#who are not perfect angelic saints to each other all the time!!!

[necromycologist]

gotta say i love the sheer bitchiness of everybody in lockwood n co. im SERIOUS.

[jo-com]

can you write a story about how Alex, Charles and reader meet. Maybe she’s friends with someone in their friend group and when a,c and reader meet, a+c almost have love at first sight

🫶🏻🫶🏻

🎀 ⊹˚. ♡ ➛ Whipped

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux

Summary: Based off the request above!!

Genre: Throuple, Fluff

Note: Thanks for requesting and sorry if i only made it now😭 there are some grammatical errors here.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ˙✧˖°📷 ⋆｡˚─ ───────

The loud clink of utensils echoed around the group that mixed well with the faint sounds of people conversing with one another.

Laughter and playful banters were exchanged from the table of friends— one of them telling a joke that caused them to smile from ear to ear.

It was one of those nights where friends gather and boost about the things that happened to them; it was like their very own ritual to catch up every once in a while, but this time it was different.

There was another addition to the group.

….

“Ah, look whose here. Come y/n take a sit,” one of the girl asked, patting the empty seat besides her.

Y/n happily took the seat and smiled thankfully at her kind gesture. You were kinda nervous, seeing that you don’t know who half the table were, but it was nice to have new friends.

So you took the time to get to know each and every one of them.

While you we’re having a conversation with one girl at the group— two pair of eyes seemed to never left yours.

As if you were the only thing that seem to caught their attention; not even caring if one of their friends are trying to start a discussion with them.

Everything about you were just too mesmerizing— your eyes, your smile, and those laughs that sounds so angelic when it comes out of that pretty mouth of yours.

“Elle est si jolie (she is so pretty)” Alex whispered under her breath, that was loud enough for only she and Charles could hear.

“Je sais, je ne peux pas non plus la quitter des yeux (i know, I can’t take my eyes of her too)” Charles responded, his tone just screams ‘boy inlove’.

Don’t get me wrong, they’re happy with just the two of them, but you just make it so hard to not fall in love with you. I mean come on just look at you! You were built to perfection. God Is this what they call love at first sight?

If it were, then damn. They sure are whipped for you.

…

➛Message (Alex and Charles)

…

“Charles and Alex, you guys have been awfully quite for a while now” Bea exclaimed aloud, earning all the group’s attention to focus on them.

Including yours.

You flickered your eyes and glanced over at them. You’ve noticed their presence for a while now and just like the others you were star struck with their appearance. They were the epitome of luxury and elegance— they give of an aura that just seems so hard to approach them;

“Ah, sorry. Something just came up” charles spoke, his tone laced with sincerity.

As he said those word, his eyes met yours. It felt like he was directly saying it to you. But that’s just silly, imagine the Charles Leclerc saying those to you. Pfft hilarious.

“Oui, quelque chose de beau vient d'attirer notre attention (yes,something beautiful just caught our eye)” Alex spoke, her thick accent dripped with gracefulness.

Just like Charles, her words seems directed towards you. Her eyes latched onto yours— captivating the essence of your beauty.

You looked around, checking if she was looking at anyone else. To your surprise, there were no people at your back. You glanced back but she was no longer staring at you.

Hmm must be a coincidence.

…

Throughout the night, their eyes stared daggers at your direction— watching you like a hawk.

You could feel the burning gazes that came from them but just shrugged it off as a ‘must be someone at my back’ feeling.

…

“This was so much fun guys, i hope we could do this again soon”. One of your friends spat, smiling genuinely at all of you.

The night has finally come to an end; even though you felt all eyes on you every time, you still had fun.

All of your friends gathered their stuff and one by one began to leave the place. Saying all their goodbyes before finally taking off. Just as you were about too, two figure stood in your way.

You furrowed your eyebrows, confusingly. What’s going on?

“Uhm can i help you guys?” You asked, looking at them with pure curiosity.

Alex opened her mouth but then closed it again, she gently nudged Charles shoulder implying for him to speak up.

What the hell was going on, they look like high schoolers whose ready to confess.

Charles rolled his eyes and sighed,“Well, this is kinda awkward but me and my girlfriend were kinda hoping to get your number.”

Oh. So it was a confession kinda thing?

Your eyes widened from the sudden question, “but if you don’t want to it’s fine” Alex chimed in, her face turning red from the tense atmosphere.

You let out a giggle, seeing how their acting like teenagers inlove was just so adorable to you. So why not invest your time in these two cutesy couple.

“Here” you said, getting out your phone and showing them your number to which they wrote down.

…

After that day you guys continued messaging each other back and forth— creating a strong bond between the couple.

And eventually you guys were officially a couple, all three of you.

You were glad you came to that gathering.

…

Sorry for not updating in a while, hope you guys like this tough!!

[zmediaoutlet]

Hey Liz! Have you ready any good spn fic lately? :)

I have, and in fact I've been spite-reading. Have a curated wincest rec list you could share with anyone you like:

Bad Blood by astolat

Rating: E Word Count: 3,718 Summary: "Fuck me or I'm going to die isn't the world's best pickup line."  // "I've heard worse," Dean said. // "You've used worse," Sam said.

Original post date, 02/22/2007

Reccing because: No wincest primer would be complete without an astolat rec. You probably get fined by the Wincest FCC, otherwise. The flaw in astolat’s wincest, if we’re allowed to say such things about our saint and founder, is that Sam and Dean would sometimes fall into the whole thing super easily — this fic dispenses with that problem with a good ol’ classic dose of evil sex pollen, and if magic makes them do it then it could be a hell of a lot worse than how delightfully they do it here. I’m laughing out loud just remembering one of the scenes. Joys.

Coast On Through by philalethia

Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 7,857 Summary: A post-first-time fic. With a lot of sex.

Original post date, 12/22/2007

Reccing because: This is a true all-timer wincest fic. Though the characterization is of its 2007 time, the Winchesters still feel like themselves, and more important feel like adults who are trying to navigate their very odd circumstances. A real classic of the brothers-with-benefits genre.

Keep Our Minds on the Sum of Each Other by lazy_daze

Rating: E Word Count: 9,593 Summary: N/A; provided tags are Bodyswap

Original post date, 12/26/2007

Reccing because: What a cheerful fuckin’ fic this is, for a fic about incestuous fuckin’. This takes the apocalyptic stakes and reels them back to a just deeply entertaining romp. Not too worried about the plot and much more worried about how hot these two are when they slam together, it’s a refreshingly non-angsty take on what it means that you just want to slurp on your brother wholesale.

Filthy Mind by rivkat

Rating: E Word Count: 26,384 Summary: Dean acquires unwelcome nightly visitors. Set post-Hell, without details as to how that happens.

Original post date, 10/07/2008

Reccing because: RivkaT is perhaps the all-time understander of the Weird Affect of Dean Winchester (As Played By Jensen Ackles) and the entirely destabilizing effect that affect has on the world. A real reality-warper. This fic deals with non-con and dub-con and who-knows-what-con and everything in between in a way that is more thoughtful than tawdry (although you can certainly enjoy the tawdriness as presented and the fic does not judge you for that). It also, thrillingly, deals with Sam’s alarm about the whole thing in a way which is fairly unflinching: he wants and does not want to want and also just really, really desperately wants-- Fans of Sheila’s analysis will probably enjoy this one. 

seeing double by candle_beck

Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 5,127 Summary: Dean has a concussion and his better senses come and go.

Original post date, 04/24/2009

Reccing because: I know there are more famous and more favored c_b fics, but this one is such a supremely perfect scene that it should be at the top of all c_b rec lists. It isn’t the catastrophic misery or assholery or intensity of some of the other big hitters but this just has this searingly true and singular experience coursing through it: to wit, that Dean is hurt and Sam is upset and then sorry and then in love. Which isn’t a half-bad summary of Supernatural itself, really. 

The incestuous courtship of the antichrist’s bride by fleshflutter

Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 48,000 Summary: Sam is trying to become the Antichrist in order to save the world. He has a small army of angels and demons, he has an adoring cult, he has a work of prophecy by Jack Kerouac, and he has Dean. Things are going pretty well until he accidentally signs Dean up as his Beloved Consort, a role that requires sex with the Antichrist on an altar. And that's when things stop going pretty well. Also, the soundtrack to the Apocalypse sucks.

Original post date, 06/08/2009

Reccing because: It is so, so rare to find crack fics that work. This is crack treated like crack and also taken entirely seriously, which is a rare balance to find. When it needs to be horror it works, when it needs to be ridiculous it works, when it needs to be hot as fuck it works, and never has the phrase ‘apocalyptic cock’ been so appropriate and so wonderful in context. 

I’ve Got A Hand For You by Edwardina

Rating: E Word Count: 14,938 Summary: Sam's inexperience is showing, and Dean helps the best way he knows how.

Original post date, 03/12/2010

Reccing because: This is underage par excellence, as wonderfully weird and vaguely creepy and hot and alarming as it should always be. Dean’s 19 and Sam’s 14 and they should not but they are, and if that isn’t just a summary of Supernatural as a whole I don’t know what is. On the face of it this is a vaguely gnasty first time fic, but what sets this one apart is how earnestly real it is — the grimy-but-not-OTT reality of the details, Sam’s goofy kiddishness being complicated by the reality of what hormones are and do, Dean’s too-cool-ness alleviated by the fact that he’s nineteen and therefore still an idiot, trying earnestly to help and getting it wrong and getting it very right, all at the same time. The attention to detail here just knocks me over with a feather. Gorgeous work.

Two Part Invention by De_Nugis

Rating: T Word Count: 6,938 Summary: Dean settles down, Sam finds him, they settle some things.

Original post date, 12/25/2010

Reccing because: I very much appreciate a fic that, on the face of it, seems like an OOC premise, and then as soon as you think about it for fifteen seconds you realize — oh, of course, of course that’s how it should be and how it would go. This fic delivers on that feeling in spades. There’s a deep appreciation here for how complicated Sam Winchester is and how strange and hard it would be to have his life, and zero judgment, really, for what he and Dean have to do to make that life tenable. I appreciate the subtlety here so much.

Top This by leonidaslion

Rating: E Word Count: 4,076 Summary: Dean's sure he's a top. Only problem is, Sam's pretty sure that's his job …

Original post date, 04/10/2011

Reccing because: Is this crack? It surely is. Is it PWP? You bet. Is it in character? To be honest it hardly matters, but despite the context and conceit it does manage, somehow, to kinda feel like Sam and Dean Winchester from the canon of the show Supernatural, and that is a trick that earns it a spot on this list. Especially the way Sam goes slightly smug there at the end. Delights.

It’s the Blueprint of Your Life by queenklu

Rating: E Word Count: 38,400 Summary: Sam jerks awake in the middle of the night and everything goes to hell. Well, not literally, though Dean is staring down the barrel of less than a year before his deal comes due. In the midst of dealing (or not dealing) with his impending death, a killer ghost ship, and Bela showing up out of the blue, Dean also has to figure out what’s going on in Sam’s head to make him so twitchy, why he’s suddenly breezing through this case while writing endless notes in a notebook he won’t let Dean see. Damn it, Dean thinks, This is gonna take a lot of chickflick moments.

Original post date, 10/09/2011

Reccing because: Time travel fic is fun as hell, and time travel fic that just soaks you in dramatic irony is even more fun, and more importantly time travel fic where the time traveler doesn’t have all the answers is best of all. Very little is better than Dean being somewhat at sea and Sam loving him fiercely and this fic delivers that in spades. I could only wish it were a little longer, which is a very, very rare statement from me.

The Fall Will Probably Kill You by killabeez

Rating: M Word Count: 6,773 Summary: Set between 7.04 and the aftermath of 7.07. Dean is not as okay as he'd like you to think. Neither is Sam.

Original post date, 11/06/2011

Reccing because: This fic is thoroughly in and of and intensely about season 7, which I adored and which doesn’t get enough credit from the fandom. It deals with the Sam’s Insanity arc in a way that’s angstier and ficcier than the show itself but it does so in this stupendous and murderously flat way. Dean is at his wit’s end and Sam is, too, but Sam’s finding a way to deal with it, and Sam will not compromise on what dealing with it means, and we’re all just forced to live with it. Fantastic reading experience, especially for the almost literal jumpscare you get about 2/3s through.

The Hunter Games by theproblematique

Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 92,601 Summary: When the infamous Winchester bad luck strikes twice in quick succession Sam and Dean are forced to compete in the most brutal reality TV show ever created. It’s impossible to escape the battlefield, hiding can only be temporary, and alliances inside those dark, bloodstained woods last about as long as it takes for the other Hunter to figure out how to use your weapons. And then kill you with them.

Original post date, 06/22/2012

Reccing because: This is a true all-timer wincest AU fic. We’re mostly all familiar with the source material, but this work blends the universe of the Hunger Games with the characterization & destiny of the Winchester boys in a way that’s extremely satisfying. The author’s other works are recced more often, but this piece is more deserving of a place as One Of Those Reclist Fics.

Kevin Tran for President by glovered

Rating: T Word Count: 11,714 Summary: Dean comes back from Purgatory to find Sam working as a barista at a coffee shop near Princeton, watching over Kevin Tran.

Original post date, 10/04/2012

Reccing because: Sometimes you just need a post-Purgatory fic that isn’t brutal. This story’s a light-hearted trip-along froth like most of glovered’s work, but there’s something in specific about this unfraught coming-together that makes it incredibly readable. Dean and Sam aren’t entirely on the same page but the relief of reunion makes everything else fade a little into the distance, and the charming little job they find themselves on here gives enough of an excuse for them to figure some things out. Also probably the best Cas & Meg side characters in a fic, so there’s that too.

Clear and simple and plain by Trojie

Rating: E Word Count: 1,893 Summary: After Sam gives up the Trials, things start getting better.

Original post date, 10/26/2013

Reccing because: This is a post-Trials fic where things don’t go incredibly wrong, which is a nice AU to sit in for a while. What’s impressive about this story, written in the time it was, is that it manages to presage the ~s11 era marriage very well indeed, in tone and vibe and even some content. They’re in the bunker and things aren’t perfect, but they’re together, and that’s a kind of perfection of its own. It isn’t sugary but it’s the kind of adult complex sweetness that makes one feel better, anyway.

hello by allwellandgood (formerly askance)

Rating: T Word Count: 4,128 Summary: There's a woman at the grocery store named Evelyn who always rings him up on the days he ventures out for food and she knows him, or likes to think she does. I hope you're not too lonely, she'll say. He chooses not to tell her that his dead brother sleeps at his feet every night. He'd rather not be the cause of her inevitable heart attack.

Original post date, 08/11/2014

Reccing because: So Dean’s dead. Everyone dies at some point. This fic is a beautifully soft and tender and bitterly kind way to deal with that. You feel Sam’s loss deep in your chest but it’s okay, because this is the world of Supernatural and there are options, and the relief he gets pours over like cool water. Not enough, and it’s not fixed, but it’s not as much of a misery as it was.

The Time Traveler’s Brother by amypond45

Rating: R Word Count: 55,458 Summary: Dean's life is turned upside down the night his mother dies. But that's also the night a mysterious grown-up version of Dean's brother first appears in his life. While Dean grows up, "Old Sam" is often there, especially when Dean's father isn't, and as Dean learns what the future holds, he begins to question everything his father has taught him about who he is and what he is supposed to become. Can Dean find a way to save his little brother from his own future? This pre-series AU follows Dean from age four to eighteen.

Original post date, 02/26/2015

Reccing because: It’s rare to have an AU so thoroughly engage with what the alternate universe it constructs means for characterization and plot. This does something outstanding with the Sam and Dean (and Deans) created by the conceit, but also uses that conceit to do something entirely new with the canon plot that just flips me over every time I remember it. There are some fantastic character insights here, both complimentary and not, but I’ll never be over the specific scene of young!Dean looking up at older!Dean and being disappointed. That’s him, that’s our little angst machine.

The King of Imperfections Takes Back the Prince of Mistakes: a fairy tale by britomart_is

Rating: E Word Count: 4,822 Summary: And they lived happily ever after.

Original post date, 06/06/2016

Reccing because: The summary is pretty much the summary and that’s such a relief, sometimes. They’re awful and stupid and they’re in love and love isn’t enough except it is, and they’re so friggin’ MARRIED in the most wonderful and dorky way. They have good-bad sex and they have idiot arguments and they’ve made it. Back in 2016 this seemed like the best possible option. Reading this story feels like reading 4800 words of relief.

Raw Food Diet by themegalosaurus

Rating: E Word Count: 2,959 Summary: Sam has one more meeting today. This one isn’t in his diary; not the public calendar everyone at the firm can access, nor the private one on his cell.

Original post date, 02/14/2019

Reccing because: If you were looking for depressing and almost revolting Lebanon AU, you’re in luck. This is serial killer!Dean at his worst and Sam Jobs at his (still slightly martyred) almost-worst and it’s the frankly gross and logical conclusion to: what would it mean, if those two horrible shitheads were still together, somehow or some way? It’s always almost a relief when fic manages to do a not-happy ending and this definitely does that. Refreshing, in its way, though you might want a shower after.

Ions in the Ether by nigeltde

Rating: E Word Count: 10,860 Summary: When was the last time you trusted happy.

Original post date, 03/12/2019

Reccing because: For any s2 obsessives as our author here is, this is a deep and alarming and inside-out dive into the obsession with a brother and with monstrousness and with what’s true and what’s not and also can you tell the difference, after all. A murky swirl through a shithole town, this fic picks and pries at wincest-as-concept in a way that’s somewhat achy and alarming and is overall delightful, if you’re willing to take the time to think about it. Plus Sam’s hot, which is of course a bonus.

there will be better days by deadlybride

Rating: E Word Count: 9,430 Summary: Sam and Dean settle into their heaven.

Original post date, 11/24/2020

Reccing because: I’m crass. But also I can’t think of another fic that feels as much like heaven as this one and I wanted heaven on the list.

[theweirwoodfiles]

The Weirwood Files: Rhaewin (Rhaenyra x Harwin)

Subject: A defense of Harwin Strong and an analysis of his relationship with Rhaenyra.

I want my first real post to be a deep dive into the beautiful relationship that is Rhaenyra x Harwin, a relationship that team green considers shameful, while team black (mostly staunch daemyras), finds it shallow and boring. I believe both interpretations are incorrect, as even with their limited screen time together, Emma and Ryan managed to tell a beautiful love story, even in just the way they looked at one another. With a single look, so much was said without a word being spoken. 

One thing that Rhaewin has begun to get criticism for lately, is the idea that Harwin is no better than any other man in Rhaenyra’s life, that he too has groomed and taken advantage of her, that perhaps he is no “saint” as he seems to be treated by the fandom. 

The truth is, there is nothing within the canon to suggest this. The first moment we get between them is when we see Harwin giving Rhaenyra an encouraging look after she returns from killing the boar. Nothing here implies he is lusting after her. Instead, Harwin merely just stands out as being the only one at the hunt to look at her with admiration while everyone stares in confusion or judgment. 

The next two scenes we are given of them also definitely don’t have any hint of predatory behavior from Harwin. He runs into her after she snuck out with Daemon and presumably decides to keep her secret, and the one after that he carries her away out of the chaos during her wedding after being given permission by his father, the hand. 

There is no canon evidence to support Harwin groomed her. Grooming implies a pattern of behavior over time that we do not see from Harwin. He and Rhaenyra have no pre existing relationship before they conceive Jace, Harwin does not even put himself forward for her hand during her marriage tour. Harwin does not commit any predatory actions towards Rhaenyra. 

This quote by Sara Hess is the closest we have to an official canonical description of Harwin, and while granted, Hess has said her fair share of questionable things in the past, there is nothing in the canon that disputes what she said. 

“He’s one of the more unambiguous characters, he’s just a good dude. You don’t see him off doing morally questionable things, which almost everybody else is doing. They’re so flawed and human and messy. He was able to be a paragon of decency and generosity and handsome strength. He’s one of the guys you could just love and feel great about loving and then he’s ripped from you too soon, before he does anything that could fuck that up for you. He’s our perfect angel.”

With this settled, I want to move on to their actual love story. We know they did not have much time together before they conceived Jace, considering the timeline of events. What we can put together at least, is that Rhaenyra was in a vulnerable position with Laenor. After they tried several times to conceive and failed, she needed to secure her position quickly and found solace in Harwin, who proved himself to be one of the only trusted figures she had in court. 

The next time we see Rhaewin is after the time jump. They have already had two beautiful sons together and another has just been born. Despite this implied intimacy, they have to hide their affections, only able to give each other coy smiles and a playful line here and there. Harwin holds their newborn son and Rhaenyra looks at the sight with adoration, yet also a hint of sadness, as if she is thinking of a world where they could be open about their love. In the night, they are in each other’s arms and make sons, princes of the realm. Yet in the day, these stolen moments are all they can afford.

The next time we see Harwin, he points out Criston Cole’s lack of care in his son’s training. He attempts to teach Jace as distantly as he can, and it is very clear he is increasingly frustrated with only being able to go so far in his son’s teachings. In the end, Cole still provokes him, and Harwin unleashes his anger on him. All the pain and frustration of only being able to love Rhaenyra and their children from afar is let out in the form of this beatdown on Cole. 

It would not follow without consequence however. Harwin is ordered to leave his position as Commander of the City Watch and go back to Harrenhal, away from Rhaenyra, away from their sons. Ryan Corr does an amazing job in this scene and you can just feel his utter devotion when he says one of my favorite lines from the show “you have your honor, and I have mine”. 

In a world where conceiving bastards is considered sinful and shameful, Harwin sees their union as one of love and honor. His sons are not treacherous reminders of sin and lust, but worthy princes born of love.

Rhaenyra and Harwin’s final scene together is one of the most heartbreaking scenes in the show. Rhaenyra is losing one of the only trusted figures she has in court, the man she sought comfort in and who fathered her three sons, and Harwin is losing everything that means the most to him. And once again, despite the privacy, despite the fact that this is their last moment together, they still cannot be open about their love. There is no final kiss goodbye, not even a hug. There is only a single look between them that says all we need to know, and a hopeful promise that Harwin will return. 

One of the most tragic things about this scene is that Jacaerys picks up on everything between them. He sees the looks shared between them, the desire for a hug or a kiss, he sees it all and he knows what it means. His mother and father have a love story that they can never tell anyone about, not even their own son. 

TL;DR: Rhaewin is a beautiful yet tragic twist on the knight and princess love story trope. Those that see this relationship as shameful have had their brains rotted by team discourse who buy into the “bastardphobia” present in universe (despite the fact that that is constantly criticized by the narrative itself), and wave it away as a “mistake”. There is nothing at all shameful about their relationship, and their sons were not made of sin, but of love. Rhaewin is also far from boring or shallow, to say this is to insult the work done by Emma and Ryan. There is a very beautiful, and rich love story between these two characters for those that have eyes to see it.

[asmoslverboy]

To love the devil; Dottore x GN!Reader.

He is who he has always been. Despite the centuries he's had to accept and embrace his darkness, though he claims otherwise, he can't help but try to hide away from you. Neither one of you's a saint, but through his eyes, you're an angel. CW! Angst, immortal × immortal, Dottore is referred to as "Zandik", self sabotage on Dottore's part♡, dottore being emotional (ooc tbh, im self projecting on him)??

932 words

Dottore has many sides to him that he'd rather hide off from you. For someone so egotistical, so full of pride, you'd never expect him to be ashamed of who he is, who he has become. And he's not— shame, embarrassment— those aren't emotions that he's familiar with.

But fear, now that's a whole other conversation. It's not like you don't know what he's done, the things he's guilty of, his list of crimes, and of unethical desires he's tried to fulfill. It's not like you haven't personally seen him drown in sin over the 400 years of knowing him.

"Zandik, did I upset you?" You ask him as you're sitting on top of his desk while he's in his chair, looking up at your figure. He's been quite distant lately, more than usual. You could easily assume that he was having one of his isolative episodes, but he doesn't seem to be avoiding anyone other than you.

"Hm?" That's all you get from him, accompanied by a raise of his right brow, but his focus soon goes back to his notes, going over them, rambling about how he needs his next project to be the embodiment of perfection. Creating an aranara, was it? Some things, it seems, never change. He was so obsessed with the idea of capturing one of those little creatures of nature, back when the two of you were still students.

The next few hours pass by in the same cycle of events. You try talking to him, he shrugs it off and continues digging his head deep into his research files.

Do not expect any more of him for the next days, weeks even. It's like your existence no longer matters to him. All you see is the man that you've been with throughout basically your whole entire lives, acting as if you were a mere accomplice. He has repeated this type of scheme in the past, more than once, but it never lasted as long as it did this time.

Each of your attempts of getting a simple response out of him, one that requires actual words instead of some grunt or hum, has gone to waste.

You're unsure of what to do. Should you be more worried for him or for yourself? Is this the time it all ends between the two of you? Should you really just give up on him at this point?

"Zandik," you called out, but not to him, nor to anyone else. Sitting by a lake, all by yourself, no one to your company, other than the thousand microorganisms that lived and thrived in the waters. "I wish you would just speak to me."

It's not like you lack friends to confide in. But would anyone be as understanding towards him— the one who was labeled a monster, by all who've known him and by himself first and foremost— after you tell them about his present behaviors?

You laid your head on the cold, wet grass. Surrounded by nature, the collective of existence. You could never be alone in this world, not as long as you believe that everything around you is as alive as you are.

But are you truly alive? If, in the past, your definition of the word was to express yourself in every way, to feel and to be felt, would you consider yourself alive at this very moment?

Another day has come— it seems you had fallen asleep on the ground. You awoke, a couple ducks quaking as they poke you with their beaks. They didn't mean to hurt you, though. And if you think about it, your beloved is much like these ducks. He does what he thinks would best help you. Even if it has opposing effects.

"You shouldn't stay," he told you, his tone felt like it could cut through metal. You were back at his office again, figuring you could at least help him out at work, if unable to help his inner world. He was taking off his gloves as he was done inspecting some ancient Khaenri'ahn technology items. "Do you want me to—"

"I've given you every reason to leave. Yet you still cling to me like a bloodthirsty eel." He cut you off. He has never spoken to you like this (not whilst he was sober, nor whilst he was in his right mind). He was calm, but he spoke as if you were an object to be dismissed.

"Do you not love me anymore?" You wanted to ask him so, so desperately. But the potential answers to that question shook you to your very core. So you dared not speak.

Such conflict within you. Shall you leave him be? Shall you listen to his words instead of pursuing him any further? You're painfully aware of his nature; to push you away when he needs your presence most.

But it's been going on for far too long, has it not? If he's not allowing you to help him, then really, what else is there to do, if not fend for yourself?

"You deserve better," he wrote to you, in a letter that'll never reach your sight. "Your love should not be limited to one who can not accept, nor react to it," he wrote again. But who is he trying to fool? He knows that this piece of paper, along with all the other ones he's tried to write, will be crunched up and disposed of.

Not even once, for the sake of the person who's loved him through it all, will he allow himself to be heard.

[54625]

It's wild to me how much more meaning Stranger In Paradise (which is the FitMC lore song, has been since his first ever lore drop) has accumulated over time and how it honestly fits the character and plot even better than it did at first.

Cause like, the first verse is extremely self explanatory. Quesadilla Island has been described as this perfect paradise, and would absolutely seem like some kind of wonderland to a man who has lived the life that Fit has. And of course he's a stranger there, because a person like him would be extremely out of place on such an island. Not to mention that he's very much an odd one out, being far more in the know than a lot of other islanders, and on account of the whole. Being a spy thing.

But this verse. This feels like a perfect reference to Madagio and his threats of punishment. We've already seen Madagio act like an angel or god figure, and he's definitely not a "mortal," so that last line feels incredibly apt for him.

But also. If I stand starryeyed, that's a danger in paradise; "do not form attachments". If Fit enjoys the island too much, gets wrapped up in it and therefore gets distracted from the mission (if he stands starryeyed), then he risks Madagio's punishments, which are to harm him and his loved ones. (It's a danger, for mortals who stand beside).

I saw your face and I ascended out of the commonplace; into the rare. This is Ramón. This line was always about Ramón. How he turned Fit from some common thug/mercenary/spy into a literal father; something far more special.

But the second half of this verse makes far more sense in the context of Fit's relationship with Pac. Until I know there's a chance that you care? Have they not been tiptoing around this for months? The question of whether or not they actually care for each other in a more-than-friends kind of way?

I love this verse in the context of Fit's story. A fervent prayer? Fit's attempts to communicate with Madagio, surely. Won't you answer? He never did get those messages through. Also continuing the religious symbolism of Madagio being some kind of god, saint or angel that one would pray to.

And don't send me in dark despair from all that I hunger for. Fit wants a happy life. He wants to be happy with his son, his Pac, his morning crew. All of his friends. He wants to continue being a part of a welcoming community, creating instead of destroying, loving instead of hating. He just wants to be happy. But if he betrays Madagio (or even simply does something that Madagio interprets as abandoning the mission), he'll be sent back to the wasteland. In dark despair, from all that he hungers for. He'll lose everything he's gained.

The last verse is super self explanatory again. He doesn't have to be a stranger on Quesadilla Island. He doesn't have to be an outsider. He deserves to be one of them, the islanders, the family that has been formed.

I don't know I just find it so neat that this song has developed even more meaning and relevance in Fit's story. Fit and his fucking music choices, man

[k-n0-x]

༺ ♱✮♱ ¨:·Something Stupid-Chapter 3·:¨ ♱✮♱ ༻

A/N: Hii everyone! Sorry this chapter is a little later than usual, burnout happened, school happened, the whole shebang! This chapter is a doozy though, hope you all will love it <3

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Enjoy<3

꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🦢♕✶💫☾🥀꧂

The sun rays peek through your window and the birds’ chirps awake you from your slumber.

Or maybe it’s the snoring of a drowsy Adam, who was lying beside you, though you’ve inured yourself to his unconscious noises for ages.

You get up from your bed, just to almost have your legs give way under you, thanks to the fact that you had to be pounded by your husband, as you promised to him.

Last night felt like a chore. You feel really bad for thinking it, but it really did. 

You’re not an expert, but sex should feel enjoyable, by all sides involved, but with Adam, it feels like an obligatory activity.

You spend the next 25 minutes brushing your teeth, showering and getting ready for the day. Since there’s nothing to do at home (well, there’s nothing to do at home) you decide that this is a good time to be productive.

You head into the kitchen and scrutinise each and every ingredient that graces your pantry.

“Hmm, maybe this would work…”  You grab flour, eggs, milk and a frying pan…

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

The smell of buttery pancakes drifts throughout the kitchen. You sit down in your chair and take a bite of your breakfast.

The pancakes themselves were lovely; the consistency was just right and the flavour was something to die again for, courtesy of Heaven’s always perfect ingredients.

Heaven…. 

‘Perfect’ Heaven.

Up until a few weeks ago, you would have believed that sentimental saying that you hear being thrown around on multiple occasions, but now, those words seem like direct opposites of each other, an oxymoron even.

The mere thought of it sets an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

You shakily finish one pancake, and neatly leave the rest in the microwave. 

You have more pressing matters to get on about today, and pancakes aren’t one of them, though you want it to be. 

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

“Welcome to Heaven, how can I help?” The Saint looks up from his logbook with a face coloured with surprise when he recognises you.

“Y/N! How’ve ya been?” 

“I’m doing good,” you smile up at the angel behind the pedestal.

“So, what can I do for the wonderful wife of Adam, hm?” St. Peter clicks his tongue and finger guns.

“Well, Peter, is there a chance you could show me the list of Heaven’s recent residents? There’s a certain person I’m looking for…” Realisation hits you like a truck. Would this information be classified? You wouldn’t know until-

“Yeah sure, here!” The Saint passes you a page with written names and dates.

“This is a list of  Heaven’s newest angels from up to a month ago. I hope you find who you’re looking for!” 

“Thanks Pete, you’re a Saint,” 

“Well, I am Saint Peter after all, ah bye-bye!” 

Well that was easier than anticipated. 

Now you need a private place to mull it over…

You walk through the brightly lit heavenly streets and bump into someone, sending you and your papers flying.

“Oh my, misss, I am ssssso ssssorry,” The person bends down to collect the papers.

“No, no it’s fine, sorry-” your voice gets stuck in your throat. You take a close look at the person collecting your papers.

The person, or, you should say snake, was sporting a smart coat, top hat, and eyes in his hair?

He was familiar. Where have you seen him before?

Your eyes dilate in recognition.

He was pixel perfect to the mural that Charlie showed you the other day.

“Excuse me for asking, but are you Sir Pentious?” 

The snake demon, or angel, looks around before leaning in. 

“Depends on who’sssss asssking,”

“Oh uh,” you think for a moment. How do you explain that you know he was a demon, without seeming like a stalker of sorts. 

Clearly, this isn’t the subject to have casually in the street.

“Here, let me explain over tea and cookies, hm? My treat!” You grab the hand of Pentious gently and head to the nearest café.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

“And ssso, thisss Adam guy just sssnapped me out of existence, and now I’m here, but without my egg boisss,” Pentious explains while indulging himself with a Pain un Chocolat, eyes welling while doing so.

“Huh, I see. So Charlie’s plan does work,” you mumble to yourself. “And I apologise for my husband, by the way,”

The snake pales, his skin now ashy.  “He’ssss, your husssband?” he instinctively pushes away from you in his seat.

“Yes, but don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I just promised Charlie that I would help her with the hotel and redemption and all that…”

“Oh I sssee. Here’ss my card if you need anything more,” He produces a card and hands it to you, and you accept it graciously, despite it having a slimy residue on it. 

“Great! I have to go now but it was nice meeting you,”  you shake his hand and leave the café.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

“So, what’s it like having sex with the first man? What are your orgasms like?”

“Angel, don’t torment the poor girl,” 

“Whaat? Just askin’” Angel groans and puts his phone on the countertop of the bar.

Apparently, Charlie has gone AWOL, along with Vaggie and Lucifer, the three people that deserve to be the first people aware of the gratifying information you are holding.  

This tension is getting you antsy, but you answer your newfound bestie’s question.

“Overrated to be honest. Not meaningful in the slightest,” Your blunt answer stuns Angel and Husk for a moment.

“What’s this about orgasms?” You turn back to the entrance of the hotel.

Shit. 

The one person whom you didn’t want to hear you say that, was standing in front of you, holding about 10 shopping bags, his daughter and his daughter’s partner  following suit.

God, what must he think? You want to slam your head into the table, but you refrain yourself.

“Uh Dad?” Charlie taps her dad’s shoulder.

“Maybe let’s refrain from talking your way into the sex life of guests? Anyway, how are you, Y/N? I hope everything’s alright?” Charlie inadvertently snapping you out of your apparent embarrassment.

“Oh yes! Not just alright; absolutely amazing actually. I have important information to tell you so forgive me for my impromptu visit, but it clearly cannot wait,” you practically jump out of your chair, bursting with energy. 

My, you haven’t felt this emotion since…

Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

“Well, I did some digging and…” you grab the crusted card from your bag.

“Well, congratulations to you, Miss Charlie Morningstar, Princess of Hell, because your dream is a reality!” You flourish the card to Charlie, and she takes it.

She blinks. 

Everyone else blinks.

“Uh, what is this exactly?”

You groan. Fun police much? 

“Sinners can be redeemed, I found Sir Pentious in Heaven just this morning,” you concede, impatiently tapping the card.

“Wait really? You aren’t just messing with me?” Charlie’s eyes practically shone with stars.

“Angels aren’t known for that darling.” 

As soon as you say that Charlie squeals and jumps up and down, ecstatic.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyooouuuuuu!” She gushes and hugs you extremely tight, constraining your lungs, but you really don’t care.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” You pull away to have Alastor behind you, with that ever-so-familiar-yet-unpleasant grin. 

When did he get here?

“Seems like out little Morningstar is becoming quite the entrepreneur,” Alastor places a hand on Charlie’s shoulder, as though they are father-daughter.

Father-daughter, where the daughter’s biological dad is directly beside them. 

“Hey, hey now, get your slimy claws off of my daughter, would ya?” Lucifer asks the Radio demon, half laughing.

“Oh? The same daughter you’ve abandoned for countless years on end? The same daughter who had to build this establishment by herself, with no support. The same daughter I’ve been faithful to, in comparison to you? I’ve stuck through thick and thin with her. Hell, I probably fit the Dad position by definition,” 

The room is loud with silence; you could probably hear a pin drop.

Alastor’s voice carries those words in a seemingly defensive manner, but you can tell that those words don’t hold any meaning to him.

It seems like you’re the only person to realise that, because with the slam of a door, Lucifer exits the room, leaving an aura of pure anger and jealousy behind.

“Dad!” 

“Charlie, maybe you should give him a breath of fresh air-” Vaggie tries pulling her back.

“No! Vaggie, he needs someone to be there with him. God knows what he will do and what if-” Charlie is in a craze to get to the door. 

“I’ll go,” you say abruptly. Without question, you go through the door.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

“Hey, it’s really hot out here, you know,” you stand at the garden door, as the king gazes out on Hell’s not-so-perfect landscape depressingly.

Silence. 

“Alastor was just pulling your leg back there, he just wanted to piss you off,” you stand beside him, keeping an appropriate distance.

“I know. That’s not the problem. The problem is that-” his voice hitches.

“Go on,”

“The problem is, is the fact he’s not even wrong; I left Charlie with nothing, she had to support herself before help came along, I barely was there for her throughout all of this, until the very last moment, when she didn’t even need me anymore,” The King of Hell rambles, and fidgets with a small yellow thing in his hand. A bird of some sorts.

A duck? 

“I can’t do anything right,” he continues.

Okay, you have to stop getting sidetracked by meagre things. 

“Lucifer, listen. Yes, you may not have been there for her before, but you’re here now, and you are ready to help. Yes, I know it’s scary, yes I know it’s hard, but I have an inkling that Charlie would love to start having a bond with her father again. Also, you know her and how she is; she isn’t the type to shut you out. Just try to put some work into it, okay?” 

That felt like more of a ramble, than advice, but it seems to suffice for the King of Hell. 

“Thank you. I really know why Charlie has taken a liking to you…” he trails off, continuing to fidget with the rubber duck. He squeezes it, and it plays a short, spunky tune. 

“And see? Atleast you’re doing something small for now, you should take it easy. By the way, that’s the most adorable rubber duck!” You gush at the plastic fellow, earning a smirk from Lucifer.

“Oh? Changing the subject are we?” The fallen angel teases.

Well, that was out of nowhere, but you just go with the flow.

“Yeah, and what? That’s a fuckin’ cool duck, so I apologise for acknowledging that fact,”

“Ah well, I have better. By the way, why are you talking about orgasms to that porn star- I mean Angel, back there?” 

Oh yeah. That happened. 

“Gee, why does everyone want to know the juicy details of my life? But really,he was just interested in my sex life, that’s all,” 

“Interesting. You know I slept with 2 of Adam’s previous wives?”

“Don’t even try,” you give him a playful shove.

“Eh, worth a shot,” 

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

You and the blond-haired demon go back inside, giggling about some disastrous function you went to when you were younger, and how you may or may not have been the leading cause.

Thankfully, the only person in the lobby was Charlie, who jumped to hug her father the second she saw the two of you, making them both cry and profusely apologise to one another.

Yeah, maybe it’s a good time to go. Maybe quietly too this time. 

You open the portal, and you are back in Heaven again, in front of the pearly gates of the place you call home. 

As you open the door and turn into the living room, you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Hey,” The sound of your husband’s voice rings through your ears.

“I ate your pancakes from this morning,” 

“Alright. I’ll make dinner soon, but I’m tired right now,” you pave your way to your bedroom, when Adam pulls you back.

“Where were you even?”

“Places,” you try to pull away, but the First Man doesn’t relent.

“Where? You weren’t in Heaven, were you?” 

“Alright fine. I was in Hell, cleaning up the mess you and your little play soldiers made by the way,” 

“Were you not there the other day? Why are you so attached to this-” Cogs turn in Adam’s head.

“You were with him, weren’t you? You fucking slut,” Adam’s hand swiftly slaps you across the face. A small cut of golden blood streaks down your face.

“What the fuck? Of course Lucifer is gonna be there, you dumbass?! Why do you think I’m gonna sleep with-” You dodge a flying porcelain jug that was headed in your general direction.

“That fucking demon, thinking he’s hot shit and- and all, just fucking whoever he wants-” The Angel starts storming around the living room, just throwing random shit about, like a kid having a tantrum, making colourful insults while doing so.

You sigh and go into the kitchen to make dinner; hopefully Adam would have blown off enough steam by then.

“Oh and- You better not go back there again, you got it?” 

“…Fine,” You slam the door behind you.

Clearly, you have to be more furtive about your visits to the underworld.

For now, maybe you should cook some dinner, and a warm bath.

Your back really hurts.

꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🐣♕✶💫☾🥀꧂

Word count- 2264

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[hhighkey]

Decode // Chapter Three, Dried Flowers

Dracule Mihawk (opla) x OC (female reader)

Rating: mature

Story Contains: live action characters, related and non-related one piece plots, unspecified religion, OC is a nun on sabbatical, trauma, violence, age gap (40 v 23), insecurities and self doubts, possessive / protective behavior, kidnapping, true loves, eventual smut

Note: WOW its been awhile I am so sorry

Masterlist

-

SEVEN YEARS AGO

The sounds of pattering feet against ivory tile echoed in the empty halls of the Saint Mana Monastery- a line of veiled nuns walked towards the temple. Angelic chimes rang through the air from the chilled breeze. Soft murmurs of prayers left the lips of bowed heads that never wavered formation. 

A year had gone by since Sabine's father shipped her off. How her hands still shook with anger when she thought of him- his hideous face with the larger than life mustache. A weak, pathetic man who cared for nothing more than himself and booze to hold him over another day. Oh how she prayed at night he'd receive his karma, or wonder if he already had. As her head bowed and her breathing quick, she felt herself grow angry thinking about him. 

The shining midday sun glittered through stained glass in the temple- an expansive room with little pews for the nuns knelt on the cold tile floor. Dressings dragged as perfect rows in front an altar formed. Prayers, both in silence and echoing unison, rang out over the monotonous hour. Like a choir of singing angels existed in the holiness as glittering colored light shone, chimes and lovely words alike breathing life into stale air. 

Each day was of strict routine, monotonous repetitions asides the holy day of Sundays. Early mornings causing early nights. Constant prayers and studying. Chores. Prayers again. Then little alone time which caused little individuality to flourish between sisters; a purposeful thing, intended to create to create pliable female worshipers,

Before 'silence time' however, there was a waiting stack of dishes needed to be ready for dinner. 

Which was how Sabine found herself in the kitchens with other girls her age. Her eyes had grown heavy with each passing minute. Her brain all foggy from a restless sleep and racing thoughts that felt like a knife stabbing her chest over and over. This wasn't what she saw her life being at sixteen– washing dishes in a neat assembly line with water all splattered on a nun's habit she wore each day. The closet of her room was filled with dozens of the same fabrics, it seemed. 

Normally one for conversation when able, it was quickly noticed when she wasn't partaking. Sabine looked at each plate she rinsed as if it were the devil, glaring eyes and pursed lips. 

"What about you Sister Mary Sabine?"

Sabine's head jerked to look towards the other girls assigned to dish duty, whose eyes bore into her, "Huh? Sorry, wasn't listening."

"What would you want out of life if you weren't a nun? Sister Mary Ellen says she'd work in a brothel! Can you believe it?"

"We all want what we can't have," Another Sister said, "Life of temptation always seems so fun."

"So, what about it Sabine?" Continued interrogation from the ever-chatty blonde, Sister Anna Lea.

"Yeah, what's your deepest darkest desire?" 

Sabine stopped, held the sopping wet plate in hand as she hummed to herself for a moment. She didn't want to say the first thing that popped into her head but she couldn't think of anything better to say-

"I want a husband," Sabine then said with a dreamy look in her eye, "Someone who meets me and knows I'm the one. I don't care about having kids, I just want to be loved and in love."

A few snickers followed her reply but most hummed in an agreement of solidarity, "Genuine question, why do priests and cardinals get to marry but not us? Sexist that we have to marry ourselves to the Father."

The group of girls Sabine spent her time with were of like age- teens to young twenties, most hadn't taken permanent vows like herself. So it was no surprise their talk turned to gossip about outdated ways. As much as Sabine agreed she tried to never engage even inadvertently, you never know who's listening, and she preferred to bide her time with her head down. Good behavior, as if she were a prisoner waiting for an early release.

"Ladies."

As if on cue— The matriarch, the most feared one of the elder nuns who sat on top, stood in the doorway hands on her hips. Most girls had shocked, wide eyes as they stammered apologies or turned back to their duties. 

Sabine could only shake her head, feeling nostalgic thinking about a life she'd probably never have. Daydreaming as the hours ticked by, her stomach filling with butterflies and chest tightening as she thought about scenarios of loving encounters with a man. 

It was 9:00PM when an intrusive knock jolted her and her dorm-mate, Sister Therese Sienna, up from their beds. Half-awake they looked at each other before Sienna crept to the wooden door. Their room was small and plain, not expected of two teenage girls. Peeling white walls with crosses hung on each surface. Simple wooden wardrobes and a centerpiece rug. Windows that had to be glued stuck, with pilling curtains covering them. 

Sabine rubbed her eyes as she looked around, shifting in the primarily uncomfortable bed, "Who is it?"

Sienna, with a huff, opened the door revealing Sisters Anna and Lea, "Oh the chatty squad is here,"

"Don't be like that," Lea shrugged, "You two aren't asleep."

"Neither are you two?"

The two uninvited visitors pushed their way in, with Lea marching proudly to Sabine's bed side to strip her of her covers. She recoiled from the sudden chill in the air and attempted to shield herself. 

"Get dressed, we have plans."

"Plans we didn't agree to," Sabine murmured, grabbing a lone shawl across the chair at her bedside. Yet she wasn’t willing to sit this out, not the way Lea had a smug confident look on her face. 

Neither of them were fond of the idea of being out past curfew, especially without an in depth explanation. Only by the light of oil lamps and scattered candles could they move about, footsteps echoing in the cavernous monastery halls. They were like little scurrying mice, constantly looking over their shoulders and around corners, fearful. But growing in certainty as they entered a more desolate area of the monastery. 

"Oh hurry up," Lea spat under the moonlight that streamed through a cracked window as they hurried by it. 

"You're being ridiculous." 

An eerie silence amidst their footsteps as they descended an older flight of creaking wooden stairs, made Sabine internally cringe. This wing of the monastery was creepy. Old. Worn down. Probably disease ridden in the air they breathed. Old paintings that collected dust amongst the broken cement walls, doors boarded up, and relics discarded haphazardly.

Rumors said a prior cardinal died here after performing a ritual, or an exorcism, the stories are different depending who speaks them. That afterwards series of misfortunate events began to take place, sudden deaths and great grievances that would plague their church for years. After a nun took her own life in the tower, it was officially regarded as dangerous for use and locked up. But all locks could be broken. 

Sabine felt unsettled. A pit in her stomach made her more on edge than past times they’d snuck into the abandoned ward. It felt like the eyes of the people in the paintings followed their every move with starch judgment, it filled her with shame. But the adrenaline to have say over her life that was unjustly ripped from her, was too tantalizing to say no to. 

“Good, we’re all here.” An older girl with long blonde hair spoke as they all formed a circle in a dimly lit room. It was further down than Sabine had been before, no windows and the air was heavy and moist. Her pulse began to hike. 

Thin papers with messy scrawl were passed around. Eight girls in total were present around scattered petals that gleamed a color unknown to her. And eight goblets of burgundy wine were handed out next. 

“All of you are girls that have shown interest in men, disdain for the unjust rules thrusted upon women in our situations. Women in this world in general. I found an old book, which appears ancient and during my time studying it, I have found a ritual that when done correctly, will bring you to your true love during your lifetime. That someone is meant for us all but there is no guarantee to meet them.” The blonde said in a serious tone, a fire behind her words that had Sabine hanging on to each one. 

“How.. Will we know? If we meet them.” A Sister asked. 

“It says- you just know. That it’s like your world changes, that you don’t think you’ll be able to survive without the person, that it’s more than love, that they compliment you, cherish you, protect you. It may be foolish, may not work, but there should be no downsides to doing the ritual. Harmless to try it right? Especially on the off chance it is real.”

Murmurs sound. Sabine knows she’ll do it. Not a bone in her body willed her to leave. It seemed all the Sisters were in agreement, that the ensuring possibility of meeting your soulmate through a ritual made perfect sense. What was there to lose besides never crossing paths with them? 

Or they all knew it was a form of child’s play. A fun little thing to do as girls who wanted something more than the Sisterhood. Their way of rebelling. 

“Now do what the papers say, we’ll all speak together.”

Sabine bent down to gather the flower petals into one hand, the other holding the directions the older girl wrote out. Her fingers trembled. 

"I cast this circle of flowers round, in calling for a love meant for me, to find me."

She sprinkled the delicate petals in a circle in front of her. She felt chills run down her spine, a disheveling cold gust she swore was her imagination. 

"Forever will my true love bind.”

Next each girl drank their goblet of stale communion wine, the raunchy taste making Sabine shudder. Was it stupid to feel anew? A fluttering in her chest as her extremities tingle in and out of numbness. The tips of her fingers down to her toes, up to her head tickled in a glittering daze and immobilization while she stood stuck staring at the circle she made. 

At sixteen she didn’t have the capabilities of forethought or critical thinking beyond that of her generalized life experience. How foolish to smile like an idiot as she made sure every drop of the wine was drained. The girls were all too giddy. Definitely too loud with their giggles and conversations that would have normally had a matriarch descending on them like a hawk. But feet below the surface in a desolate room of an abandoned wing, they were undisturbed to gossip through the night. 

-

PRESENT

"Father, please help Zoro through this storm. Provide him the strength and courage to conquer this obstacle. I put my trust and submit my ways unto you to seek help for his battle. Amen." Sabine's mouth was dry as she spoke, hardly above a whisper. Tears stung her bloodshot eyes as a faint throbbing numbed her face. 

Seeing him like that— all clammy, skin as if he'd see a ghost. Bandages peeking from his shirt where a pink tinge of dried blood stained as a reminder of what'd taken place. Sabine, in such a short amount of time, had grown fond- protective in her own way- over the crew. All younger than her, so she perceived them as her dear kids in a sense.

"Why do you feel so bad?" Nami whispered, a cold tone masked behind the question, "I went to leave, to leave the crew. And you feel guilty because you'd been flirting with that Warlord?" The redhead frowned, seemingly answering her own thoughts in her mind as her eyes widened, "Oh- cause you haven't experienced-"

Sabine held her hand up, signaling for Nami to stop, "I think I'd surprise you. It's not necessarily guilt, I don't quite know what it is really. Responsibility maybe? Or the fact I've spent hours listening to those who want to be saved, and act like I'm some saint? Maybe this is all I can do to offer help."

"I think I'd surprise you too." Nami shuffled in place. 

"I don't think you would. I can tell from your far away gazes and survival skills. I know you're hiding something." Normally Sabine wouldn't talk out of turn like she just did. Taught to always nod in understanding, listen intently while carefully thinking through a response. Taught to never interrogate but gently lead in the direction they point. 

"What are you profiling me? I'm not some drunkard, abusive marine stumbling into a church to repent."

"I never said that," Nami was right with her implications, Sabine needn't play her role as a nun with them. And she wasn't with her harsher than normal words as this was what she felt was a final chance to intervene. Nami was bubbling up, "Maybe hiding wasn't the best word to use. I know from experience when there's more to a story. I'm not judging, nor am I asking you to share. But we're all supposed to be a crew, yeah?" 

If Sabine could see Nami's face from where she stood with her back turned, grand line map in hand, Sabine would see the troubled tears in her friend's lash line. And she'd see how Nami's moment of pain fell to a blank stare, determination suddenly dancing in her eyes. 

Sabine frowned as Nami left, her footsteps echoing as they sounded further and further away. She let out a heavy sigh, chest deflating as her shoulders slouched. Guilt about how harsh she'd been, but nevertheless she wanted to speak her mind. 

Her legs screamed from soreness as she stood, carefully moving closer to Zoro's sleeping form. Standing over him, she let her fingertips graze over his clammy skin. She wiped the sweat from his brow-line with her thumb, reaching for a cold moist towel that rested on his left bicep. 

"Oh Zoro," Sabine whispered, "You kids are just too much to handle sometimes I swear." Not that she was much older than them, almost five years she thinks. A smile cracked on her lips about how Usopp never failed to mention her elderly age. 

The reality of it all wasn't that Sabine nor Nami were inherently evil due to pieces of themselves they kept hidden. It only further justified how complicated life is— how complicated people are. 

Sudden commotion, beyond what Sabine was told to expect, made her hesitantly leave Zoro and head to the Going Merry's deck. Her heart palpitated in her chest with each slow step, hand gliding along the walls for any sort of balance. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears as the banging intensified like muddled water swirling. Crouching down, looking over the bannister, her stomach sank. 

Hand clamped over her mouth to silence herself, 

"No!" She still managed to stifle out watching Arlong toss Luffy into the sea. Quick relief washed over her as Sanji jumped into the sea to go after him immediately. Splashes of torrent aqua blue. Technicolor drowning within her chest like trying to scream underwater. But curiosity shimmered in Sabine's eyes as she watched Nami leave with the fishmen.

But as much as Sabine wanted to be shocked or angry like others of the crew— she wasn't. A level of understanding grew in her chest as the minutes went on allowing her time to think. Little growing vines crept into her head as she recalled Nami's words and body language alike. Arlong would have torn the ship apart to find the map- would have torn Sabine and a recovering Zoro to pieces after taking down Luffy, she was sure. So Sabine stayed quiet even as Zoro woke and the others shared their uncertain opinions— she knew Nami did it to protect them. That she'd been right to assume the younger girl was nursing a secret. A searing sensation made her gasp, as her legs gave out, causing her to go down onto the ship’s deck. She clawed at her chest, at the clothes that adorned her and covered the necklace hidden beneath. 

On the dainty chain was the ring. Mihawk’s ring. Why it felt as if it burned her skin she did not know. The suffocating sea air swirling into her nostrils and intoxicating her mind with its musk and scents from the restaurant. 

It was a gorgeous piece. Sabine could not tear her gaze from it as she studied it. Too large for any of her fingers. Eclectic yet manly, clearly worth more berry than her life would ever be. Truly, it was a piece of him. She could recount the deep vibrations of his voice settled within her core, how his calloused fingers bruised along her skin. And how his lips were on her forehead. She could feel it. Feel his intense aura that warmed her insides like it was wrapping her in an all encompassing, protective blanket, to keep the outside world from laying a finger on her. 

Terror instilled itself, this wasn’t supposed to be happening to her! Close encounters with death. Pirates. Life itself! She should have stayed locked up in her isolated palace that was the monastery. 

But then Sabine realized something. That the terror she felt was from her thoughts. Thoughts that leaving her Sisterhood was the path she needed to take. And that was terrifying, the thought of giving up what was comfortable. All this time sailing with the crew and she wasn’t any closer to coming to a decision, not until meeting Mihawk. 

-

posted: july 12 2024

taglist : @zzbloody-animezz @honeybeezgobzzzzz @mythical-goth @iraaiitz @moonmaiden1996

[ynbabe]

Lestappen- an essay

Charles-

He's horribly devoted to the one thing that's killing him- like a smoker unable to let go of the bitter smoke, he is incapable of leaving the red church, who made him their captured saint, their martyr, on a cross made of his own faith.

He claws and cries his way through his hurdles and the only blood on his hands is his own. He is forced to be the predestined- their saviour, yet he receives no mercy from them, no cushion fall, no medicine for his pain.

He may be forging his own path but it's with a sword of legacy and he's doomed to be the blade if he doesn't change destiny soon.

He is all alone in a temple made for him, he is the angel and he is the sacrifice. He should probably run, run far away and never look back, like many before him, but he can't, he's promised his soul after all.

Max-

People always assume he runs after the highest place on the podium out of hunger, a perverse desire to always win and be on top. How could they ever stop and think an animal like him would want anything other than victory?

He bites and punches his way forward because there is no past to go back to, nothing but pain and misery. There is no salvation in victory but there is survival, there is protection.

So he runs, runs faster than ever even if he is safe because the past still haunts him and his present does not exist, after all, everyone wants to be on top.

No legacy is too destined for him to break, no record too sacred. He's alone in a prison of his own making, breaking his arms through the bars to be held by those who love him but he doesn't feel the warmth. After all a man can only be burned so many times till his skin is nothing but scars and leather.

Lestappen-

Perhaps this is why they are perfect together. One who can't run and the other who can't stop. An unstoppable force against an unmoving object. None stable, ready to burst, ready to rip and tear.

One the damned glory of a corrupt, decaying history and the other a blessed heathen of an unconventional, powerful conglomerate.

Maybe Max could grab onto Charles, with his tainted nails, dig them deep and draw his blood so that he could once again feel the warmth.

Maybe Charles could let his teeth skin into Max's soul, sharp and pearly white, against the bitter cold thing and let it cool his wounds.

Maybe they could drag each other to salvation.

[greenthena]

The Eldritch Ball or Aziraphale's Macabre Danse

I'm a huge sucker for dark classical music (I'm using the term "classical" broadly, not referring to the specific period. Music-y folks, please forgive.) As such, Saint-Saëns's "Danse Macabre" is one of my all time favorite pieces. It's spooky. It's intentionally dissonant. It's even got a jump scare! Like, literally, the perfect piece of music.

The story behind "Danse Macabre" goes like this: Each Halloween at midnight, Death enters the graveyard with a fiddle. As he plays, the skeletons rise from the ground and dance through the cemetery, resurrected by Death's power and possessed by his instrument.

In S2 E3, the Bentley plays "Danse Macabre" as Aziraphale drives up to Edinburgh. "What do we do? We play classical music that stays classical music." (And the Bentley listens to him! Because the Bentley is an expression of Crowley's subconscious and wants to please him and make him happy...and I'm sure you can find lots of excellent metas to that end. Or maybe you have another theory about why the Bentley is so pliant toward the angel? I'd love to hear it. But that's not what I'm talking about right now. I'm just getting distracted.)

Why is this song so perfect for a bit of subtle foreshadowing and repeated metaphor? So glad you asked. I have reasons. And evidence. Please, peruse my wares.

In the A Plot of this episode, Aziraphale travels to Scotland to visit a pub called The Resurrectionist. (Ya know, like Death? Like how Death resurrects people in the song? Okay, just wanted to really hit that nail into the coffin.) The pub is, of course, named for a certain Mr. (not Dr., he's a surgeon) Dalrymple, whom Crowley and Aziraphale meet in the accompanying flashback minisode entitled (you'll never guess) "The Resurrectionist." The minisode plot involves Crowley and his the angel encountering young Elspeth, a grave robber who, like Death, releases the bodies of the deceased from their earthly bonds of soil and stone. My interpretation is that Elspeth becomes Death incarnate, first in the process of using her instrument (her shovel) to resurrect the dead, and later when she inadvertently brings about the literal death of her partner, Wee Morag. Rather than allow Wee Morag's body to turn to dust in the ground, Elspeth "resurrects" her, selling her body to Dr. Dalrymple (sorry, Mr. Dalrymple, he's a surgeon, not a doctor), who will use Wee Morag's body for research, which will in turn save the lives of countless others by furthering the field of medicine. A form of resurrection, indeed. There's also the plot thread of Crowley and Aziraphale providing Elspeth with a nest egg to escape the cycle of poverty into which she has been born. This, too, is another form of re-birth. Or, say it with me, resurrection. Alright, you're getting it now.

Okay, now I get to delve into the fun stuff. Let's talk about that cotillion ball, shall we? You know, that danse party where Aziraphale persuades all the shopkeepers on Whickber street to attend a Jane Austen-style ball?

I personally refer to this whole fiasco experience as the Eldritch Ball. On the surface, it seems fairly innocent. The shopkeepers need a little bit of encouragement to attend the Whickber Street monthly meeting, but the angel manages to convince everyone to join with the help of some coercion-via-bribery. When they show up, they're transmuted into Austen-esque characters, from their clothes, to their speech patterns, even to some extent, their perception of reality. This is where it starts to get a little uncomfortable if you peel back the layers. Mrs. Sandwich can't talk about what she does for a living, which is a great comedy bit, but also demonstrates that her speech is being significantly censored and altered by an outside force. With the exception of Mr. Brown (hidden agendas here, Neil? I honestly don't know), all the shopkeepers find themselves in new, slightly-period-appropriate garments. What's really weird, though, is that no one notices the changes. When the dancing begins, to the music of Mr. Anderson's piano and an accompanying string quartet (strings...as in violins...as in fiddles. Remember Death's fiddle?), Nina appears to be the only one who realizes that something is off.

Maggie: This is something new.

Nina: This is something completely bonkers. Are we...? Why is everyone talking like they've escaped from Pride and Prejudice?

Maggie: Just getting into the spirit of things, I suppose.

Nina: The spirit of what things? This is meant to be the shopkeeper association monthly meeting.

Maggie: Hmm. Yes. Now that you put it like that...

Nina: Are we dancing?

Maggie: Yes.

Nina: Did you ever learn the steps to this dance?

Maggie: It's just what we do, isn't it?

Nina: No. No, it isn't. This is something mad. This is their [Crowley & Azirapahle's] fault. They're doing this.

Something is definitely mad. One might even say it's macabre. Aziraphale has become Death the Resurrectionist. He has lured the shopkeepers of Whickber Street through a portal (as Death leads his flock from the world of the dead to the world of the living.) Aziraphale's instrument is his clipboard and pen, held almost as one might hold a fiddle and bow, as he invites the various shopkeepers to the monthly meeting. Once they all arrive, he miraculously gives them new clothes (as Death knits together the bones of the dead), and then proceeds to control their bodies and minds, as though they are merely marionettes. They dance and speak in the way Aziraphale imagines, fulfilling his fantasy of a perfect Jane Austen-style ball (quite literally, the Danse Macabre.)

The shopkeepers have become the dead and Aziraphale controls them until the spell is broken--or rather until the window is broken.

To be honest, I don't think Aziraphale is really aware of how much he is able to transfigure his environment, including the humans who happen to be close by. Or, at least, I don't believe he does any of this with ill intent. He's just a bit blind to anything outside his fixation of wooing Crowley, at the moment. As a result, he creates a situation that is profoundly problematic and unnatural. Just like the dead in the graveyard have no agency when Death plays his fiddle, the Whickber Street shopkeepers are possessed by Aziraphale's intricate romantic fantasy and must dance as long as the music plays.

It is, in fact, only when the music stops, that the shopkeepers begin to realize that something is most certainly weird. The diagetic music (Mr. Anderson & Co.) abruptly cuts off when an approaching demon horde tosses a brick through the bookshop window. Now the spell, or in this case, miracle, begins to break down. While the shopkeepers still appear to be somewhat under the influence of Aziraphale's persuasive aura, a few of them glance down at their clothes in confusion and look around the bookshop, as though waking from a dream. And at this point, after a little finagling, Crowley escorts the humans out of the bookshop and out of Aziraphale's Danse Macabre.

Once the demons attack the bookshop Aziraphale's influence on his surroundings really starts to deteriorate. Throughout the season, he's been able to structure and manipulate reality (sometimes with Crowley's help) to suit his needs: protecting Gabriel, altering the Bentley, organizing the Ball, etc. But once the bookshop, his safe space, has been breached, he loses control of the situation. From this point in the narrative, nothing goes according to Aziraphale's plan. Aziraphale wants to protect Jimbriel, but the former archangel insists on giving himself over to the demons. Crowley leaves and Aziraphale has to defend the bookshop on his own, when he'd expected Crowley to come right back and save him. While defending the bookshop, Aziraphale reaches his "last" resort not once, but twice: first allowing Nina and Maggie to use his books (!!!) as weapons and then blowing up his halo in a last ditch effort to fend off the invaders. This was not on the agenda for today!

Things just continue to go downhill from there, Aziraphale losing all control of the situation. And by the time the Final Fifteen wraps up, the angel has lost his bookshop and possibly his most important relationship. By the end of the season, Aziraphale is no longer Death the Resurrectionist, the manipulator and puppeteer. Now the angel has become the puppet, dancing to Heaven's music.

[alacetor-the-duckies-deer]

Been thinking about this post I made earlier, and

The problem with the hotel is that Charlie went too big too fast with the goal. Unfortunately Katie Killjoy was RIGHT when she asked why anyone would care about becoming a better person, when you consider that it means going up to heaven to be with the very people that put them in hell in the first place (as far as they know), and who (definitely) then come down to massacre them once a year anyway.

But if you think of the pride ring specifically, rather than all of hell, as a jail of sorts for sinners, then, maybe they'd want to explore the rest of hell if they could.

And if Charlie got with her father and the other sins, and got approval for like, passports of sort, that give sinners who prove they could behave in the rest of hell- where people live who aren't saints but can still be good people and who ARE more often than not weaker that Sinners- permission to travel, I BET plenty of sinners would have at least wanted to TRY the hotel.

The hotel could function more as a voluntary recovery resedance for them. Like if Angel had been promised the opportunity to visit the Lust Ring, I bet he'd have committed a little more serious the cause sooner.

And it wouldn't even have to be an all or nothing thing. Each sin could have different requirements for allowing sinner into their territory. Ozzie would probably never allow people with sexual assaults on their record, for instance. And Mammon would probably allow pretty much anyone, wanting anyone who could pay to see his shows.

But it's still not a perfect solution unless the genocides stop.

Because it just leads to questions.

Do they tell heaven they're letting sinners got to other rings?

If they do, they run the risk of Heaven, specifically Adam, not agreeing to only hunt the unrepentant/unredeemed in the Pride Ring, and simply expanding the genocide, the violence, into the other rings, and the other sins might refuse the system soley based on that.

And if they don't tell them? That's not going to stay a secret long. Even if it take a decideds for enough sinners to have earned their passport to even one other ring, all the sinners that can, are going to bale on the Pride Ring during the genocide.

At first the angels might think they're successfully keeping Hell's population down, but eventually they're going to get suspicious, because whether they've been doing this since the dawn of time or only since the human population, and therefore Hell's population, boomed in the last century or so, for it to suddenly be working this well???

And all they have to do is capture some sinner during an extermination, and torture the answers out of them.

And then it's like.

Do they see that as Lucifer trying to get out of his side of the bargen? Do they say fine we won't uphold our end?

The fact Adam and them go after Charlie in the season finale shows there's no magical contract PREVENTING them from killing Hellborns. So what if they start giing after Hellborns too, since they're traveling rings now too?

Soooo maybe I've talked myself in circles.

Even though I dont THINK Charlie has though about all of this, it's still stands that she does have to go that big with the hotel. She has to get them out of hell as things stand now, because if there are genocides, nowhere and no one in hell is garenteed safety.

Now, in a post canon world where they get the extermination to end, I think this would actually be a good system.

Most sinners are actually in hell for a reason, and if they want to just keep indulging in that behavior, fine. Pride Ring Prison.

But leaving a voluntary out program readily available to them, where they can rehabilite themselves as much as they want-wether it be to Aesmodeos or Mannon's or Beelzebub's, or even Heaven itself's standards? Yeah, I think that would work really well to insintives people to change.

[thoseyoulove]

Reacting to The Vampire Lestat - Part V (with a bit of spoilers and maybe important quotes?)

Armand!

YAY!

Okay, what the hell is happening?

??????

Seriously, WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?

Am I lost because I'm reading the Brazilian Portuguese version and maybe it's not properly translated?

*Downloads an English PDF copy* Yeah, this isn't much better and it looks like it was poorly transcript.

I'm still not sure I'm following...

Well

Whatever

I still like this anyway?

Also, I can see I'll have to read at least this book twice anyway. Maybe more or even the whole chronicles.

Because since Armand showed up I'm DEVOURING this and I can see myself maybe missing a few details... I'll need to read it slower and savor it in the future. I also assume that knowing more of the lore will give me perspective on a future read.

Armand is never boring.

Still my favorite character. :) Let's hope nothing ever ruins that. :) /hj

Not one Lesmand/Armandstat interaction is wasted tbh, I don't care if they're vibing or hating each other's guts, they're always A MOMENT™.

Let's hope nothing ever ruins that. :) /hj

They also have some pretty valid and intriguing conversations, really.

The impression I get is that they want to stay close, but deep down know it's better not to because they're so messed-up and would be even more messed-up as friends or else (and maybe it's the or at least one of the reasons why they attract each other?), but there's some frustration in that acknowledgement too. Like, doing something because you should is not the same as doing it because you want to and... Well.

I mean, there's more I could say, but this is the short version of how I generally feel about them lol.

Can't wait to see all of this on season 3.

Assad is right, I want Armand to be unhinged too. So glad we're on the same page about all thigs Armand ever and that the spirit of Armand posses Assad on a daily basis so he can play him 100% the way I imagine him. SMILING THROUGH IT ALL, CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS MY LIFE RN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm also ready for more Lestat (Armand's version) and finally some Armand (Lestat's version). Let the battle begin. I wonder who will be more insufferable.

Little bit of Armand's back story. :/ I wanna put him in a bubble.

I don't really think I'll be interested in Marius, tbh.

Anyway... He's not here yet.

Gabrielle jumps from roofs like Cat Woman and Armand quickly and silently vanishes from places like Batman. I hope we keep the Gotham-esque vibes of these scenes. I think it's super cool tbh.

I also love seeing Armand talking to people telepathically? Feels so much deeper and kind of poetic, idk. Not to mention is such a cool concept. I hope the show explores more of that.

Also, when he stops blocking his thoughts and let's someone peek at his thoughts it feels intimate? And not necessarily romantic or anything like that, but just like, "hey, this is a little piece of my soul, I'm sharing it with you". Or maybe I'm too romantic and trying to find the beauty in everything lol.

But then he finally speaks out loud and it feels deeper and more meaningful as well? I don't know. Maybe I'm becoming insane.

Lestat went like 3 pages without mentioning Armand's beauty. I'm proud of him.

Nevermind, now he is mentioning it 50 times per sentence. Even more than he did before. It's like he regretted it and it's making up for lost time lmao.

Some of the words Lestat has used to describe Armand so far: beautiful, sublime, ethereal, exquisite, perfect, soft, saint, angel (there's more, but it's been so many synonyms for beautiful I can't remember... still, you get the point). Not to mention comparing him to a Caravaggio and Da Vinci paintings.

I feel like he'll run out of words to describe him pretty soon.

I guess we all feel pretty (not) normal about Armand.

This is also ruining it for me, because if someone doesn't describe me as "irresistibly beautiful" then what is even the point, really...

And it's not like they're a couple or anything, SO??? STOP!!!

They're not lovers, they're not friends, they're not enemies, they're a fourth and more sinister thing that not even them can classify, let alone my mere mortal self.

Anyway, I hope Lestat will be even more annoying describing Louis. He set the bar too high now.

I wonder if Louis appears (for a significant amount of time) on this book.

I hope so, but I don't know.

"But I was so glad it was finished. So glad that we could go on. Yet I held to the bars for a long time just looking at the distant woods, and the dim glow far beyond that the city made upon the lowering clouds. And the grief I felt was not only for the loss of him, it was for Nicki, and for Paris, and for myself." This is sad...

"So let him be your patron saint if you need it" LMFAOOOOOO.

Is Gabrielle wrong, though?

NO, SHE ISN'T!

Just have fun with your immortality instead of going on an uncertain quest to find Marius? Stop being stupid???

You'll probably just find danger or disappointment. Or both.

LISTEN TO THE VOICE OF REASON, LESTAT!

"And the sense of grief came back to me, the realization that we were really going, that it was finished with Nicolas and finished with the Children of Darkness and their leader, and I wouldn't see Paris again, or anything familiar to me, for years and years. And for all my desire to be free, I wanted to weep." So, he finally starts making a life for himself away from his abusive family. Then, he is forcefully turned into a vampire, has to live this double life with mortals, without ever being able to be completely open, honest and have real, deep relationships with them. Later, he turns Gabrielle, Nicki, meets Armand and the other of his kind, but they're all so troubled or with completely different interests... And it's clear as a day that they can't stay together anymore, he's slowly coming to the realization he's losing everything and everyone he knows and will soon be alone again... I'm (not) fine.

Also, this is so BPD-coded of him. He's had these pretty sad and traumatic moments, but he never allowed himself to feel those emotions for too long, he always found stuff to distract himself with, tried to see the "the good side" of things, embrace them, be positive instead etc, but you can only ignore it so much until it becomes such a big problem you can't possibly avoid anymore. And then the emotion hits 9483958345x harder than it would have if you processed things properly and had better coping mechanisms. Like, I get him, but OMG. Get him some vampire therapist.

Btw, Armand feels pretty BPD-coded too.

I also heard somewhere that Armand is a Scorpio?

And Lestat is another BPD Scorpio...

That would explain A LOT actually lmao.

End of "The Vampire Armand" chapter and they're parting ways.

So I guess I'll just rot and die, then?

Or...

...Armand will return in the worst possible way lmao.

I tried to find a gif of 2x05 saying "everything is fine!" to represent how I'm feeling right now, but failed, so consider it done anyway. Everything is (not) fine!

[theparacosmologist]

in the aftermath of the daisy Jones finale I've seen a lot of posts where people are complaining that billy has changed from a character you root for in the book to a character you don't in the show, and I have to say I don't agree at all.

when I read the book I didn't empathise with Billy all too much, and felt that he was the most unreliable narrator when it came to his depiction of himself. supposedly, in the book, he stays completely clean after his initial time in rehab, and never cheats on Camilla with daisy at all because their relationships is that of 'twin flames' and not at all physical. the show has him relapse instead and kiss daisy multiple times. I actually found that this made him more easy to empathise with because it made him seem more like a real, deeply flawed human being. the idea that relapsing or morally wrong actions makes you 'shallow' or unsympathetic is harmful.people who struggle with addiction are not less than complex human beings because of that struggle, and should be empathized with more, not less. additionally, he and daisy having a more overt physical relationship in the show doesn't at all take away from the twin flames nature of their relationship. I think it enhances their individual weaknesses and failing points. they are at their most self destructive when they're working against one another, and at their best when they're caring for each other. they make each other better, as Karen said. I think the physicality of their relationship just worked to further demonstrate their destructive tendencies. daisy telling billy to go to Camilla was a natural progression in her arc to being a better person, because by caring for billy she is, in turn, beginning to heal herself.

I've also seen an abundance of complaints about the depiction of Camilla in the show, particularly people either stating that she's less sympathetic because we can see her flaws and mistakes now, or that the changes to billy and Daisy's storyline are unfair to her. on the contrary, I found the show was more fair to her because she was allowed to be a person with flaws, and we were able to see ehow hurt she was by what happened. in the book she's an angel, and is completely robbed of agency and a certain degree of complexity because she never gets to speak for herself. her side of the story is told by the people who love her most, the people who, given that she is dead before the interviews in the book begin, look back on her as perfect. choosing to have her tell her own story was one of the best decisions the show made, because it made her a fully formed human being, as opposed to a saint amongst 'sinners'.

all in all I think the show was a masterful adaption of an already great book, and I believe that a lot of the complaints going around are both unwarranted and coming from a place of expectation that an adaption must be a one to one copy of it's source. daisy Jones and the six, the tv show, is a different story to daisy Jones and the six, the book, and that's one of it's greatest strengths.

[snzysimper]

Pollen of Eden

yippee first Hazbin Hotel fic (excluding that really old one I wrote when I was like 14 😭)

I’m pretty happy with how this turned out. Decided to jump on the bandwagon of writing Ad//am fics. Enjoy.

1089 words

| I am allowed to write what I want and I would appreciate it if you keep whatever rude comments you have to yourself |

The Garden of Eden is the closest to the idea of perfection that is possible, in the mortal realm that is. Adam and his wife Lilith shared the beautiful paradise. Despite being “married”, the two didn’t always enjoy each other's company. However, at the same time, the only company they had was each other. Minus the archangel Saint Lucifer who often came down to chat with Lilith. Something about him left a bad taste in Adam’s mouth. Recently, Lilith had only wanted to be with Lucifer. Adam was a bit jealous to say the least. Who wouldn’t be? You and your partner have a beautiful home to live in together and all they want to do is talk to some goofy angel.

Today was another one of those days where the two had a disagreement and parted ways for a bit. It was always over the littlest things. This particular time it had been about Lilith never wanting to spend any time with him. Adam got fed up and walked a good distance away to be by himself. He found a nice spot in the shade under some trees by a pond. The area surrounding the pond and trees was littered with various flowers. Sitting down, he sighs. He closes his eyes for a bit and only opens them again when he realizes that a duck has made itself comfortable in his lap. “What do you want?” He glared at the duck. Lucifer often spent time rambling on about how much he liked ducks and even gave Lilith her own duckling, which she named Petal. Seeing this duck only reminded him of the two. “You and your little duck friends are always all over the place.” The duck looked back at him, cocking its head and quacking in response. Adam chuckles. “Am I really so desperate for someone to talk to that I’m conversing with a duck?” He gives it a pat on the head.

A gentle breeze blew through the trees and flower field. The duck fluffed his feathers to keep warm. Adam smiled seeing how peaceful and happy it seemed all comfy in his lap. A flower slowly drifted through the air and landed on the ducks back. Picking up the flower, Adam smelt it. He isn’t quite sure what type of flower it is, but it certainly smells nice. Maybe he’ll give it to Lilith as an apology for-

“-’dDSHh-EH!!” His newly found duck friend jerks its head up and looks at him. “Sorry buddy,” he smiles. “Didn’t mean to wake yo..” He paused for a brief moment, tilting his head back slightly. “hEDd’shoo!!” The duck quacks a few times. Whether it be sympathy or annoyance isn’t clear. Nonetheless, it remains on his lap. As the wind continues to blow, pollen from the surrounding trees and flowers drifts through the air. “HDd’tchoo! heEH’d-shEH!!” He rubs his nose, trying to relieve the itchy tickling sensation. He hadn’t been allergic to any of the flowers in the garden before. Maybe this was simply God's way of telling him to stop being jealous. Regardless, he was allergic to the ones currently around him. “ehH-!! hEH!! Heh-!! Ugh.” Yep. This was karma. At least that’s the only explanation he could come up with. His newly found duck friend shakes off some of the pollen that had collected on his feathers. Despite turning to face the other direction and holding his breath, the irritant still makes its way into his system. “hHED-shUH!! hIH heEH-!! Bringing his hand to his face, he holds his nose shut to try and keep from making too much of a disturbance despite being alone (minus the duck). “-ptschh! ‘ktchs!! -dschs!! -tschh!!”

Upon realizing that refusing to let them out was getting him nowhere, he gave up trying to keep quiet. “hED’ch-EHH!! HdD-tcsch!! Eh-t’choo!! I hihh!! ca-ah!!n’t st-stop sne-EH!! hHE’TSCH-UH!!” The force of the last sneeze leaves him with thick snot pouring out from his nose and running down his face. “Eugh”, he grimaces at the thought of what he could possibly look like if someone were to be watching him. A loud gurgling sound is made as he attempts to snort back what he can of the snot back into his nose. Wiping his nose on the back of his hand, he absent mindedly glances down at the grass. It is only then that he notices a red and white corn snake. In a panic, he quickly grabs the duck, stands up and kicks the snake. We don’t recommend doing this under normal circumstances. “Get lost!!” The snake goes flying back in the direction of which it came. Sighing, he checks the area around him for any other snakes before sitting back down.

“Lucifer? Is everything alright? I thought I heard someone shouting.” Lilith wanders through the forest for a bit before finding the red and white corn snake draped over a tree branch like someone's laundry left out to air dry. “Lucifer!”

“I think I may have sssscared him a bit. Oopssss.”

She rushes to take him out of the tree and sets him on the ground. Turning back into an archangel, Lucifer smiles. His hair is a bit messed up but other than that he seems fine. “He is a short way down there. He’s sitting with a duck on his lap.” Lilith smiles. “Thank you, Lucifer.” With a small puff of smoke, the archangel turns into a small dove. Adam is much less likely to be scared that way. Flying alongside Lilith, the two find Adam sitting under the tree. “Adam, dear?” Adam looks up at his wife, smiling. “Hey.” As she sits next to him, he holds out the flower. “I snf wanted to give this to you.” He tucks it into her hair. Lilith giggles. “Thank you Adam.” She kisses him on the cheek. “I thought you’d like it. I know purple is your fa-..heh..hEH-Choo!! eEH’ShOO!! Hed’DCHOO!” He turns away to keep from sneezing on her. Laughing, she wraps him in a hug. “Thank you Adam. I love it.” Adam blushes. “I’m snff glad you li-iIH!!-ke i-IIHT’sSH-Eh!!” Lilith kisses him again, this time on the mouth. “Bless you, love.” The dove lands on Liliths shoulder and she looks at him, nodding. He flies without their field of vision before returning to his angel form and going back to heaven.

God forbid Adam slip up and hurt Lilith. Lucifer now has something he can use against him. But that won’t be necessary. Angels are merciful after all. Right?

[darling-devils-advocate]

Under the Veil of Darkness Au Guide

This post contains spoilers for the fic being written on Ao3! Read with caution. More info and art will be added as it’s developed.

Story

In the 1970’s, Joey Drew, a kind man filled with dreams, dabbled in the occult to bring the brain child of him and Henry to life. Bendy was the first toon to be created. He was perfect in every way. The only problem was that he’d need a place to stay after hours. Sammy decided to volunteer himself to be Bendy’s caregiver.

Since that day, he’s seen a side of Bendy that the toon has shown no one else. Later on, the musician finally confront the toon about it and finally receives confirmation that Bendy is in fact a demon simply playing a character.

Sammy, blinded by awe, makes the mistake of trusting the demon and becomes his unwilling servant. Over time, lots of blood of blood split and ink drank, the Ink Demon corrupts Sammy’s mind, turning him into a blood thirsty fanatic willing to do everything asked of him.

The Ink Demon turns the studio into his playhouse to terrorize all the lovely little souls trapped inside. It truly is a Hell on Earth.

Characters

Sammy Lawrence: 43, 6’1, he/him

Sammy is the living definition of a tourtured artist. As much as he may hide it under thick layers of sarcasm, rudeness and pessimism, he suffers with depression, trust issues and a touch of ocd. Sammy pushes everyone away and keeps to himself as much as he can either by spitting insults or out right telling them to leave him alone.

Despite his prickly exterior, there have been a handful that manage to get to his soft inside. He’ll never let anyone else in.

Joey Drew: 65, 5’9, he/him

Joey’s a jolly old man filled with nothing but kindness and generosity for others. His biggest dream was to bring smiles to as many people as possible through something he created. With the help of his best friend, Henry, he did just that and loves every second of it. Joey believes there's good in everyone and is very forgiving. He's the equivalent to a old golden retriever with lots of money to spare and a few dark secrets kept locked away.

(No ref available yet)

Henry Stein: 64, 5'11, he/him

Henry is a soft soul with the patience of a saint. He's the first to offer words of wisdom and console those who need it. He's very easygoing, preferring to let things roll off his back and enjoy the moment rather than hold grudges or onto the past. Ever since he moved to California with Linda, he became the outdoorsy type and spends most of his time out in nature.

(No ref available yet)

Bendy: ???, 3'5, he/him

This little prankster adores getting up to no good and having all eyes on him. Nothing beats telling lies, pitting people against each other and watching chaos unfold! Bendy is like a mischievous little cat running around just waiting for the perfect moment to bother you and skitter away after the deed has been done. Sometimes, his antics can feel like they're just a tad bit malicious... Keep a spray bottle on hand around him.

Boris the Wolf: ???, 4'5, he/him

Boris is the goodest of boys you could ever ask for. There's not a single bad bone in his furry body, he could never bring himself to hurt a fly. For a wolf, he's more cowardly than he'd like to admit but he tries his hardest to be brave for his friends. Boris doesn't speak as much as the other toons does. He's perfectly happy tagging along with them and playing his clarinet.

Alice Angel: ???, 4'2, she/her

Just like her name, Alice is just as kind as an angel. She's very polite and loves to help others whenever she can. Even with her angel status, even she can't help but get up to no good sometimes. She prides herself on her looks and neatness, unlike a certain imp running around the studio. While she gets along with everyone just fine, Bendy brings out the worst in her sometimes.

A demon and his creations

The Ink Demon (Malice): ???, 7'2 (11'4 as beast), he/it

The true face of the studio's beloved star. Free from having to act like a cartoon, the demon's thirst for blood and violence can finally shine through. Malice thrives on entertainment and gore, stopping at nothing to get what he wants. He has no regard for the emotions of others (aside from Sammy) unless he can use it against them. He's arrogant, selfish and dramatic as all hell.

Everything is a game to him and he is the one in control of it.

The Prophet (aka The Reaper) ???, 7'1, he/it

This creature is the husk of what Sammy used to be, driven mad with the demon's whispers and finally swept into the loving embrace of ink. Due to 'circumstances', the Prophet's frontal and parietal lobes were severely damaged to the point where rebirth could not fully fix it. Because of this along with his fanaticism, he's highly unstable and dangerous to be around, even to his own kind. He's unpredictable and violent.

Parts of who he used to be still linger underneath his new, blessed skin.

The Angel: ???, 5'10, she/it

Bendy hated Alice so he took what she loved most about herself. Faceless and horrific, the Angel resides in the lower floors of the studio guiding innocents deeper into the depths. Despite being remade in the Ink Demon's design, she is the least hostile out of his creations. There is one thing that sets her apart from the rest, she just has to be reminded of it.

Something is familiar about her title, she just doesn't know why.

The Wolf: ???, 4'11 at shoulder, it/its

Boris was never a real wolf. Too cowardly, too sweet, too gentle. Malice corrected him, turning him into a massive, hulking beast of a wolf. Everything that made Boris himself his completely stripped away. Well, aside from the obedience

Relationships

Joey was a married man (at the time) with a kid that picked up Sammy off the street one day and fell in love with him. He'd actively court him and managed to bed him multiple times behind his wife's back. Sammy would sometimes flirt back but he'd never return the affection.

Sammy met Henry through Joey and very, very slowly developed a crush on him. Henry never noticed but Joey did. The musician never made any advances or purposely showed interest in pursuing him, especially since he was married. After Henry Moved, Sam cut himself off from considering romance. Joey never stopped trying to court him even after his divorce.

Henry was stuck in the middle of the mess, not interested in either side. He's perfectly happy with Linda.

With the Ink Demon in the picture, Sammy's fanaticism and reverence turned into love. He's subtle with it and goes only as fast as he's allowed to since he's aware Malice doesn't understand some emotions well and tends to shut himself off or lashes out when it comes to experiencing them.

The Ink Demon himself rejects all feelings love and passes them off as just being possessive over his things. Although there are moments where he allows himself to be tender with Sammy, they are often followed up with hurting him (biting, scratching) to make it seem like he isn't displaying affection. Even a demon like him can deny his feelings for so long.

Both sides come to a boiling point and finally tear into each other. Their dynamic and behavior towards each other doesn't change aside from allowing more affection and nights together.

Depths of the Ink

There are many creatures dwelling in the ink waiting for their next meal, including the ink itself. Something once used to create art is used as a weapon.

Widows are one of the smallest beasts to come from the depths. The queen lays eggs in clutches of 20-30 twice a day, they hatch within minutes of being laid. Each clutch contains a very small number of special eggs containing an infection brewed by the Ink Demon himself. The regular widows are no real threats that can easily be taken care of. The ones carrying the infection are a different story. A single puncturing bite is all it takes to spread it to the host. After infecting someone, it can no longer spread it and it will die within hours of the bite.

Immediately after being bitten, the site will be inflamed and painful. Hours after is when it starts to ooze a deep red, almost black liquid and veins become visible around it. The host will start to feel like they have the beginning of a fever.

After one day has passed, the fever symptoms will become worse with the addition of minor auditory hallucinations and mental fragility. The infection site is becoming necrotic and spreading. Cutting off the effected area will not stop it from spreading, it's fully in the hosts bloodstream.

After the second day has passed, auditory, visual and tactile hallucinations are tearing down the hosts remaining stability. Bodily tissue both around the site and in other places of the body are rotting off, the open wounds ooze a black liquid. Motor skills and communication are still possible but maybe be erratic or incomprehensible. Widows tend to follow the infected, eating their decayed flesh.

On the third and final day, the host is a convulsing mess that is unable to do anything but breathe and look around. The Reaper comes for them, they are ready to be reborn as one of the Ink Demon's creations.

Lost Ones are the result of the infected being reborn. Depending on how much of their body necrosed, the reborn may end up as a Searcher or as a small sacrifice to be offered by fellow Lost Ones. Some retain memories from their past life and dissent against Malice. They are often killed by their own kind or by humans who do not trust them, but most often by the Prophet.

Most are rather docile, watching from their place or spreading the word of the Ink Demon, while others don't take kindly to heretics (humans) wandering the sacred grounds of the studio. Surprisingly, they don't live in a hive mind. Some are devout followers of the Dark Lord while others only fear the power he has, they are free to make their own choices.

The only reason they are allowed to do so is for the sake of the Demon's entertainment.

Lurkers are spiked tentacles hiding in ink drenched surfaces. They are most commonly found in pools or in deep cracks in the walls. While not obvious to the common person, anyone who has dealt with them know to listen for gurgling and hissing. Lurkers attack the first thing that comes within direct range or contact with it, lashing out and wrapping around its prey until it dies from lacerations, drowning or asphyxiation. It'll pull the corpse into its hiding spot and feast on it. The easiest way to safely cross their path is to give it something else to attack.

Many creatures may stalk the unfortunate people locked inside but none is worse than being stalked by the Prophet. He may follow from the shadows, hardly making a sound for hours and his prey would never know. Once he's spotted, he switches from following at a distance to behaving like a weeping angel (only moving when you're not looking) with his axe brandished and ready to spill blood in the name of his lord.

The Well is where all stolen souls are held captive. Deep pools of ink house the Well. Any ink creatures aside from lurkers, the Prophet, the Wolf and the Angel that fall into the well permanently lose whatever part of them broke the surface should they manage to escape. If they fully submerge, their body is torn to shreds and left to rot with the other souls. It's rumored that the whispers heard from the ink are the last thoughts of the person who fell victim. Many are blood curdling screams.

And finally, the ink machine. The start of it all. Until Malice was made, the machine was harmless. He tainted all of the ink flowing through it with his power, rendering it the new birthing pool for his creations. With tainted pipes lacing the entire studio, it allows Malice to bleed his influence into the very surface of the walls, changing it to his liking. The machine resides in the deepest part of the demon's lair where he designs and brings all of his creatures to life. The machine itself isn't needed to bring them to life, it just keeps the ink flowing in a steady supply. Turning it off or destroying it won't do anything but put a target on your back.

˚꒦꒷━━━━━━━☙⛤❧━━━━━━꒷꒦˚

hopefully this is good enough for people to get a grasp for what im going for without outright saying everything. i do plan on making lots more art for this (funny i say this considering how fast i draw things differently from their ref) and developing the world a lot more since this version of the au is still fairly new (v3 babyyy) and finally working on finishing the fic someday. if you have any questions im more than happy to answer them :)

[saphir93]

Adam x Lute “I can’t lose you again”

Chapter two – “I can’t lose you again”

SAINT AUGUSTINE: "Death is nothing..."

Death is nothing. I just switched to the other side: it's like I was hiding in the next room. I'm still me, and you're still you. What we were before for each other we still are. Call me by the name you have always given me, which is familiar to you; speak to me in the same affectionate way you have always used. Don't change your tone of voice, don't look solemn or sad. Continue to laugh at what made us laugh, at those little things that we liked so much when we were together. Pray, smile, think of me! May my name always be the same familiar word as before: pronounce it without the slightest trace of shadow or sadness. Our life retains all the meaning it has always had: it is the same as before, there is a continuity that cannot be broken. Why should I be out of your thoughts and mind, just because I'm out of your sight? I'm not far, I'm on the other side, just around the corner. Reassure yourself, everything is fine. You will find my heart again, you will find its purified tenderness. Dry your tears and don't cry, if you love me: your smile is my peace.

Since Adam returned as fallen in hell, he had always spent his time meditating on his condition as he had to learn to survive and accept those he had always considered only sinners and scum. He didn't know where to go except to the bizarre hotel of that damned whore, the offspring of the one who had ruined the heavenly plans in Eden twice, even if Lucifer kept repeating to him "I didn't ruin you Adam, you know the truth.".

So having taken away everything he had received from the beginning would have been right? In fact, when he was curled up in bed alone he  think only about Lute. So why did he still have to be angry about two bitches that he had never chosen of his own free will? Two women he never love. What would they say in heaven now? How would Lute react? She didn't know anything and who knows how she was. Adam also thought about his ruined appearance, his perfect skin with a bright and tanned color was now paler and greyish, his pointed ears, his sharp black nails and those disturbing eyes with dark sclera, but the worst were those fucking horns on his head in the middle of his hair and god knows how much he wanted to break them away, he wanted them to disappear forever. The clothes were darker, black and red, with signs of inverted crosses and flames drawn like his guitar and then also the teeth, the teeth had two pairs of sharp fangs like a fucking vampire or predator (Snake or feline). And his wings, his wonderful gold and white feathered wings were now all black like those of the fallen angels.

Adam however no longer cared what happened to him, he had swallowed so much shit in that time in hell and put himself in that state that he had ignored any advice as to when the exorcists would return. He remembered that Lute was in charge now. He passed uncovered everywhere in the city while chaos reigned. Adam knew how to deal with his adversaries, he knew them well, he himself had been like them. He had nothing left to lose now, he just wanted to see Lute again even if it would cost him his life. Adam was soon targeted but still fared well in combat. He saw her looking at him in difficulty while he was in flight, she had stopped for a moment. “Lute!” he called. Lute swooped toward him as bloody carnage raged all around her. In a short time she was immediately on top of him, Adam instinctively tried to cover himself in fear “Lute! Wait, stop!” he shouted “It's me! I'm Adam.” In fact, Lute held him tightly in a hug. "Adam." she said, “When I saw you… I… I knew it was you. Those wings, those eyes, that face, clothes, that guitar and then your voice.”. She took off his mask. “Adam, no fallen appearance can hide you from me. You shouted my name, I thought I had lost you forever that time." Adam held her tighter “I waited for you. I missed you, you bitch.” but then more than one exorcists comes forward “Sinners must be eliminated!” Lute “No! You mustn't touch this one. It's an order. I will take care of it." but they shouted “No sinner has the right to remain alive. Everyone must be punished.” they drew spears and swords, but Lute covered Adam by shielding him and standing before him. “No! Don't touch this one.”.

"Betrayal!" some of the exterminators shouted, but as they rushed to strike Adam, Lute cut them off one by one with his sword. There was blood splashing everywhere, arms and heads severed. Lute looked at the others with unprecedented ferocity "Do any of you intend to disobey my orders again?" she saw them stop with dazed and annoyed looks and then fly away through the portal. Adam was shocked and his clothes like Lute's were dirty everywhere with gold blood stains. Lute returned to him all agitated. "Adam? Are you OK?" Adam “Fuck, you really made a big mess dangerous tits. I'm fine...let's say.” and pulled at his dark yellow-stained robe. Lute had tears in his eyes, tears began to roll down his face. Adam smiled looking at her intently “Now you're here.” Lute “They wanted to kill you. Adam…I can't lose you again. I cannot." Adam wanted to say something but Lute pulled him towards him and kissed him intensely.

It was quite long and intense, nothing like what he had had with his previous wives, very poor and not very intense kisses. With Lute the synchronization and intensity were perfect, when they both began to dig deeper with their tongues and only Lute understood his desire to be so intense. When they broke away, Adam was breathing heavily just like Lute was sweating and his heart was beating fast. That time he returned to the hotel taking Lute with him to her room and spending a moment of intense passion having sex. Adam make love with her, it was so sweet, he enjoyed the sex so much as he had never done before with his two wives. When both were collapsed they lovely hugged each other. She held Adam more intensely, Adam felt so good, he felt protected and loved finally. “It's not fair Lute. I always want to be so happy, always and only with you. All I ask. You're so important to me, so dear, shit, I always want to be with you. I…I love you.” Lute “We will find a solution, I promise. I love you too Adam."

The start of a fan serie I'm working on, this is the part two post first officialy season, sinner Adam arc concept. Can find the first part in this link HERE