move from someone who knew they would never get this opportunity again.

Maeve pursed her lips before responding, voice tight with barely-restrained anger. “I know a great deal more than you could pretend to, child.”

“I’m certain that you do; our histories indicate that you were present for the war, after all.” Aelin was back to carefully examining her fingernails rather than looking at the queen, her posture that of idle nonchalance. To a casual observer, it would appear that Aelin was already bored of the conversation, but Rowan knew this was all a part of a carefully calculated act. He was more than familiar with her character as Celaena Sardothien, and he could see that she was using that mask one last time.

At least, he sincerely hoped it would be one last time. He had no greater wish for her than for her to be able to be truly herself once more.

“And what question is it that you seek answers for?” For all of Maeve’s posturing, for all of her tight control over her tone, Rowan could see through to the vulnerability within. He had spent centuries at her side, doing her bidding, and this was something he had never seen from the dark queen.

Maeve was afraid.

“They were said to be terrible creatures, weren’t they? The Valg, I mean. Demons from another world, with the power to possess humans and Fae alike.” Aelin’s words were light in tone, careful and precise. “I heard the princes, or the kings like Erawan, were even more powerful. They could take on their own form and walk among us. They could manipulate shadows, or a person’s very thoughts. Is that true?”

“It is,” Maeve replied, “and you should be grateful that I worked with your ancestors to banish them all back to their home.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s true,” Aelin said, “but that’s a different question. No, what I was wondering was something else. What sort of power do you imagine one of their queens would have possessed?”

Maeve hesitated for a moment, clearly debating whether or not to answer the question at all. “It was said,” she finally replied, “that the queens were even more powerful than the kings. Given that the kings were difficult enough to kill or banish, I would think most would hesitate before battling a queen of the Valg.”

“How interesting,” Aelin remarked, her eyes focused now on the ground near Maeve’s feet. What on earth was she doing? “I read that the princes could manipulate your thoughts, force you to relive your darkest moments so they could feed on your despair. If a prince could do that to one person, do you suppose a queen could do that to many?”

“I suppose it’s possible,” Maeve allowed.

“I’m sure you’re wondering exactly what my questions have to do with… well, everything, really.” Aelin laughed, and Rowan could feel himself frowning. He certainly wondered what game she was playing. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you wondering for long.”

The arrogant smirk of Celaena Sardothien crossed Aelin’s face again as she finally looked the queen in the eye. “Did you know,” she finally asked, “that Brannon of the Wildfire was able to locate histories before he fled to Terrasen that claim there were only two sister-queens of the Fae?”

Distantly, Rowan knew the sensations coursing through his body were those of shock. His vision narrowed and went slightly grey, and his hands and feet were tingling. He could hardly focus on such things, however, given the implications of Aelin’s pointed question, hurled like a knife at a female who was turning out to be far more deadly than either of them could have known. To have convinced the entire world that there were always three sisters… that was more power than Rowan could comprehend.

Too late, he noticed the shadows lancing at them from the floor. Even if his reflexes had been at their best, he couldn’t have avoided this attack. Instead, he looked at Aelin, horror dawning on his face.

Aelin smiled back at him…

And then threw herself between Rowan and the shadows.

He could hear a voice screaming in the distance. It took several seconds for him to recognize it as his own.

~*~*~

Aelin gritted her teeth against the force of the blast but held strong as the shadows—or perhaps the female controlling them—shrieked, throwing a desperate line of fire between herself and Rowan to ensure he would remain safe.

As she had suspected from her research but not had time to prove, the ring she had continued to wear on her thumb was indeed a protective ward—bespelled for Athril, friend of Brannon’s and former lover of the very female she faced now, an unnamed goddess’ gift granting protection against the powers of the Valg. Rowan would have been injured, or killed, or worse had the shadows managed to reach him, but though they could bring her almost to her knees with their strength they could not actually touch her.

Finally the shadows ebbed, and she stood against a backdrop of her own flame. “Queen Maeve of the Fae,” she declared, “if that truly is your name, I must confess I have misled you until this point. My true charge, and my truest accusation, is not that of the murder of my parents. You stand accused of deceiving Mab and Mora—deceiving the world—as to your true nature, to hide amongst the Fae whilst your brethren tortured and killed us. You stand accused of being that which you professed to aid in killing, for whatever unknown purpose you may have had.”

Aelin summoned a small flame into each hand, a further reminder of her power. “You stand accused, my dear aunt, of being a Queen not of the Fae, but of the Valg. How do you plead?”

Maeve only laughed, the sound high and cold, though her eyes remained fixed on the fire Aelin controlled. “You think yourself clever, but you will never leave this place alive to utter such an accusation unless it is by my own choosing.”

“How, exactly, do you plan to stop me?”

“Surely you’ve realized by now that only two of my blood-sworn are in this room. While I believe that either of them would prove more than your match, I have called the others here. They will arrive within mere minutes.” A bluff, Aelin realized; at least one of them was too far away to be recalled in any haste.

“And I’m certain you’ve guessed by now that I did not come alone either,” Aelin retorted. “Nor am I a fool. You may strike me down if you so please, but it will only serve as further evidence to the rest of the world. War will be upon your doorstep if you do not yield, a war you have sought to avoid for centuries.”

She began to feel a weakness in her knees, and a cramping sensation toward the base of her spine. Maeve wouldn’t have to defeat her outright, she realized. If she merely kept Aelin talking for a few minutes more, she would be at the point of a burnout. And yet she could not risk lowering the curtain of flame that protected Rowan, not when she had only just won him away from the female who sat before her.

No, she had to hold on, for as long as she could manage.

“Your ancestor’s little book can be discredited easily enough,” Maeve sneered. “A bastard, who was no one until he fought in the wars and then fled across the sea, is no historian.”

“Perhaps you underestimate how well-loved Brannon Galathynius was by his people. They remember him kindly, as an honest male who was so brave, who shone with a fire so bright, that even the goddess of flame herself was entranced. Think about that, about an honor you will never know. A goddess gave up her immortal life for him. An act like that reverberates for ages to come, and does much to credit his word.”

Maeve shrugged with an air of indifference, but her cold and calculating eyes remained locked on Aelin and her flames. “There’s no way of knowing if your little book was even written by Brannon. I certainly don’t recall him writing one, and it is not disputed that I was present for these events.”

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of her face, and the hairs at the back of her neck were already drenched with it. She had to end this, and soon. “I grow weary of your games,” she snapped. “You’ve heard the accusation. How do you plead?”

“If it is answers you seek, you will find none here.” Shadows grew once more around Maeve’s feet, gathering around their mistress. “And you grow weary of more than simply games. You haven’t the strength to carry out any sentence you could deign to bestow upon me.”

Aelin laughed. “Oh, but surely you know.”

Maeve snarled, revealing elongated canines for the first time. “Know what?”

“Know that I don’t have to have the strength myself.” As she lowered the shield of flame protecting Rowan from the shadows, she drew her blade across her hand and called him to her. A quick slice across his palm and their hands clasped together as they had what felt like a lifetime ago.

Cold, swirling, ancient power slammed into her, and then there was only fire.

~*~*~

“What are you doing here?” the warrior—no, his father—hissed. “No, on second thought, don’t tell me. Don’t tell me anything about why you’re here, don’t tell me you’re who I suspect you are. You shouldn’t be here, it’s not safe.”

“You’re…” The words died in Aedion’s throat. “You’re the one Whitethorn warned me about,” he finally managed.

“Whitethorn? Rowan is back?” His father sighed. “Don’t tell me. The less I know, the better. I’m only supposed to be patrolling, there’s a chance I won’t have to get involved.”

“Involved in what, exactly? The queen’s dirty work, I would imagine.” The words came out bitter, more bitter than Aedion had intended. He didn’t know why exactly his father had left, whether it was the only protection he could give or whether whatever glory he had sought as a warrior had won over any family he could have. He’d told himself for years that he didn’t care. Aelin and her parents had been as much a family to him as he could have asked for, and he had set his thoughts of his farther aside, thinking they were unnecessary and could be forgotten.

He should have known that one day all of those ignored thoughts and feelings would come back to haunt him, though he could never have guessed that it would be in this way, with the male who should have raised him now standing between him and Aelin.

A scream sounded from the inside of the room, sounding suspiciously like Whitethorn. What was going on in that room? Aelin had told him her suspicions, her belief that the ring given to her by Dorian was unintentionally the best protection she could have acquired for this exact situation, but what if she had been wrong?

Aedion’s blood ran cold at the thought that his cousin could be injured, or worse, and he wasn’t there to help her.

His father, on the other hand, barely even grimaced, though his tawny eyes revealed a deep sadness. “I would say she was not always like this, but I’m afraid I would be lying. When it was only my own life I had to worry about, I paid it no mind. What good was my life, without a cause such as hers? For all her flaws, she protected my people. It turned out that I was good at protecting them as well—good enough to attract her attention. But know this. If you are who I suspect—and do not tell me if you are—then your mother changed everything.”

A shriek came from the room, high and cold and angry, and this time his father did flinch. That didn’t stop him from speaking, however. “For the first time in my life, I had something that mattered. And I realized what would happen if it ever came to light. Hiding our relationship would never be enough, not when all she would have to do was command me to speak the truth and it would all be revealed.”

“And so you left.” Aedion dimly realized his hands were trembling. He didn’t know what to think, what to say, what to do. Not when everything had changed so suddenly.

“And so I left, knowing that I would never be able to see her again. I couldn’t even risk knowing any more than was necessary about her life. She knew why, though. Before I left, I told her everything. I told her to keep it secret, to keep herself safe. I warned her to never come looking for me. It was without a doubt the most difficult choice I’ve ever had to make, but at the same time there was never a choice. There was only this. And there… there is not enough time in all the world to tell you everything. In fact, we only have a few more moments before her orders will demand that I bring you to her.”

“What would you have me do? I cannot abandon my—”

“Don’t tell me,” his father snapped. “And what I would have you do does not matter. All that matters right now is keeping you safe. And if that means sending you away from here, then so be it.”

“And if I don’t leave?”

“Then—” the words of the other male stopped short as he stumbled, hand going to his chest in what appeared to be an automatic gesture.

“What is it?” Aedion asked.

“The oath—it’s… but it cannot be.” The words came slowly, their speaker clearly deep in disbelief. He glanced down at his hands, and then back up at Aedion.

As one, they looked at the door to the audience chamber, where all had gone suddenly silent. Then they ran to the door, forcing it open and gaping at what lay beyond.

~*~*~

By the time the flames died out, there was nothing left of Maeve but a smoky black stain on the white stone floor. Aelin slowly let go of Rowan’s hand and approached it hesitantly, as though somehow the creature that had posed as her aunt could re-emerge from the ashes.

Then again, she had been lying to everyone for centuries. Aelin wouldn’t put it past her to come back from the dead.

As she walked, step after halting step, each breath echoing in the sudden silence of the room, she allowed herself to think a desperate prayer that this all had worked. If this all turned out to be some foolish dream, she didn’t know what she’d do.

Carefully, she drew the toe of her boot through the ashes, effectively scattering them. A black stain remained on the stone underneath them. Finally, hardly daring to hope, she looked up at Rowan. She knew immediately that his expression of wary longing matched her own, but still they stood, simply staring at one another.

One of the wolves moved behind her, breaking the silence, and suddenly they were moving, walking briskly toward each other from across the room. She had just reached the midpoint when she was swept into the arms of a laughing male.

Aelin blinked, startled from the sudden spinning, only to find that it was the wrong male who had swept her away.

He was objectively beautiful, long golden curls offset by eyes of onyx and lips curled into an easy grin. “You did it,” he was saying through his laughter. “By all the gods, I never thought this day would come!”

A growl from behind her cut off any response she could have hoped to make, but the male only laughed harder. “Oh, come on, Rowan! You’ll have her for… gods, however long this one lives, I suppose. Assuming she doesn’t get another crazy idea and get you both killed tomorrow.”

The door burst open then, Aedion coming through at a sprint with another Fae male who looked stunningly like him. Aelin gave him a pointed look and then gestured between the two of them questioningly, but Aedion only shook his head. She’d have to pester him later for answers, then.

Another door opened, this one behind the dais where Maeve had sat, and a voice, rough and dark, shouted, “What have you done, you fire-breathing bitch?”

“The queen wasn’t Fae!” the male who was still holding her shouted, laughter turning desperate and almost hysterical. “She was one of the Valg, who disguised herself to stay behind. This one here figured it out and confronted her, and she freed us! She freed us, Lorcan, could you be less grumpy for one second of your miserable existence? Gods, I could kiss—”

A strong wind blasted around the room, knocking the golden male backwards, and when she turned she saw another male knocked to the floor as well. This one was almost impossibly tall, with dark hair and even darker eyes that were angrily fixed on Aelin herself.

The black wolf beside him shifted as well, revealing the mirror image of the golden male who had approached her. “It’s true,” he murmured. “I don’t know what to make of it. But everything Fen said is true.”

Aelin’s gaze stuttered from male to male. It was too much, it was all too much, she couldn’t—

Warm arms scented with pine and snow surrounded her, and she buried her face in Rowan’s shirt, eyes squeezed shut to block out as much sensation as possible. Her fingers clutched at the utilitarian fabric, and a small part of her mind wondered what it would take to get him to wear finer shirts.

A larger part recognized that voice for the hysterical distraction that it was, but it was better than facing… everything.

Finally, she realized Rowan was speaking to the others. “—sort this out later,” he was saying, the words rumbling in his chest so she felt as much as heard them. “We’ll have time, and Aelin came too close to a burnout. She needs rest.”

“She killed our queen!” the angry male shouted. “What has she done to you, that you would not have her answer for what she’s done?”

Another growl, this one from Aedion, but she couldn’t even look at him. Not now.

A calmer voice rang out from across the room, one that hadn’t spoken yet as far as Aelin could recall. “She’s overwhelmed,” the voice pointed out. “We’ll have no answers from her in this state, none that make any sense anyway. Let Rowan take care of her, and let us speak to her companion.”

“And if her companion doesn’t wish to speak without her consent?” Aedion replied testily.

“It’s all right, cousin,” she called, pulling away from Rowan to look at him. “You can tell them whatever they need to know.”

She took one step toward him, then another, but she could feel the weakness of her knees and the trembling in her limbs. She had overextended herself, gone too far, and the strain of unleashing all of those accusations had taken its toll as well.

Soon she was swept back into Rowan’s grasp, one arm holding her legs at the knee and the other supporting her back. “As much as I admire your determination to handle everything all at once,” he said with a shake of his head, “not even you can take on the entire world at the same time. It’s all right to need rest.”

“Go on,” said the male that was standing beside Aedion. “Take her out of here. We’ll speak with her when she’s ready.”

Rowan didn’t say anything else to any of the others, instead silently stepping out into the hall and beginning to walk. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“I did live here, you know,” he said dryly. “I have rooms.”

“Why, Rowan Whitethorn,” she grinned, pretending to be scandalized. “Are you taking me to bed?”

“After a stunt like you just put us through?” he asked.

Aelin felt her face fall. Of course he wouldn’t want her that way. Being mates was no guarantee of love, or even of happiness. There had been times where she thought perhaps he wanted her, but that didn’t mean that he would ever act on it.

Before she could say anything, could play off her remark as a simple jest, he had shifted his grip on her, using the wall to support her back so he could grip her chin. “Aelin, of all the countless mistakes I’ve made over the course of my life, making you doubt this is among the greatest,” he confessed. “There is much we need to discuss, you and I, but I don’t want to have that conversation when you’re already overwhelmed.”

Aelin could scarcely believe her ears. “So then you… are taking me to bed?”

“Aelin,” he purred next to her ear. “I am absolutely taking you to bed.”

She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck, only to fall asleep in his arms before they even reached their destination.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou

[yarrowleef]

Read Darkness Within all in one sitting last night and then passed out so here are my scattered thoughts i wrote down as i read, (afterthoughts in parenthesis)

Darkness Within Spoilers, obv

UGH GOD THE SECOND HAND EMBARRESMENT FROM SQUIRREL FAKE FLIRTING WITH ASHFUR IT HURTS

Just remembered Sandynose died and got a small boost of happiness (will Hawkwing and Plumwillow ever be allowed to talk again now? I mean probly not b/c they aren’t protags and non-protags don’t rly have friends but I can hope. Sorry, Hawkwhing and Plumwillow’s short-lived friendship in Hawkwings Journey was one of the last times I felt something)

Ghost fleas lol

Mothwing: i’m rude now. (but more importantly, Fuck Tigerheartstar for forcing his son to be around the cat that hurt him so badly, like he HAS to know how upset everyone is regarding Shadowsight and his accidentally helping the imposter, and he’s making him be the sole one to tend to him??? There is NO REASON Puddleshine couldn’t have done it. You think Puddleshine is going to try and murder someone?? )

Oh no don't make this a traveling book, and a ROOTBRISTLE traveling book this is going to be insufferable

BACON AND EGGS

Lightleap Is Good (Hey didn’t Shadowsight have another sister? lets be real we all knew Pouncekit was going to end up as the forgettable 3rd one)

Bristlefrost’s crush continues to feel unnatural to me. It’s like she’s grasping at straws romanticizing the most generic things.....wow....I love how ur just so...bare minimum competent....being polite to the loner we came all this way to ask for help like any somewhat reasonable person would....How admirable...I love the way you just *clenches fist* exhibit some basic traits of loyalty and skill that literally every warrior has (I s2g I’m this close to head canon-ing Bristle as a clueless aromantic who doesn't understand what romance is actually suppose to feel like so she just looks at feelings of low-bar admiration and assumes “oh I guess this is that “romantic attraction” everyone’s always talking about? guess I must be in love???” because both her crushes have felt out of nowhere and like. Idk fake/forced sounding like she’s just telling me that that she’s In Love Now while I continue to not actually feel it at all from her end. I know it’s just that I hate the way Erin’s write female characters in love but this head-canon makes me laugh)

Got scared because I thought they were going to villainize Spotfur for not wanting kits for a minute, but also excited at the concept of maybe exploring a female character that doesn’t want to be a mother, but it turns out she was just pulling a Sparkpelt and actually DID want the kits all along and was only hesitant because she’s sad. Shrug oh well.  (the only female character in warriors that was distinctly upset about pregnancy and motherhood was Lizardstripe and as we all know she was eeeeeevil and abusive and “overly ambitious” because why else would you not come around to being happy about motherhood?? YES I’M STILL SALTY ABOUT YELLOWFANG’S SECRET, BAD BOOK)  Whatever it’s fine so long as Spot doesn’t lose her rebel leader spirit forever and default to “soft mom” personality for the rest of her life, I gotta have hope because I actually like Bristle and Spot’s current relationship. Also I am actually very grateful they never made Bristle resentful at Spot for getting with her crush, as lots of middle grade/YA media has a very bad habit of demonizing female romantic “competition” and its super gross, so I rly do like that Bristlefrost is so protective and caring towards her instead. )

This series is trying to tell me that Rootspring is actually Big but I refuse to accept that. he has dumb scrawny bitch energy and we all know it

Sunrise: “Thunderclan may be better with a new leader” lol go off (i mean........they right tho...It’s unfortunate that the tension in this whole plot is a bit dampened by the fact that i DO in fact want bramble to die v badly. I don’t even have special hatred for him, I’m just bored of him.)

Yes Lionblaze beat the shit out of Ashfur

*HOLY SHIT THAT’S FUCKED!!!! (I wrote this in reference to the ghost summoning scene, this was all I could manage at the time, that scene was WILD and I am VIBING WITH THE HORROR OF IT ALL)

* Brashfur: Oh yeah? Could Ashfur fake THIS? *stands up with slightly better posture* Shadowsight: oh damn you got me there...... (asdfhhfhhgh im sorry that was really funny, how did that prove anything?? ONLY A ~REAL~ WARRIOR COULD STAND UP STRAIGHT WE ALL KNOW ASHFUR IS INCAPABLE OF GOOD POSTURE!)

End of the book: *LAUGHING NERVOUSLY* WHAT THE FUCK??? (I thought he was just gonna kill Squirrelflight right there holy shit can you imagine the RIOTS that would ensue in the wake of all this Squirrel/Bramble discourse I was so scared for a second.  

 But it’s fine, she just....went to super hell instead......Warriors has come so far lmao WHAT IS HAPPENING

Final Notes:

*On Mothwing, I don’t think her behavior struck me as “CHARACTER BUTCHERING” as much as it did for other people? I mean.....Warriors fans will say that literally any time a character does ANYTHING less then perfectly nice I think her actions just seemed that much harsher because we are reading from Shadowsight’s POV, and Shadowsight is taking everything 10x more personally right now (understandably so, but Mothwing isn’t inside his head) she wasn’t trying to hurt him. Also... like... Shadowsight DID get his name too early. It’s not Mothwing’s job to put his feelings above everything else, she’s not even his mentor, Puddleshine on the other hand, as his main mentor, I don’t understand what his deal is ignoring Shadowsight, that’s not how you help an apprentice but I suppose I chalk many of his mistakes up to also not being the most experienced medicine cat (he barely even had his own mentor.) Maybe he’s distant because he feels guilty and actually blames himself for not guiding Shadowsight better?? the two of them haven’t communicated about it yet so idk

 any way I give Mothwing a pass to be a little short tempered right now as a cat who has had her abilities periodically questioned all her life no matter how hard she works or how much experience she has, just because she doesn’t vibe with the spiritual cult side of the clans, I can understand why she’s a bit defensive of being questioned and frustrated watching so much hurt happen Yet Again due to reliance on StarClan visions over common sense, and I for one still stan her for slandering StarClan and refusing to accept Mistystar’s bullshit banishing like everyone else. Sometimes a character is at the end of their rope and can’t manage to be 100% nice 24/7 and that’s maybe not inherently bad writing? idk just my hot take. At a certain point we all gotta reckon with the fact that our perception of most popular supporting characters in heavily colored by fanon and we can’t always get mad at the authors for not adhering to it

*The sisters magic shit is my fav worldbuilding warriors has had in AGES, I love the way it’s described and it actually feels like it adds something to this world. I love this horror imagery with the ghosts, very excited for that. 

*still won’t be thrilled if Ashfur is working alone, because his motive doesn’t make sense right now. I mean the trying to get Squilf thing, sure, whatever, but the “I will make everyone pay for what they did to me”???? cause like?? Who??? they didn’t do anything to him?? Ashfur’s grievance was very specifically JUST Squilf. He has no other cause for revenge, he had no other beef or complaints about the clans to my knowledge? The cat that killed him is dead, and she’s like, the only other one that I could see as having “wronged” him?? I guess he also didn’t like Firestar much according to Graystripe’s Vow (and on account of how willing he was to kill him w/ Hawkfrost) but Firestar is ALSO dead. I don’t understand his angle. Will have to see last 2 books to judge i suppose.

*All in all I am interested to see where this is going!! but also the pacing as I feared is becoming a major issue. It’s better then ending the main conflict on book 3 like Vision of Shadows did, but omg. Hardly anything happened in all these pages. I realized I was over half way through and nothing about the situation had actually CHANGED or advanced at all in all that time. Similar to the past 2 books which I believe could have been combined, this plot felt like it should have been the first half of a book. Discussing whether or not to kill the imposter isn’t much of a standalone plot, it’s just the set up to a plot. Finding the sisters didn’t need to be a whole long thing, the debates about the Imposters fate didn’t need to be repeated 10 times, all those chapters illustrating that “Shadowsight is sad” were also drawn out, repetitive, and interchangeable, we probably only needed 2 or so chapters showing his struggles to get the necessary information across. It felt like a lot of padding, it was really slow and I did a lot of skimming. I am still very interested in the overarching plot and mystery behind the ghosts so that kept me reading but man this “will they won’t they kill him” plot did not justify it’s own whole book. Alas this is a persisting issue that will never be resolved while they continue to force 6 books into 1 series that doesn’t need 6 books. I’m sure the writers are doing the best they can with these unfortunate constraints but still, it’s a wonder this slow padding isn’t more of a detriment to their younger readers that the books are supposed to be marketed to.

[deardragonbook]

It’s nearly November

You know what that menas? 

NaNoWriMo! 

And I’ve never partaken. I know, I know. But November is a busy month for me, usually full of projects and exams. I want to, I really do. 

This year I want to more than ever. I have a book published, I’m technically an author now. I write about writing and post videos about my experience being an author. It would only make sense. 

I don’t know if I will. This isn’t me announcing I’ll be taking part. It depends on a lot of things, I’ve already got some exams scheduled and for as much as so many authors say “if you love writing you’ll find time for it”, I barely have time to eat far less leisure activities. 

But I’d love to try, even if it’s just give minutes between classes where I can. 

But if I do, what book should I write? 

I have a couple of ideas on my list. Here are some synopsis (all titles are terrible and pending change, I am terrible at titles): 

1.- The King, the mage and the knight. 

Every morning the prophets spoke of fate and destiny and the future. Every king the king’s most trusted knight would collect their mystical words. One day those words speak of immense pain caused by no other but a mage. The king orders all mages be banished from the kingdom, those who fail to leave shall be dealt with appropriately. But his most trusted knight does not come back empty handed. A young mage, a child, no parents or family left. 

The knights begs to keep her. For some reason the king complies. 

2.- We all end up in the same place. 

Usually this expression means buried in the ground. But how about we go further than that? Heaven and hell are not separate, rather a single place. Heaven and hell are merely classes. And unfortunately heaven is the minority, the lower class. 

Basically this story follows an afterlife where those who were “good” during their life become and angel, with wings and a halo. While those who were “bad” become demons, often with animalistic features. However, angels are the minority and where ever humans are there is not peace. Demons become the higher class forcing angels into dying cities invaded by dragons and other dangerous mythical creatures. 

Angels fights every day for there lives, for despite being unable to die, they can become severely wounded and entree a hibernation of sorts. 

After a particularly hard fight one particularly angel is rescues from this hibernation by a small group of demons. They claim they are trying to help. She is wary. But soon she realizes the injustice she faces is not the only one. 

The demon who saved her explains how he has been dead for thousands of years, yet he can never change his form, forever stuck with the weight of actions during a short twenty years on earth. 

Together they decide to seek out a bigger entity, to confront them about the system, hopefully to improve it. 

3.- Wayward Dream 

I have no idea how to do a synopsis for this. So, kind of spoilers warning but at the same time any of this could change: It’s written in first person, follows a kind of unusual young woman who only wants peace, but one night at the bar she meets a guy. Then there is an accident, she loses something close to her. She blames the king and seeks vengeance. Then she discovered the guy who’s as flirting with her? The king. And now, she’s interested. 

4.- The clone generation 

The first time it was a bit weird: holding my mother in my arms. A baby. No more then a fragile infant. An infant I never wanted, mind you, I never wanted children. 

Or so I say. It’s not like I can remember such things. 

I know I raised my mother, then my grandmother. I died. They raised me. 

I know all of this from my numerous journals. The oldest ones are boring and hard to read. But I’ve clearly become better at entertaining recaps over the years. 

It’s a weird world we live in. One where you never die, yet die continuously. Replaced by an exact copy of yourself. 

I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. 

All I know is there is a baby crying in the other room. Mother needs feeding again. 

5.- Chaos time magic. 

If you read all my posts you might remember this. So I won’t bother explaining it. 

And that’s all, if I find the time, which do you think I should do? 

These stories aren’t written yet, but if you’d like to read some other stories from me you can check out my book or my Wattpad  here.

Also, a quick apology if there are any typos or grammar mistakes, usually I write then edit but I should have been sleeping an hour and a half ago and will be traveling all day tomorrow. So here you have a more pure version of my writing. Remember first drafts are an important part of the process and there is not shame in making mistakes. Have fun writing! 

[akatsuki-shin]

Review: 天官赐福 Tiān Guān Cì Fú (Heaven Official's Blessing)

Notes:

(Very) long post ahead

Contains spoiler

This is my personal review and does not represent the entire audience, you are free to agree or not agree with what I’ve written here

Feel free to reply/send me a message if there are things you want to discuss

Summary:

The most beloved Crown Prince, pride of the Kingdom of Xianle with abundance of talents and achievements, Xie Lian, ascended to Heaven and became a martial god at the young age of 17 on the path to fulfill his dream "to save the common people".

Three years after his ascension, he saw his kingdom beginning to decline and in order to save his beloved country, Xie Lian defied the rules of Heaven and descended back to the mortal realm. Nevertheless, instead of saving them, his interference ended up accelerating the fall of Xianle, annihilating the once prosperous nation under the war of rebellion and a mysterious, horrifying plague.

The people who once praised and worshipped him day and night now condemned him, his devotees left him, they burnt his temples and divine statues, and Xie Lian himself was ultimately banished from the Heaven.

He ascended for the second time a short while later, but was banished once more very soon after. Since then, he lived among the mortals - surviving by collecting junks as he was now branded as the "God of Misfortune", the "Scrap Collecting Immortal".

800 years later, Xie Lian ascended again for the third time. Though having neither temples nor devotees, he accepted his responsibility as a martial god and carried on with his duties until one day, there came a certain, incidental encounter with a mysterious youth clad in red.

STORY: 7/10

TGCF overall is an (almost) complete, satisfying read with well-written twists and development.

Unlike the two previous MXTX's novels, the main pairing here (HuaLian) did not have to go through complicated misunderstandings and is a beautiful representation of love and devotion. Of course, this means there is a lack of conflict between them, but considering all the trials and tribulations the characters have gone through, this lack of conflict feels like a relieving fresh spring amidst the painful and exhausting journey throughout the entire five books.

The best and my most favorite plot twist is the Earth Master Ming Yi having been dead for a while, and the "Ming Yi" we know turns out to be the Black Water Submerging Boats, He Xuan. I'm the kind of person who always suspects characters, but even my furthest suspicion was "only" him being the Reverend of Empty Words, not He Xuan.

Truthfully, prior to reading this novel, I've seen Shi Qingxuan's "MING-XIONG, I'M SORRY x9999" post before without context, and I thought Ming Yi was going to die a tragic death because of Shi Qingxuan. Turns out it's kind of the opposite, huh? Nice one, really.

I also like how each character's "end" feels satisfying. Especially for the villains, they didn't necessarily have to die some tragic, vengeful death, but was provided with an ending that perfectly fits their background story and deeds. For example, in most stories, a character like Xuan Ji would be most likely be given some well-deserved punishment as her death, given everything she's done. But no, in the end she was given a reality check and was finally able to let go of her hundreds of years grudge. And then Qi Rong - I will talk more about him later on in the "Character" section.

One part I really love is the Extra Chapter about the Cave of Ten Thousand Gods. The chapter itself overall is mostly nonsensical and chaotic, but it was just so touching when HuaLian created a "Little Hua Cheng" statue to accompany Xie Lian's "Crown Prince who Pleased the Gods" statue, especially when this Little Hua Cheng statue gave Crown Prince Xie Lian statue a flower, and then Crown Prince Xie Lian received it, lifted him up and carried him in his arms. This one was maybe a bit biased because as much as I love the current HuaLian, I have a special soft spot for the young Xie Lian carrying, cradling the little Hua Cheng back then in the past. ;v;

Though, with all due respect, I must say that TGCF is actually below my expectation.

The biggest issue I have with TGCF is... What is Xie Lian's motivation? What drives him to move forward in the story? What is even the whole story's purpose?

I'm not quite sure how to word this properly, but let me give some examples.

When you read Harry Potter, you know immediately that Voldemort is the bad guy and he must be defeated.

When you read the Lord of the Rings, you know immediately that the One Ring must be destroyed to prevent Sauron from regaining his power.

Or, in MXTX previous works...

In SVSSS, it was clear since the beginning that Shen Yuan's mission is to fix the "Proud Immortal Demon Way" if he wants to survive.

In MDZS, it was clear that Wei Wuxian, together with Lan Wangji's, needs to unravel the mystery behind that fierce left arm. All of their past stories and WangXian getting together in the end are just something they discovered along the way, not the initial "motivation" that drives the character to move forward.

What about TGCF? The Xie Lian who ascended for the third time actually looks like he just wants to go along with the flow, carrying out his duties day by day with responsibility. When Bai Wuxiang later, later, later on appeared to haunt him again, it didn't seem like Xie Lian has any ambition to hunt him down or exact a revenge, just that he wanted to forget about Bai Wuxiang and never recall anything about him ever again. The main character looks like he's not being driven by anything, just...carrying on where the plot takes him? It's just missions after missions and whatever huge things happening in between is just something they accidentally passed by along the way.

At this point, the only purpose of the story I can think of is bringing Hua Cheng and Xie Lian together. The romance is great, I have no complain. But if it's just that, no need to jammed-pack 250+ chapters just to make two people getting together?

Speaking of which, I also think that the way new characters keep being introduced all the way to almost the final showdown of the story feels info dump-ish, because the background story needs to be dropped there along with the characters, but then most of these characters fade away immediately after.

For example, the previous Civil God before Ling Wen, who looks like he’s going to pose some real trouble, but then was easily defeated and was never mentioned again afterwards. And this is especially true for He Xuan; after such a huge arc where he committed such extreme things, after that he was barely mentioned again, even having his “strong impression” leveled down by the joke about him being the poorest Calamity and owing lots of debts to Hua Cheng.

Basically what makes TGCF a long story is because there are too many stories about the side characters in addition to the main characters that are dumped out of the blue instead of slowly being revealed along the way.

Though, I love how the story gradually unravels the "Four Famous Tales" because initially, I thought it wasn't something crucial, and I wished they could've done this for other characters, too.

There is a little bit of plot holes here and there, as in who actually cut open Jian Lan/Lan Chang's baby and made it a ghost, and for what? Even if it turned out that she just met a bad guy or nobody important, at least provide an explanation in one paragraph? Especially because important side characters like Feng Xin and Mu Qing are involved here, so I'm pretty sure us readers need some explanation.

And more importantly, how can Jun Wu become the Emperor martial god? There's no mention about him ascending, only that he annihilated a dynasty of gods before sitting on the throne of the Great Martial Hall. But how can he, like, emitted god-like aura and not some evil aura? Is it because he used to be a god? But he's a ghost? Explanation where???

The gags and comedies are pretty fun, but honestly, the more I read, the more they ruin the atmosphere and suspense, added with the uncalled PDA between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian even during the most important moments. Honestly, I was bored the fuck out of my life from the moment they start fighting Jun Wu with those divine gundams, and only start gaining interest again much later on when Hua Cheng dissipated into butterflies.

Not saying the story's bad. Just... It's not up to my expectation... Characters being inserted here and there with a bunch of background story, gags and a show of PDA being flaunted during crucial moments. And when Mei Nianqing started telling the truth about the Kingdom of Wuyong, that's just plain info dump right there, seriously...

CHARACTERS: 7/10

Interesting characters, but only a few bore a lasting impression on me. Other than the main characters, which are Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, the only side characters (minus Bai Wuxiang as the main villain) who left quite some impression on me were probably just Feng Xin and Mu Qing.

Pei Ming is okay, at least he is still memorable until the end, and his character improved, too.

He Xuan, after having been introduced with such extreme, after his arc is over, was easily forgotten just like that.

Mei Nianqing, is borderline Deus Ex-Machina with a huge chunk of info dump that could solve everything, then he stopped being useful for the rest of the story.

Shi Qingxuan... Honestly, he's almost annoying, too noisy. I don’t hate him (and I kind of like him initially), but the way his character was being handled and presented post-Black Water arc feels disappointingly lazy and he was just there to make the party more merry.

Xie Lian himself, as the protagonist, how do I say this... This is maybe due to the translator's writing style (not MXTX’s fault), but whenever he screams in all capslock, it feels too extreme and borderline OOC? Of course, the original novel written in hanzi couldn't have included capslock.

What's great about him, though, is that despite all he'd gone through, he can still retain a pure heart and could not be swayed to be evil, just as he himself said "Body in the abyss, heart in paradise".

Now Hua Cheng, he is overall a super interesting character and I personally love this type of male characters. But he seriously is way too OP, almost like the original Luo Binghe (Bing-ge) a.k.a. too ideal, too perfect, no flaws, always capable of easily finding a way out in every single peril. I only forgive him for being like this because he dissipated into butterflies at the end of the battle with Jun Wu, making me think "oh, finally he's actually not invincible".

Still, his devotion to Xie Lian is very well written, very well presented, and his "I am forever your most devoted believer" is just downright the most powerful line in the whole story.

Now I promised to talk about Qi Rong, yeah? I haven't the slightest idea why it is even necessary to have Qi Rong as the Night-touring Green Lantern. I mean, yes he is there to make up the number of the Four Great Calamities, but that was for the characters who live in that world. As the novel's reader, I don't see any particularly important roles there for Qi Rong other than being an annoying meme fodder despite his actually pretty-cool first foreshadowing and appearance? Even his issue with Lang Qianqiu does not seem to give that much impact on the overall story, it could've just passed simply being explained in several pages.

Though I'd say he's got the best character development compared to others. Instead of dying as some hateful villain, the way he ended up deciding to protect Guzi at the cost of his own life can already be expected from miles away, but still bittersweet and touching nonetheless - how this crazed, mental person could still love when being presented with such pure, innocent feelings to the point that he acknowledged Guzi as a his own son.

By the way, E Ming and Ruoye are cute, I take no criticism.

TECHNICAL ASPECTS: 8/10

I can't really describe this with words, but MXTX's overall writing technique has greatly improved since MDZS.

It feels more "solid" to read instead of scattered here and there.

The info distribution has improved (fewer info dump compared to before), the story's no longer switching between past and present all of a sudden.

Description of characters and environment are sufficient, the plot is progressing steadily.

Several issues I have with this aspect though, the Prologue being ten pages is just way too long, I don't think I need that much information being stuffed right to my face right from the beginning.

There are excessive use of "Turns out..." every single time an explanation is going to come.

"Xie Lian didn't know whether he should cry or laugh" is honestly has been used probably more than 50 times just in the last two books. Although I'm reading a translation, I'm pretty sure the original Chinese version is being repetitive with this phrase, as well, because the translators couldn't just whip up any other phrase from thin air and put it in someone else's novel.

Almost half of scene transition is always caused by some sudden, external disturbance like "All of a sudden they heard someone's coming", "All of a sudden X visits their room", etc.

OVERALL SCORE: 7.3/10

Worth to read, satisfying overall. The main pairing's love story is just so well written and sweet. As long as you can withstand the violence and gore, though. 😂

TGCF highlights perhaps one of the ugliest natures of mankind: Being nice to someone as long as they're beneficial, and immediately throwing them away once the benefit was no more.

Once that person does not seem to be beneficial anymore, everyone would leave them instantly, even turning on them and start spitting on them without even trying to understand the reason why said person "stopped being beneficial".

Both as a Crown Prince and a martial god, Xie Lian and the Crown Prince of Wuyong were praised, revered, worshipped by the citizens of Xianle and Wuyong respectively. Because they were always helping, always fulfilling the people's wishes. But how easily it was for those very same people to turn on Xie Lian and the Crown Prince of Wuyong when they encountered misfortunes, completely turning a blind eye to the laborious effort both characters have been putting to save them from annihilation, even if it was visible in broad daylight.

It is also worth to note another trait of mankind that this story underlines: To always find a scapegoat or blame others for one's own misfortune and failure - be it another human being, another group of people, the government, even the gods - after having taking their generosity for granted.

Which is why I think the true villain of the story is not Bai Wuxiang, but those citizens of the ancient Wuyong who were now nothing more than resentful spirits eternally burning within the lava of Tonglu Mountain - a well deserved punishment after what they did to their Crown Prince.

[cuubism]

Honestly if you’re in a fluffy mood you can do 5 but if you still want some angst involved 6 is awesome too. (Malec...duh) I could send you prompts all day you’re incredibly talented and I hope you never stop writing Shadowhunters!

ah you’re so sweet, thank you!! ❤ I have way too many half-written fics to stop writing Shadowhunters any time soon. feel free to send prompts though, I have a lot of fun writing them!

of course I had to do both these prompts in one. I hope you enjoy! 

(#5 - playing with their hair while their head’s in your lap, #6 - jolting awake after a nightmare and being comforted, from this list)

cw: graphic violence, character almost-death, mild sexual content

* 

“Careful,” Magnus murmurs, “spoil me too much and I might never leave.”

Alec looks down at him, his hands stilling where they’ve been running mindlessly through Magnus’s hair. Magnus is boneless in his lap—he’s given up on the book he was reading and seems to be hovering on the edge of a nap. The sight makes something clench tight and warm in Alec’s chest.

“We’re in your apartment,” Alec points out.

“I meant your lap.” Magnus’s eyes open lazily and he looks up at him. He’s started leaving them unglamoured in the loft, and now is no exception. Alec can’t help but reach down to run a thumb across his cheek.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

He really doesn’t. This quiet moment at home, with Magnus sprawled loose and warm beside him—it’s not something Alec ever thought he’d get to have. He doesn’t want it to end.

Magnus just blinks slowly at him, smiling fondly. “Having another person attached to you will make shadowhunting difficult.”

“Eh, screw shadowhunting.”

Magnus mock-gasps. “How quickly the devoted shadowhunter forsakes his duty! I can’t believe I’ve tempted you into this life of sloth.”

Tempted is right. Even just lounging around the house, Magnus is a vision. Alec still isn’t sure if he wears those open silk robes just because he likes them or specifically to drive Alec insane, but either way it’s working.

“Don’t play, you know exactly what you’re doing,” Alec tells him, and Magnus grins. Alec drags a fingertip down his forehead and over his nose until it lands on his lips. “My boyfriend’s a genius, after all.”

Magnus takes Alec’s hand within his own and starts playing with it. “The real genius is these fingers.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, as if Alec needs that clue to know what he’s talking about.

Alec frowns down at him in mock disapproval. “God, the mouth on you.”

Magnus brings one of Alec’s fingers to his mouth to suck on it, stopping only briefly to say, “Whatcha gonna do about it?”

Plenty, Alec thinks. He drags Magnus upright and into his lap properly. Magnus goes happily, his arms draping around Alec’s neck, his body heavy and warm on Alec’s thighs as he leans in to kiss him.

Careful, Alec thinks, spoil me too much and I’ll never let you go.

*

Alec hates having Magnus on patrol with him.

Not because they don’t fight well together—in fact, it’s almost frightening, the ease with which he and Magnus gel on the battlefield. Sometimes Alec thinks he was born to have Magnus’s back.

But it’s terrifying having him on patrol, having him in danger. Normally, Alec’s pretty good at compartmentalizing, reminding himself that Magnus is a strong fighter so he doesn’t use all his mental capacity worrying about him when he’s supposed to be banishing demons.

But he’s struggling with it today.

It’s because they’ve been getting closer, he’s pretty sure. They’ve been spending more time together, Alec staying the night at the loft more often than not. He’s starting to feel like Magnus is someone he knows, rather than someone he’s figuring out.

And with that comes an almost desperate fondness that burns in his lungs. Alec’s not sure if he’s supposed to say ‘love’ out loud yet, but he knows that’s what it is. He wants to hide Magnus in his chest. He can’t.

God, he’s so distracted. He’s thinking about Magnus’s mouth. He’s thinking about Magnus teasing him. He’s thinking about Magnus laying his head in his lap, all soft and warm and beautiful. He’s thinking about a demon tearing all that away.

He’s not thinking about the demon flying at his face.

“Alec!” someone yells. Maybe Izzy. Alec manages to get his blade up in time to slice the demon in two right before it claws his eyes out, but he can feel the fight devolving around him.

It’s his fault. He’s distracted. He’s distracted by Magnus who’s fighting a few yards away from him, savagely dismembering demons with his magic. Alec’s been steadily edging his way closer to him even though he’s supposed be covering the other end of the street, and now they’re nearly close enough to fight back to back.

Which is why he’s close enough to see the demon hurtling into Magnus’s blind spot, claws extended.

Alec doesn’t think. He doesn’t even yell for him, which would have been the smart move. He just runs.

But he’s not fast enough.

The demon slams into Magnus, knocking him to the ground. Magnus cries out, and then Alec reaches him, banishing the demon with a downward swing of his blade that’s so forceful it almost sends him to the pavement.

He falls to his knees by Magnus’s side, hands hovering over the gaping hole in his chest. “Magnus, Magnus—”

Magnus’s breath rattles in his chest. He takes Alec’s shaking hands in his own. He doesn’t look frightened, he looks resigned, and that’s the most frightening thing of all. “Alexander, I—”

Don’t say it, Alec begs. Don’t say it like this.

*

“Magnus!” Alec jerks upright in the dark. He can’t breathe. His chest is on fire. “Magnus!”

Footsteps, then Magnus skids to his knees beside the bed. “Shh, darling, it’s alright. I’m here.” His hands rove over Alec’s face, tugging at his hair.

“You’re—” Alec pants. His chest is still killing him, but he leans over to see Magnus better, running desperate hands over his skin. “I thought—”

“Shh, don’t— don’t move—” Magnus tries to push him back down, but Alec won’t go.

“You— you were—” Tears are running down his cheeks, he doesn’t know what’s happening. “You were— dying—”

Magnus’s fingers come to rest lightly over his lips. “No, darling, you were having a nightmare.” His other hand brushes Alec’s chest with the lightest touch. “You’re the one who nearly died.”

Alec brings a hand up to his chest, where he can now feel layers of bandages, and that relentless pain. “What? But the demon—”

“You pushed me out of the way,” Magnus says. His eyes are glamoured again, a sure sign that he’s feeling unstable. “And gave me the great scare of my long life, I might add.”

The nightmare’s starting to fade, and Alec thinks he can remember it now. Shoving Magnus with all of his strength. Watching him fall to the ground. Feeling a pang of regret that the fall would scrape up Magnus’s palms, even as the demon collided with him.

“I’m sorry,” Alec says quietly.

“No, no, it’s alright.” Magnus pulls Alec’s head to his shoulder and holds him gently. Alec sighs into his shirt. “Just please don’t do that to me again.”

“No promises,” Alec says weakly.

No, he thinks as Magnus’s hands go to his hair and start running through it—a motion seemingly meant to sooth Magnus at least as much, if not more than it’s meant to soothe him.  

No matter what it takes, I’m not letting you go.  

[curioussubjects]

So I did a season 15 rewatch and wanted to do a thought experiment

I know I often mention that the meta the corner of fandom I’m in has multiple points of entry, but I don’t think I ever just dumped plain text as a thought experiment before. Obviously, the parts of the text I decided to dump here are picked through a specific meta lens as well as being only a facet of the SPN text itself, since I only have the words and none of the complex visual language the show employs from set dressing to editing to acting -- and that’s a ton of info I’m omitting, I know, but generally speaking all text gets reduced to the writing even in the mytharc of the show itself, so it feels appropriate to use words on a page to do this. That said, this is just a start, and any analysis of SPN needs to take into account the full scope of the text beyond the words (with the one exception of a soundtrack pick in 15.10 because it’s too good to pass up).

Anyway, I started writing this as a simple “here look at this selection of very cursed quotations let’s cry” sort of self-indulgent thing, but then I thought, well, what if we could all take a pause from fandom stuff and finale anxiety in order to sit a little with one of the textual building block? What if we could even put a pin, for just a second, to the greater nuances and more involved abstraction about the text and think in bare bone terms? 

Of course, I have a reading here, but through the quotations I picked notice the repetition of themes, of words themselves. What is there? What is it telling us? Regardless of our personal wants and wishlists, whatever our feelings about what is and what should or shouldn’t be. And if we pluck these words and put them back in their context, what is the story trying to tell us? On its face, without any editorializing about what we think could happen maybe because we’ve all been burned by tv shows before. Or even do we really think the text seems so clumsy and lost and incompetent as some seem to think it is? 

Again, this collection is just on facet of the text. Think of it as a spring board, rock number 1. 

15.01

We were just rats in a maze. Sure, we could go left. Sure, we could go right. But we were still in the damn maze. Just makes you think, if all of it... you know, everything that we've done... What did it even mean?

It meant a lot. We still saved people.

When we win this, God's gone. Hm. There's no one to screw with us. There's no more maze. It's just us. And we're free.

We got work to do.

15.02

Chuck is all-knowing. He knew the truth, he... he just kept it to himself.

Even if we didn't know that all of the challenges that we face were born of Chuck's machinations, how would we describe it all? We'd call it "life". Because that's precisely what life is. It's an obstacle course, and maybe Chuck designed the obstacles, but we ran our own race. We made our own moves.

I'll tell you what we do know. Nothing about our lives is real. Everything that we've lost, everything that we are is because of Chuck.

You asked, "What about all of this is real?" We are.

I'm done, Chuck. I've changed. I've adapted. I've... I've become the better me. And you? You are still the same... petulant, narcissistic. So... I'm leaving you here.

15.03

No, we’re gonna end this, Sam. Like you said. We’re gonna be free.

And I'm here, and you're here, and everything we need to end this right is in our hands.

But will you let the world die, let your brother die, just so I can live?

I've tried to talk to you, over and over, and you just don't want to hear it.  

Jack's dead. Chuck's gone. You and Sam have each other. I think it's time for me to move on.

15.04

Wow. So you’re still, um… [...]  Uh, obsessed with my work.

You mean my work.

So instead of reading your stories, I kept writing my own. [...]  Where the guys didn’t have to hunt monsters all the time. They just sit around and do laundry and talk, you know? I mean, that’s what people like the most, anyway.

… this is just an ending.

I can do anything. I’m a writer.

We are finally free to… move on, you know?

I don’t know. Uh… I-I don’t know if I can move on. You know, I-I-I… I can’t forget about any of them. Dean, I still think about Jessica. I… I can’t just let that go.

15.06

Yeah. If I stay, nothing changes. It's time for me to get back in the game.

15.07

What would I do without you? Hmm? What would I do without my best friend?!

Angela was raptured, and I was left behind.

but... but best friends don't just up and leave without saying goodbye.

Listen to yourself. "We're owed." "We deserve." Come on, man. You're not God. Hell, God's not even God.

Then you fix it. You don't walk away. You fight for it.

15.08

No one hands you anything, darlin'. I took it.

Then one day, you die, you go to hell, they make you queen, and you can't make it right. So fix it!

Doing what we do, we've had to get used to losing people. Probably too used to it. With Adam, we said goodbye because we thought we had to. We were wrong.

Since when do we get what we deserve?

15.09

You just refused to hear it.

Maybe if you didn't just up and leave us.

I left, but you didn't stop me.

No, the Dean I know... the Dean who raised me -- he'd never give up, no matter how bad things got.

Well, he does. He will. This is the truth, Sam. This is what comes next. 

I hope you can hear me... that wherever you are, it's not too late. I should've stopped you. You're my best friend, but I just let you go.

Okay, Cas, I need to say something.

You don't have to say it. I heard your prayer.

When we beat you, I will make it better!

But there's still so much about the fabric of the universe that you don't know... that you can't know. 'Cause you're only humans. But I'm God.

I wish you'd stay.

I wish I could. After what happened, I don't know what's real anymore.

I know that was real.

If we can't kill him or trap him...

... Well, then we find another way.

15.10

You know, go out young and pretty. But now I've got a great wife, great kids. I guess...sometimes things work out.

Yeah, sometimes. Good, man. You deserve it.

~Let's be outrageous  /  Let's misbehave~  

You know, I always thought I could be a good dancer if I wanted to be.

15.11

Beach read? Lady, I’m Tolstoy.

God created the world, but you know who created us gods? You did. You humans. Sort of.

How dare you not recognize his beneficence?

Our bad. Not his

I learned from my brother.

What is with you and these losers? They’re nothing! They don’t matter.

They matter to us.

Heroes. Like the old days. And, uh, she gave me a message. She said, “Don’t play his game. Make him play yours.”

Every day I wanted to come home, but… I couldn’t.

Billie kept him hidden in the Empty until Chuck went off world.

15.12

In the beginning, it was just me and sis. And it was fine. But I wasn’t satisfied. So I made more. I created the world.

So, I… I kept creating. I made… other worlds.

Those other toys, they don’t… they don’t… spark joy. But Sam and Dean… the real Sam and Dean… they do. They challenge me… they disappoint me… they surprise me. 

They’re… the ones.

You know, Kelly just had faith that Jack would be good for the world, and I felt it, too. I knew it. And then, when everything went wrong, and God took him from us… I was lost in a way I’ve never been before. Because I knew the story wasn’t over. I knew Jack wasn’t done. And I was right.

What sounds good to me is Jack fulfilling his destiny.

I thought I could leave her behind, but… she haunts me.

Her world looked peaceful. This place is… cold. I don’t understand it. I don’t know how to move through it. So, I just find empty spaces, and I hide. This world doesn’t want me. And I’m done with it.

We can fix this. You can help us. Please? Please.

Feels good. Disobeying cosmic entities, doing the, uh… dumb, right thing? Feels like we’re back.

I don’t belong in your world. You do. Go.

When I was a reaper, I believed in the rules. But then you killed me. And when I became Death, I inherited Death’s knowledge… and Death’s library. And in Death’s library, everyone has a book. Even God.

After God made the world, he couldn’t stop. He wanted more. But he needed to create a perfect harmony… a Swiss watch, so this world could keep tick, tick, ticking in his absence. He had no choice but to build himself into the framework. It’s his only weakness.

You and your brother have work to do. This is your destiny. You are the messengers of God’s destruction. 

15.13

Then there's no God, there's no Darkness. Nothing out of balance. World saved.

Okay, yeah, but then who takes over? Uh, Jack?

Probably not.

I used to feel things. In my bones. It was glorious, and sometimes unbearable. But I felt them. Now, I understand joy or sadness, but... I know those things aren't in me.

So it's possible he could work through this. One day, he may explode and let it all out and breathe deeply and move on.

A place... a thing... Whatever you want to call it, it's powerful.

Why do they call this place the Empty? This place is full. It's full of sorrow and despair playing over and over again, of angels and demons dreaming about their regrets. Forever.

Funny thing about her plan, though... she didn't say anything about needing you.

Maybe it's a key. It's a passage in Enochian. It says, um, loosely translated, "In order to be in the Occultum, the Occultum must be in you."

This is the Garden. Man's beginning.

His prize creations, until he banished them and all of mankind from the perfection of the Garden. And he hid it away.

Who are you, really? Who are you meant to be?

That's the crossroads of divinity and humanity.

Please. Just please forgive me.

[octoberobserver]

Hello, Cas - Destiel Fix-It Fanfic

READ ON AO3

“Hello, Cas.”

Dean Winchester has to admit this new Heaven is great and all, but nothing compares to the deep-seated satisfaction of watching his best friend startle at his voice, turning on the spot, their eyes locking. 

Now you know how it feels, dumbass. 

“Hello, Dean.” 

Something settles in Dean’s chest at that.

Cas looks different. Younger, maybe. Less tortured, definitely.

The trench coat isn’t quite right, though.

The sun is still shining, where they stand on the edge of the lake. 

Dean has no idea how much time has passed since he left Sam with their mom and dad and hit the road again, one destination in mind, Bobby’s “Cas helped” ringing in his ears. He doesn’t know how he knew where to go, it more of a feeling, than anything else. Like a beacon calling out to somewhere deep inside him. 

So he drives. 

And finds him at the edge of a familiar-looking pier, gazing out at the water, deep in thought. 

So deep in fact, that Dean manages to somehow sneak up on him. He wonders if it’s a particular perk that Jack wrote into the fabric of this place.

Dean Winchester must finally be allowed to get the drop on the angel, Castiel. It’s an intrinsic part of his eternal paradise.

For what must be one of the only times in their many years of friendship, Cas breaks eye contact after a fleeting but heavy glance, looking over Dean’s shoulder to where Baby is glinting in the late-afternoon sun. 

“Did you have a nice drive?” 

He did.

He hadn’t meant for it to last quite as long as it did, but got lost in the journey, time slipping by like nothing at all as Kansas and later, Led Zeppelin, crooned on the radio.

“I did,” he replies, coming to stand right next to the angel, “thanks for bringing Baby up here.” 

He knows it was Cas’ doing. Ensuring his Impala was waiting for him. Not that Jack needed reminding. He smiles as he thinks of their driving lessons. 

“Your version of Heaven wouldn’t be complete without your beloved vehicle,” Cas attempts a smile while still not looking directly at him. 

Something lurches in Dean’s stomach. The same something that once had him reaching for the bottle and drinking himself into a blackout, numbing stupor. 

“Cas…” he tries to speak over the lump in his throat, “back in the bunker, man, I—”

“Sam arrived okay?” Cas cuts across lightly, moving away from him, shuffling along the edge of the lake, eyes downcast.

Dean blinks before stumbling after him, confused.

“Uh, yeah. He did. Lived a long, happy life with Eileen. Just like he deserved.” 

Cas says nothing at that, but the tension that mars his shoulders eases a little. 

“Eileen arrived some time ago. I got to introduce her to your mom.”

Dean didn’t know that. Hadn’t thought to ask that. Hadn’t thought to ask a lot of things, really.

Guilt rises from the pit of his gut. 

“Sammy’s with them all now,” he speaks in an effort to drown it out, “pretty sure Mom is showing her our baby pictures as we speak.” 

He chuckles.

“Jack really did think of every little detail, huh?” 

Cas gives a nod, short and curt, eyes still downcast and suddenly, Dean can’t take it anymore. 

“I thought about it, every day. Saving you.”

The words expel from him, banished from his body before he can stop them. 

His legs move on their own volition until he is barely a foot from him, speaking directly to the back of his head. 

“‘Gripping you tight and raising you from perdition,’” he quotes in his best Cas-gruff, “repaying the favor from all those years ago.”

He heaves a sigh as Cas abruptly comes to a halt.

“Killing myself somehow to plunge into the Empty on a wing and a prayer, maybe. One last deal to end all deals. But then I...I thought about your sacrifice. You died for me, Cas. So that I could live. So that I could be more than daddy’s blunt instrument. More than the destructive son of a bitch I’ve been since that night in ‘83.”

He pauses, watching the water ripple along the bank. 

“I had no way of knowing that some wayward rebar would put a stop to that so soon,” he laughs dryly, holding his arms out, sarcasm seeping into his tone, “‘the great Dean Winchester’ cut down in his prime by some shoddy—”

“I almost asked Jack to bring you back,” Cas interjects, eyes now cast out to the skyline as he wrings his hands, “I was...concerned about Sam. And—the unfairness of it all. I...I didn’t want your story to end like that, Dean. You deserve happiness too.”

His heart gives another lurch in his chest.

So much for being dead. Don’t think the ol’ ticker got the memo. 

“I was, Cas,” he half whispers to the water, “I was happy. If even just for a little bit. Because, we, me and Sam, we were finally writing our own story. Not Chuck.” 

He tilts his head as Cas slowly begins to turn. 

“I just didn’t count on that kinda plot twist,” he speaks around a half-smirk, half-grimace, “always thought I’d go down in a blaze of glory. Not offed by some opportunistic, no-name vamp and crappy reinforced steel.” 

He finally lets himself laugh at that. Loud and abrupt and more than a little pained. The sheer absurdity of it. Him, having survived Hell and possessions and God himself. 

Cas doesn’t laugh.

But he does step slightly closer. 

“He called his kid Dean,” Dean continues, apropos of nothing. “Sammy.”

“I heard.”

“Dean Castiel Winchester.” 

Cas blinks, apparently not privy to that information.

“That’s...touching.” 

“Yeah,” Dean grins, “really rolls off the tongue, huh? Castiel Winchester?” 

Cas shifts his weight from foot to foot, his brow furrowed.

Guilt creeps into Dean’s veins. 

“Cas...will you look at me, man?” 

A beat passes. 

“Please?” 

Finally, those bright blue eyes meet his, holding his gaze this time. 

“Hi.” 

It’s not what he intended to say. Not even close. But it’s a start.

Cas throws him a puzzled look.

“Hello, Dean.” 

A shiver, one he hasn’t felt in what feels like a lifetime ago and also like it was yesterday, flows up his spine at Cas’ voice. 

“God, I missed you.” 

Something unreadable passes over Cas’ face before a smile, small but warm, appears. 

“I missed you too, Dean.” 

He lets that settle between them for a beat, basking in the words that always manages to sound a little different coming from his best friend than they ever did from his brother. 

“Back in the bunker…” he attempts again, only to trail off when he sees Cas visibly tense, eyes darting away again.

He’s waiting for rejection, he thinks to himself.

The realisation hits him like a spike through the back.

Too soon?

“Back in the bunker,” he continues for the third time, voice softer than he could ever remember it being, “I thought that was it. That we were gonna die. For good.” 

Cas’ gaze slowly starts to rise again.

“That Billie was gonna kill you, that the last thing I’d see before I died was her destroying you,” he pauses, his breath shaky, “and it broke me. That...fear...I started to shut down.” 

Blue eyes meet green. 

“And then you started talking,” he murmurs, his pulse speeding up as he recounts the memory he had fought so hard to keep buried, “you said that happiness isn’t in the having. It’s in just being. In just...saying it.’” 

A gasp, short and shallow and quiet escapes Cas, then.

But he keeps Dean’s gaze. 

“Yes I...I did say that.” 

Dean nods.

“You said something else too.” 

Cas nods back, a stricken expression crossing his face. 

“Dean—”

“I was frozen, paralysed,” Dean cuts across him, taking that last step towards him to halt merely inches from his face, “I...I couldn’t process what you were saying. I couldn’t...make sense of it. You said I was caring and selfless and the most loving human being you had ever known, but Cas,” he takes a deep, shuddering breath, the words lodging in his throat as he blinks back the burning behind his eyes. 

“You deserved so much better than what I gave you.” 

Cas shakes his head vigorously, holding up a hand. 

“No, Dean. What you gave me—”

“All I gave you was grief and anger and pain, man. I know that.” 

Cas’ mouth twists at that. 

“You always came when I called, you fell, rebelled, were hunted,” Dean continues, swallowing down the bile rising in his throat, “you gave me everything. You gave your grace, your life, more than once—”

“And I did all that, I risked my life, my grace, I rebelled and was hunted because I had changed, Dean. I cared. You changed me. You made me care about everything and everyone. You gave me that. You gave me a place in the world. A place to call home. A family to call my own. That was all you.” 

Cas is breathing hard. Dean’s eyes lowers to his chest, surprised to find it heaving. Something stirs in his stomach at the sight. 

“Do you understand?” 

Slowly, he lifts his gaze back up and nods. 

They fall into a silence, nothing but the sound of the water and some nearby birds passing between them. 

It’s here that Dean finally decides that his happiness deserves to be said. No Empty could threaten them here. But he’s always been an ‘actions speak louder’ kinda guy.  

Turning on his heel, he books it back over to Baby, throwing open the trunk. He can feel Cas’ wide, confused eyes on him and he reaches in and pulls out what he instinctively knows is somehow there, waiting for him. Slamming the trunk, he holds it behind his back as he races back over to the lake’s edge, a little unnerved that Cas may do one of his disappearing acts before he gets a chance to show him. 

He takes the last few steps slowly. Closing the distance between them bit by bit as he tries to dredge up every ounce of courage he has ever felt fighting demons and vampires and the Devil and God. 

He stops mere inches from Castiel, angel of the (former) Lord, and the best friend he has ever had and holds out his old trench coat, the same coat he had kept with him all this time, on every hunt, on every drive. 

“This uh...this belongs to you.” 

It’s not the only thing that belongs to him. But Dean can’t quite say that. Not just yet. 

“Dean…” Cas’ voice is low, soft when he reaches out to take it, their fingers brushing. 

A bolt of electricity flows up Dean’s arm, his grip tightening on the cloth.

“You kept it.” 

Cas sounds disbelieving, reverent, loving. 

He sounds like he has always sounded, now that Dean lets himself hear it.

See it.

“Of course I kept it. It’s yours. And I…” he lets out a breath, nerves settling as he allows himself to finally experience those feelings within him differently for the first time, like he once said he wanted to, to a priest in a church confessional. 

He speaks the truth, out loud, for his best friend, the man who has meant everything to him for what feels like forever, to finally hear.

“I love you too, Cas.” 

He half expects the new Heaven to open, a crack in the chassis of paradise to form at that revelation. 

But the water keeps flowing, the birds keep singing and Cas...keeps staring.

Not exactly the reaction he was going for.

“It’s...I’m honoured to be considered a Winchester brother.”

Dean blinks.

Ice cold fear, stronger and more intense than anything he had ever felt while he was alive, seeps into his veins, then. 

Had he got it wrong? What Cas was saying to him in his last moments? Had that not meant—

He looks down into those deep blue eyes and sees...more. More emotions and thoughts and feelings than Dean could hope to comprehend. 

Cas always did look at him a hell of a lot differently than Sam ever did. Than anyone ever did.

With a shake of his head and a mental pep-talk that consists fully of ‘fuck it, I’m already dead,’ he lets his hand slide across Cas’, halting it before he could pull away.

“No, Cas I-I mean yeah, you are a Winchester, always have been, but...that’s not what I meant. I...”

He puts the slightest amount of pressure on the back of his hand, almost squeezing but not quite, it enough to spur him on to make another confession. His deepest and oldest yet.

“What you wanted but...could never have? I-I’m saying you can have it.” 

He’s pretty sure neither one of them are breathing at that moment. Not that Cas ever needed to, or that they especially need to now. But, there is a noticeable stillness between them as Cas digests his words. 

It’s the longest seven seconds of Dean’s after-life. And considering time moves differently up here, that’s saying something. 

A smile, gentle but filled with so much happiness it has Dean’s heart hammering against his ribcage, breaks out on Cas’ face. 

“I would like that, Dean.” 

Bafflingly, he begins to shed his clothes.

Dean’s eyes widen, panic and something else surging through him as he glances frantically around for any prying eyes. Cas is stripping out in the open, in heaven of all places. 

Holy shit. The holiest. 

“Whoa, whoa, what—”

It’s then that he realises that Cas is just removing his coat and is now pulling on the old one, beaming. 

That settles something in Dean, then. Fills a space he knew had been empty for a long, long time, as his eyes land on Cas with his signature trench coat, striped tie and white shirt, even in paradise. 

He hadn’t changed too much, then. And God, (Jack?), Dean loves him for it. 

“How do I look?” Cas asks, holding his arms out, looking expectant, much like he had years ago when he had walked out of their motel bathroom, freshly changed and Dean didn’t know quite how to keep his shit together.

He had been so blind.

“Good,” he rasps before clearing his throat, reaching out and fixing Cas’ lapels, smoothing them down and itching to keep his hands resting just over his heart.

Another beat passed as Dean stared doggedly down at the old, brown material. 

"You know,” Cas begins, sounding as if he had just figured something out, “in those ‘chick flicks’ you insist you don't like, wouldn't this be the part where you kiss me?"

Green eyes meet those baby blue for what felt like the millionth and first time all at once. 

“You wanna have a chick flick moment, Cas?” he asks quietly, because he’s scared and needs a minute to actually get his shit together for the most important thing he never got to do in life. 

“After everything, I think we deserve it.”

Dean’s eyes slip closed at that, basking in the timbre of his voice as he leans down to rest their foreheads together. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, his breath brushing against Cas’ lips, “we do.”

He closes the gap and kisses him feather-light. 

Heaven doesn’t implode, the world doesn’t end.

So he does it again.

A little harder this time, his mouth dropping open in a half-gasp as Cas leans up, pressing against him and clutching at his shirt, his tongue trailing along his bottom lip. 

Damn. The pizza man teach him that too?

Any coherent thought leaves his brain when he licks into Cas’ mouth, their tongues meeting. Dean clasps Cas’ jaw in his hand Cas grips his shoulder, right over where his risened handprint used to lie, and his bloodied one stayed on his jacket forever as Dean never could bring himself to wash it before he kicked the bucket. 

Emotion wells in Dean’s chest, the word finally ringing within him. 

“I-I have wanted that for a very long time,” Cas mumbles against his lips as they break for air from habit rather than necessity. 

“Yeah, me too…” Dean replies, tipping their foreheads together again, “I’m sorry it took me so long to realise it.” 

Cas’ hold on his shoulder tightens. It’s forgiveness and an apology all in one. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’m sorry I had to leave you.” 

I’m sorry you died, lies unsaid between them. 

Dean merely shakes his head, tilting back to catch his eye. 

“So we’re two sorry dumbasses,” he jokes gently, warmth spreading in his chest at the sight of Cas’ bright eyes glistening, knowing his own are in a similar state.

“I prefer the word ‘pining.’ Less dumb, less ass.” 

A laugh bursts from Dean then, loud and more jovial than he had felt in years. 

“Come on, sunshine,” he grins, knocking their shoulders and staying close, “we got some people waiting to see us.” 

~~

For the lovely @itsmajel & @thefriendlypigeon ♥♥

(I’ve not watched a full episode of Supernatural in six years. The finale being the exception, so sorry for any inaccuracies!)