#wicked saints spoilers

[everyonehasamnesia]

Malachiasz: amasses dark power in abundance through evil

Malachiasz: 👁👄👁

Malachiasz: eats the entire thing yum yum yum dark power

Malachiasz:

👁👁 👁👄👄

👁

👄👁👄

👁

👁 👁

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Fragile - a Malevlent fic (Intermezzo spoilers)

Arthur got low in Larson’s house. He hit bedrock; he admitted, brokenly, that they won.

John didn’t let him drown. Which is ironic, because John was already drowning.

Spoilers for Intermezzo.

AO3

———-

Humans were fragile.

John knew this. He’d known it since before he was ‘John,’ when wicked memories seeped through the torment of loss and damnation.

Arthur was fragile, too.

John did not know this, and this new and acidic knowledge threatened the unset foundation John had built his everything upon. 

#

Your hands, Arthur. You have broken pieces of his eyes under your thumbnails.

Hardly like John hadn’t done things like that  when King, hadn’t done things like that for Kayne, hadn’t torn people apart until he knew them down to the cellular level. It wasn’t that eyeballs were gross, or the violence was too much; it was that Arthur was the one who did it.

Arthur. Who’d stayed so strong through cult and coma. Who’d kept his head in the prison pits, and forgiven John more than any saint could.

Who’d cut his own damn throat to keep the King from winning.

John knew it had been less than a day for Arthur. (It had been… longer, for him.) Less han a day. How could Arthur change so much in less than a day?

“I…” Arthur sounded fucked.

Instinctively, John tried a lever, tried to use that name to prize Arthur from the mud. Imagine what she would think. Faroe wouldn’t want her father to be this. To lose himself in this way.

The lever did not work, and Arthur slumped down, bleeding, and wept. “I’m lost,” he said, and It was a terrible sound. “I’ve lost. I’ve sunk too far.”

Less than a godsdamned day.

No, said John, scrambling in the wake of shock. I know you, my friend. You are in there. You saved me before. (Arthur had, everything he’d done, everything he’d said, had saved John in the Dark World, had kindled his only lingering light and hope. Arthur could not lose. He could not sink. If Arthur did…)

John vowed: I will not let you drown.

Arthur sobbed.

A good sob? A broken one? Don’t be scared. 

“They’ve won, John,”  Arthur wept in a high, unrecognizable voice. “He won. Faust. I… I wanted to kill him. I wanted to fill his blood within my hands. I wanted to feel the crunch of his bones beneath my palms. They won.”

This couldn’t be happening.

No.

No.

Arthur was his light. Arthur was his hope. The source of a purpose in a life so short, the proof they didn’t have to win!

Kayne’s voice might only be in his head, but it rang cruelly true: If he was this wrong about not letting them win, what does that say about his hope for you?

No!

Humans were fragile. Arthur was less fragile than most, but still human, and John...

John knew what to do. 

He was ashamed of it, this innate, easy understanding of manipulation, of control, of (pleasure it had always brought him pleasure as the King) pretty words to make Arthur do what he wanted, to shift Arthur’s sails and steer him from the rocks.

He felt ill. Sick. He shouldn’t do this. Good people did not think like this.

Would it really be “good” to let Arthur wreck on the rocks of himself?

It would not (and John told himself it was for Arthur’s sake and not to shore up his own cracking foundation), and so John made his choice. Followed his instinct, and manipulated. How could they have won? We’re nowhere near finished.

That was the exact right delivery, and it snagged Arthur’s attention like a lure (fish, Arthur, now caught). 

Next, communication the way Arthur thought in his quietest hours: Whose woods these are, I think I know... Because Arthur thought in music and poems. Because Arthur’s sobs slowed as John quoted, pulling the verses from the shared well of their mind. 

My horse must think it queer, to stop without a farmhouse near... Because Arthur might deny that gloriously artistic part of himself (of which John, as King, was keenly aware), but he could not resist the siren-song of rhythm and introspection and beauty, and he’d listen to this when he’d kick all else in the teeth. 

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, but I have promises to keep… and miles to go before I sleep. He would not lose this man today (maybe if the King had used poetry instead of compound fractures, he would have gotten somewhere). And miles to go before I sleep.

It worked. (Of course it worked. It had to work. It was back to the Dark World if this didn’t work.) Arthur, as John knew he would, responded. “I’m sorry, John,” he said, and he finally sounded like Arrhur again. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”

(He’d missed him so much, his changeability, his chosen softness.) I’m sorry, too.

“Why? For what? You…”

For what?

For what he’d done to get back here.

For the lies he’d told.

For the wickedness he’d wrought.

For—

For leaving you for so long. But that was too close to the truth of things Arthur must never know. Now. Let’s leave this place.

“No,” said Arthur (because his stubbornness took no time at all to reassert itself). “We need to help those people. Down in the mines.”

And there he was. The Arthur Lester of John’s imagining. The flawed but willingly good human, the anchor to which John clung, the mortal for whom he’d debased himself, for whom he’d died.

He’d done… so many things to stop being dead. Arthur (canonized in memory, precarious on his pedestal) would never understand.

How could he? Arthur was human. Humans were fragile. And even Arthur had people he would not forgive.

He could never know. It’s a new beginning, Arthur. A clean slate. For both of them.

“No, no. Not a clean slate.”

John’s metaphorical heart clenched. No? I thought that’s what you wanted.

“That was easier than to remember what I’ve learned, what I’ve preached, not only to you but myself… that we can’t escape these things we’ve done,” said Arthur, fragile human, with no idea he was telling John that John was beyond hope.

John had to escape the things he’d done. He had to.

This confirmed it all: If Arthur knew what John had done, he’d never forgive him, and that flickering hope-light in would finally go out.

John couldn’t really reply. Okay.

“But it still is another,” said Arthur, sounding like his soul had shed a thousand pounds. “And I’d rather greet a new day like an old friend—with fondness and appreciation.”

Oh, Arthur. How did that fragile hope always survive? (He could never know.) Okay, Arthur.

“My friend. Let’s leave this place.”

And of course, Uncle’s body was still there, still shaking Arthur with reminders of savagery.  “I… I lost…”

Damn it. You’ve beaten yourself up enough over this, Arthur. It’s fine.

It clearly was not fine. “You’re right,” lied Arthur Lester.

Nope. Misdirection time (and John refused to think how easily the manipulation came). Oh! There’s a corpse in the bed.

And just like that, the detective switch was flipped, and finally, Arthur actually was fine.

It would all be fine.

It had to be fine.

The danger was past. John would never, ever need to tell him what he’d done. Arthur would continue to hope in John. It would be fine.

He couldn’t handle all that horror, anyway, John told himself as they dove into mystery and memory. Arthur was fragile, after all.

[riiverstyyx-blog]

Wednesday Addams x GN!Reader

In which Wednesday saves the day and nearly loses her world.

Warnings: Body horror imagery, Gore, Near-death experiences, Fire-based contents, Unhealthy love related tendencies, SHOW SPOILERS, Hurt/Comfort,

Song: Saint Valentine, Gregory Alan Isakov

Wednesday Addams thrives off of the familiar yet shackling embrace of death.

Her soul lays dormant within its grasp; her mind teeters atop the bridge that rests above its ghost-infested domain - shoelaces always untied.

She tempts it, Death, giving the embodiment vague tastes and glimpses of her very life within its grasp. Breath and bone would intertwine whilst her feet would glide the floor in the choreographed dance with death.

Never before would her mind weasel away from the rotten smell that clings desperately onto her atoms, and never would the prospect of a person burning alive come across as unappealing.

When death occurs in relation to herself, in her words she loathes it- but realistically, she adores it; as long as it doesn’t claim someone who she considers ‘hers’. And you were ‘hers’. Perhaps that’s why her blackheart races and her stomach drops when Crackstones spell ricochets off of herself and encages your body in an eruption of flames before she is given even a moment to process it. She can’t imagine what that would have been like from your perspective. 

Her eyes stare, wide, as she watches the flames lick your body.

Any other time, perhaps she would have been enjoying herself. Briefly she is reminded of her time with the Jericho statue (which she would love to recreate now), before the gut-wrenching screams and wales of the flames finally yanking you into their grasps tear through the air. 

Skin melting, and bones revealing before they too begin to turn to ash. It’s a horrifying thing to witness.

She wants nothing more than to hold you - if she was lucky that would put out the flames, but if she were a smidge luckier, it would simply take her with you.

Her wide, blinking eyes are quick to take note of Crackstones laughter transforming into an angered yell, and she notices Bianca’s panicked expression when her sword impales the dead man walking.

With sweat encapsulating her palm, Wednesday herself follows along and draws his attention herself by staking him through the heart with a wicked expression forming onto her face.

Far to many things were running through her mind for her to notice Bianca speaking to her when his body began to fade. All of her attention was on the now dimming fire she was approaching.

Wednesday should feel some form of - not that she would admit - joy.

Crackstone had been defeated, and Nevermore could be considered ‘safe’ once again, but she doesn’t think that will matter any to her if you aren’t there to enjoy it at her side.

She stumbles toward you with furrowed brows, her eyes not leaving your ash-ridden corpse. 

Falling to her knees at where you lay, her fingers twitch as they glide over you, attempting to find something - anything to grasp upon.

Her expression remains panicked, hands shaking when she realizes there isn’t anything for her to recognize. All that’s left is pieces of your charred corpse and the nauseating residue of your perfume.

Bianca herself is already in tears, but some other part of her heart breaks when she takes note of Wednesday’s own tears leaking down her pale, blood-coated skin.

“Addams-” Bianca chokes. “Wednesday.”

There is no response. She’s unsure if she can’t here her, or is choosing not too.

“Wednesday, can you hear me?”

Bianca knows to try and stay calm. One of them has too.

Her blue eyes flicker toward your being, widening momentarily. Faint movement comes from the ashes, and Bianca is quick to remove her palm from Wednesday’s shoulder, kneeling to move the ashes aside.

An unfamiliar rage fills Wednesday, but before she can speak, a bright golden glow is pulled from the ashes, forcing Wednesday to cover her eyes and lean back.

Heat surrounds her, and slowly, almost tentatively, she lowers her hands and glances around, only to look back at you.

Where your corpse once lay is a bird of fire - a phoenix, and it’s staring at her with those familiar eyes.

No words can escape Wednesday as she watches a tear fall from the creature before its body begins to glow, transforming into a smoke-based mist that begins to surround your ashes.

Weaving in and out of the destroyed body, the golden glow begins to piece you back together.

In some unexplainable way - some completely unfathomable way, you are being reformed. Your nickname of “Frankenstein” fits far more now that you, well, have died, rather than being a monstrous creation of your parents. (Perhaps that is a story she will have to ask about once more.)

Wednesday doesn’t blink until your body looks as it once was, well, despite the strong scent of blood and burnt flesh.

There’s a sense of fear in her when she does blink. What if you disappear? What if you aren’t actually there when she opens her eyes and she has to inform Enid of your traumatizing passing? What if she has to tell her mother and father a tale of of the love she had, and lost?

She is lucky, this is something she is now confident in, because when her eyes open once more, you’re still there, but now your eyes are wide, glowing an inhuman gold and locked onto nothing but Wednesday herself.

Wednesday Addams nearly feels pure terror when your confusion turns into a soft, yet playful grin. “Are you alright, Addams? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She should have hit you, perhaps gutted you alive, but she couldn’t.

“Amore Mio,” she mutters, taking your hand into her own and gently placing her lips upon your knuckles. “You are terrifying.”

Your eyes soften, placing your palm onto her cheek to gain her attention.

“But you like terrifying, yes?”

“Yes. I adore terrifying.”

[waitingtobebroken]

Finally, the coffee shop AU I keep talking about is here! Spoiler alert, Crowley really is awful to customers in this one (I love it!)

There is a terribly rude barista that makes amazing coffee and a saint of a barista, whose coffee tastes vile. And they are in love.

[morningstarwrites]

Idk if anyone has asked, but why Of Saints and Sinners? How'd you come up with the title? What was the inspiration? (Spoilers? Unless im dumb and just missed it. Woops.) And are you currently reading anything? Or something else has your interest?

Apologies in advance for the long answer!! See under the cut:

I've sort of been sprinkling it throughout, but I've been dealing with concepts of a good person vs a bad person: how Lucifer can't put Alastor in a simple box of pure evil, Alastor grappling over why Lucifer even wants to be friends with him when he's clearly wicked. Alastor insecure about how an angel wouldn't want to waste his time on a demon like him; Lucifer getting over his hatred of sinners and learning that there's layers to people.

Are they still worth knowing if they're bad? And what constitutes 'bad', when people can't be objective?

And of course the literal meaning, the sinner (Alastor) and the saintly/angel (Lucifer), but I'm a big fan of alliteration so I did Saints/Sinners as a compare/contrast. But it's very much "analyze the story to parse out the themes and relate it to the title" LOL

This may sound strange, but I haven't read any other radioapple fics 🫣 I kind of got sucked into them by 1) the show 2) seeing a lot of pretty fanart and 3) funny fan-made comics.

But I have been reading "We Learn Nothing" by Tim Kreider, he's an essayist and a writer for the New York Times!

[ecliip]

SLUGCAT REDESIGNS YIPPEE

hello rain world community please click for higher quality (downpour spoilers btw)

also lots of design rambling underneath the cut. warning its very long and all over the place

-OKAYOKAY so you may notice that Survivor, Monk, and Gourmand all have similar markings- darker back patch, light tummy, tipped ears/stalks- this is because Gourmand is their grandpa in my interpretation!! they share traits because famly..

-neither Survivor nor Monk are fully grown, though Survivor is almost an adult. theyre the slugcat equivalent of teenagers. thats why theyre a little shorter than everyone else. however Enot and Rivulet are fully grown, Rivulet is just built for a different environment and Enots a fucked up inversion of Survivor

-Hunter, of course, gots the rots. i dont know why nobody utilizes Hunters scarred eye in HLL designs tbh- because the scar and the closed eye together make an X shape. and you know what else has an X shape? rot cyst. food for your thoughts :)

-the feds don't want you to know this but you can make any slugcat of your choice as fat and round as you want and nobody can stop you because they are your slugcat designs. anyways chubby arti :) and chubby nightcat :) and plump monk :)

-Nightcat has little silver splotches because I SAID SO. the silver bits by their eyes were actually inspired by Moonwatcher from Wings of Fire with those silver teardrop scales by her eyes, i always thought that was cool. my WoF phase haunts me to this day,,, also Nightcats ears point sideways because its cute

-okay you're probably wondering what the FUCK is up with Enot. the answer: who knows??? i made them La Creatura. theyre a little freak of nature who shouldnt exist but they glitched into existence or something and they have four ears and four hands and six eyes as a result

-Gourm... im love Gourm... theyre the second tallest slugcat, Spearmaster takes first place as resident stickbug

-okay so! if you may notice, pre-canon event Arti and current Arti have some differences. previous Arti has some little scars, and a darker end to their tail. current Arti has burns that cover those. thats intentional! i like to think that when the incident happened, the anger and grief took them over, erasing all personhood in the eyes of both the scavs and theirself in favor of carnage and fury and destruction. the burns represent that. the signs of a life well lived, that little dot of personhood? gone, replaced only by rage and hurting and memories of a tragic incident. (dont worry Arti fans in my little au they arent sad and enraged forever, they do heal. eventually.)

-more design notes about Arti but their right leg is burnt and hurts to put too much pressure on, so they prefer exploding if they have a long distance to cover or somewhere to reach. also, i gave Arti a tailtip that resembles a wick that was a result of the burn scars, thank you @pansear-doodles for bein cool about people takin inspiration from your amazing designs!!

-Spearmaster is comically tall and i love that. they also have Suns's logo on the back of their head. its like a watermark! Hunter doesn't have a watermark because in my interpretation, the rot stuff was intentional, added by NSH as a ticking time bomb as a sort of motivation for Hunter, so like why bother claiming a slugcat thats gonna either ascend or experience a fate worse than death

-also the pearl experience left a permanent scar for Spears because why not

-Rivulet.. the funny fishie.... i made almost zero changes to my orevious design of them because it is perfect. just added like some extra gills. theye very short and have little ears because little ears probably help with swimming and stuff to be like aerodynamic. they also have those little flaps on their side like nudibranches!! lil reference to sea slugs :)

-Saint takes inspiration from lynxes (ears) and sea bunnies (the spots!!). Saint is also the oldest slugcat here. i made their forehead dots eyes because that is COOL !!!! i love extra eyes. also chest floof :)

-Survivor and Monks parents had to take care of THREE pups ON THEIR OWN WITHOUT A COLONY TO SUPPORT THEM and they have zero special abilities to their name unlike Arti or Gourmand. theyre gonna be a little scuffed up

-Arti's pups are a mix between a carnivorous slugcat (Arti) and a regular slugcat (whoever Arti had kids with). the blue pup has a diet like Gourmands, where it can eat meat but it wont get as much out of it as a carnivorous slugcat. the green pup has the typical Slugcat diet.

i'll update this if i think of anything else to add!!!

[riddleredcoats]

tell me about celene and mythal. TELL ME ABOUT CELENE AND MYTHAL! TELL ME ABOUT CELENE AND MYTHAL!!! TELL ME ABOUT CELENE AND MYTHAL!!!!!! TELL ME ABOUT CELENE AND MYTHAL!!!!!

tell me about celene and mythal. please.

please.

I- well, I assume this is about that fantastic Morrigan post that @ammoniteflesh did that I butted in with my ceaseless love about Orlais? I can do that. Settle in, it's a long boi.

Spoilers for The Masked Empire, if you haven't read it (and you should) then this probably won't make much sense. And spoilers for pretty much everything else in DA, tbh.

More under the cut.

The Andraste parallels.

Basically, just copy-paste everything that links Mythal and Andraste in this section. This is a great post/example, though I don't think they are the same, rather just the same story repeating. But TLDR: Betrayal, Heartache, Justice, etc etc etc. I think this is a popular theory I am not going to go much deeper into it.

Celene is compared to Andraste multiple times throughout The Masked Empire. In the play (End-ish of Chapter 5), by Briala (early-ish Chapter 5), and the whole Empress of Fire (both song and the Burning of Halamshiral) debacle. Not only that, but Celene has some genuine thoughts, intentions, and actions about reforming Orlais that are close to what Andraste was doing; they are both trying to reform an imperialist power, granted in different ways (of course) but the parallels aren't meant to be exact.

Fun add-on: Hilarious that Celene basically destroys herself/her image by (in the Fandom, at least, while in Universe is intact for the most part) setting a fire. Because being set on fire was what finally elevated Andraste. It’s still a point for the parallel, just a contrasting parallel rather than a direct one.

Fun add-on, #2: Andraste is described as being a redhead, even in DAI by Cass I think, but is depicted as a white blonde (like Celene in The Masked Empire’s cover or Flemythal's white hair) in multiple paintings throughout Dragon Age. I don’t know what this means, but it’s a fun detail, nonetheless. 

Justice! (But not really)

Both Celene and Mythal are arbiters of Justice, technically.

Celene as empress doles out justice as she wishes (more or less, see Halamshiral), but more specifically she wants to create a more just society for all Orlesians. Yes, of course, there is still that delightful imperialism there, but it just do be like that sometimes. Mythal is described several times as someone who doles out justice, throughout the games by Codex and Solas. She passes judgement, solves conflicts and was ‘the good one’.

Like the story of Elgar’nan and Falon’Din, where she solved it by each having champions and stopping the start of a devastating war. Sorta like Celene solved the Gaspard/Teagan conflict at the beginning of The Masked Empire (end of Chapter 1).

They can both be fair and reasonable but are also known for taking more harsh paths (i.e.; the slums of Halamshiral and the sinner who took divine form and went to Elgar’nan). They both promised to help the elves, yet they both seem to have ditched that idea; Mythal has done arguably very little for centuries, and Celene, while helping, without Briala is less than radical about it.

The Vengeance thing is here too. Celene is, after all, no saint and actively cannot forgive Gaspard for anything he does. Ever. And is definitely on a ‘war path’ by the end of TME. Mythal, similarly seems to be on a warpath forever for ‘a reckoning that will shake the very heavens’, whatever the hell that means. Also, everything Flemythal says in Origins just screams bitterness and vengeance.

Betrayal

Both of these women have been betrayed by those closest to them.

Celene by her court, her champion (The Masked Empire), her nobles (The Masked Empire and Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts), and both of her cousins (Gaspard and Florianne). Also, arguably, Mantillon betrayed her by ‘manipulating’ her into killing her own servants, but that is a whole 'nother bag to untangle. Oh, and Briala of course, by using Celene’s feelings for her and stealing the ruby during a kiss at the end of The Masked Empire.

FleMythal by her daughter (Morrigan), her husband (Elgar’nan, though if you want to include Flemeth’s here it is also applicable, I guess), her sons (if that’s what Dirthamen and Falon’Din really were?), her fellow ‘Gods’. Oh, and Fen’Harel at the end of DAI, too.

Funny is that both Celene and Mythal when it comes to Briala and Solas’ betrayals are fine with it. Celene completely understands Briala by the end of The Masked Empire, as does Mythal at the end of DAI. And they are both betrayed by Solas and Briala in front of Eluvians Which… yeah.

Another parallel; both Briala and Solas say they must do it for ‘The People’, aka, the elves.

The Rebels

Solas and Briala parallel a lot on their own, but their relationships with Mythal and Celene are fascinating too, as is seeing how Solas/Briala view Mythal/Celene.

Obviously, both of these pairs parallel Shartan/Andraste. Actual mention of this is in the play in The Masked Empire for Celene/Briala (Chapter 5 of TME).

Each pair is obviously fond of one another, likely in different ways - but perhaps not.

Interestingly enough if Solas really was in service to Mythal first (like Cole seems to imply in Trespasser) before he rose to ‘Godhood’ then, like Celene/Briala, the relationship likely started privately and then grew into the public like once Briala became Marquise and Solas became Fen’Harel.

If we take what Cole said, ‘He did not want a body. But she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face’, as it really being about Solas/Mythal then we have another interesting parallel between Briala/Solas and Celene/Mythal.

Celene, arguably, makes Briala into what she is by sending her away after having her parents killed. Felassan helped and, of course, Briala herself is the way she is because she is herself, but Celene is the catalyst for her more abrupt change. Briala does not get a scar when she separates herself from Celene; at least not a physical one. Mythal makes Solas into what he is by asking him to come to her.

Interestingly, it is a contrasting parallel – because Celene lets Briala go while Mythal beacons Solas into her service. Which is super interesting, but that is more about the relationship between Briala/Celene than anything else.

The way both Solas/Briala describe Mythal/Celene in-game;

Briala, if you ask about Celene during the peace, but before you go to the servants' quarters, says: ‘Celene is the voice of reason in the empire…’

Solas, in that final Trespasser cutscene: ‘She [Mythal] was a voice of reason, the best of them, and in their lust for power they killed her.”

Granted, Solas is fonder while Briala is a bit harsher in her assessment, but Solas did ‘kill’ Mythal, and whatever wounds Mythal may have caused (which we will get there) have long passed while Celene and Briala’s breakup is more recent. This means very little but i suspect that much like Celene, Mythal also betrayed Solas twice. Once in the times of Arlathan - like Celene killing Briala's parents. And another in recent times - with the burning of Halamshiral. We don't know about it yet, but that's my bet.

Morrigan

Both Mythal (or Flemythal) and Celene have a protective relationship with Morrigan.

Celene is more of a patron and offers financial support and protection. And the protection seems to be mutual (or supposed to be, if Morrigan didn’t bail in WEWH, lmao). Mythal/Flemythal is well, her mother, who is supposed to protect her but who is trying to possess her.

Both of these relationships seem to range from a little contentious (Celene/Morrigan, if you believe the rumours of a palace servant) to very contentious (Flemythal/Morrigan).

Celene seems to not be as intense as Mythal. Morrigan speaks well of her, and Celene does not try to control her like Mythal did, Celene even ‘lets’ her go out into the world – something baby!Morrigan wanted – with her blessing and her protection. I legit find the relationship between them interesting, despite the arguments that apparently took place, lmao. (I also sorta lowkey ship it, but that’s another conversation).

To give the benefit of the doubt; we don’t know how much Mythal was ‘in charge’ of Flemeth (or if they can even act separately) so Morrigan’s abuse might not be Mythal’s fault. But there is no denying that she was abused and that whatever aspect of Mythal, The Mother there was, it absolutely did not act in Morrigan’s favour.

But that is yet another that has nothing to do with Celene/Mythal and all to do with Morrigan.

Symbols matter (or not)

Mythal fought with the Evanuris and the Valmonts fought the Drakons. A bit more *tinfoil* and a lot more thin, but if the Dragon is the divine form like we suspect from Codex Entry in the Temple of Mythal, then the Valmonts having gone to war with the Drakon line could be another interesting parallel. After all, the Drakons are represented by dragons. There is also, technically, the 'full' title of the quest where Celene appears in:

The Old Gods will call to you, From their Ancient Prisons they will sing. Dragons with wicked eyes and wicked hearts, On blacken'd wings does deceit take flight, The First of My children, lost to night. - Canticle of Silence 3:6

Finally, and this is really silly and not really a parallel and most likely it’s just a fun coincidence, but the name Celene, which comes from the root word ‘Selene’, means ‘Moon’, which, of course, Mythal is the Goddess of.

Unimportant sidenote: I am pettily annoyed that most characters pronounce it ce-LI-ne when it should be ce-LE-ne. Because Celine is a legit different name and Celine-Celene have different meanings and root words, but okay I’ll allow it because I do like the pronunciation ‘Celine’ better, lmao.

[mrsreginagold]

Fic: A Funny Thing That I Cannot Explain

Fandom: Nikita

Pairing: Ari Tasarov x Nikita Mears (Nikari)

Rating: R

Spoilers: Canon-divergent AU, would take place sometime during the second season. 

Summary: Nikita discovers that the more time she spends in Ari’s company, the more she wishes for it to never end. 

Author's note: I love them your honor.

On AO3

A Funny Thing That I Cannot Explain

                  Nikita Mears winced when far too bright illumination hit her directly in the face and an evening of incredibly bad choices decided to remind her of its existence.

                  Her head was pounding, and she felt sore all over. Groaning, she clung tightly to the pillow in her arms while burying her head further into the plush fabric. “Kill me.”

                  “Where would the fun be in that?”

                  She shot up abruptly at the sound of a familiar, deep, and incredibly alluring male voice. 

                  Ari Tasarov merely peered over the rims of his reading glasses and lowered the book he was holding a fraction. 

                  Unable to help it, Nikita gaped at the image he made beside her. His dark hair was tousled attractively, and his exquisitely defined torso was on full display since he was shirtless with the bedsheets pooled around his waist. 

                  Her heart thundered as she glanced down, relieved to see that she was covered, but frowning when she realized that it was by one of his dress shirts. 

                  She inhaled shakily before asking, her voice unsteady. “What happened last night?”

                  There was a rustle of fabric and then a feather-light brush of fingers against her arm. “You don’t remember?”

                  She glanced over at him, pulse jumping when she saw him stretching languidly before resting on his side. He propped up on one elbow, so they were face-to face, and brought his hand up for a gentle caress along her cheek, which caused her breath to catch.

                  “The room probably needs to stop spinning before I can,” she admitted with a hard swallow, resisting the urge to reach out and trail her nails through the hair that dusted the broad expanse of his chest.

                  His lips curved into a slightly wicked smile, as if he knew exactly what direction her thoughts had headed. “I suppose I’ll just have to remind you myself.”

                  His proximity and her addled mind made it very difficult to focus.  Ari’s eyes were a stunning mix of blue and gray, framed by eyelashes that could make other women jealous. They were arguably his best feature, though the rest of him was just as appealing. 

                  Not helping matters was the fact that he was observing her so intently, and it was taking every ounce of her self-control to not pounce. 

                  She was seconds away from having a full-blown crisis, tempted to pull him to her and claim that soft-looking mouth in a kiss, but reason demanded that she know the extent of their current intimacy. “Ari, just answer me one question honestly.”

                  “What’s that?”

                  Nikita took a sharp breath. “Did we have sex or not?”

                  “Call me old-fashioned, but it’s definitely not standard practice to make love to someone who is unconscious.”

                  Relief was the primary response she felt to his answer, though it was tinged with some disappointment as well. “I was unconscious?” 

                  “To be fair, you had consumed quite a large portion of alcohol. I didn’t realize cocktails were so dangerous.”

                  With an embarrassed sound, she flopped with minimal grace onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know why you put up with me. I swear you have the patience of a saint…though. Wait a minute,” she furrowed her brow and looked at him. “If nothing happened, why are you naked?”

                  He flipped the bedsheets back to reveal he was wearing pajama pants. “Not completely.”

                  “You didn’t answer the question.”

                  Ari shrugged and got out of bed – running his hands through his hair and smoothing it away from his face. “Maybe I wanted to see how you’d react. Or maybe it was because someone barged into my bedroom, took off most of her clothes, and I needed to cover her up.”

                  “The second part sounds more likely, and more humiliating,” she threw one arm over her eyes, her pretty features flushing considerably. “Could I ask you one more thing?”

                  “Of course,” she heard him rummaging around. 

                  “Help me to the bathroom? I want to freshen up but I’m worried that I’ll get sick if I move too quickly.”

                  He turned back around from where he had been messing with the room’s coffee maker, his expression softening at noticing her distressed one. “Sure.”

                  Ari’s method of helping, apparently, was to bridal carry her into the washroom. 

                  Nikita was torn between mortification and appreciation for this gesture. She found herself leaning towards the latter when he went to get her some fresh clothes. 

                  She took advantage of the privacy while he was out to brush her teeth and then started the shower. 

                  A brief respite in the warm water combined with some medicine for the hang-over was just what was needed to clear her head, and by the time she emerged, she saw that he had placed a new outfit for her on the counter. 

                  She was touched that he had respected her space despite the fact that she wouldn’t have minded if he had joined her. Quickly, she dressed and then wandered back out into the hotel room. 

                  Her companion had also changed and was now fully clothed in a simple white button-down, tucked into dark blue jeans. Both seemed to cling to his build in all the right ways, making color rush to her cheeks as she recalled just what lay beneath the fabric covering his chest. 

                  He was preoccupied with examining the contents of a room-service spread that was laid out on a roll out table, and if he had any inclination of how keenly she was checking him out, he didn’t show it. 

                  She cleared her throat to announce herself. “What’s all this?”

                  He looked over in her direction with a smirk. “I believe it’s referred to as breakfast.”

                  Nikita rolled her eyes. “I know that, but why go to the trouble?”

                  “Because, we don’t have to be back at our respective headquarters for another couple of days and I want to spend this one with you.”

                  Her heart flipped at the warm, inviting and completely sincere expression that lit up his handsome face. “Really?”

Ari bridged the distance between them and tucked a lock of hair back over her ear. “Really. We’re in Paris, Nikita. We should take advantage of it.”

                  The idea of exploring the most romantic city in the world with him had an appeal she couldn’t resist.

                  “One stipulation,” she inched closer.

                  “What’s that?”

                  “Just for today: we aren’t agents for rival organizations working together in secret. We’re normal. That’s what I want.”

                  “Very well, we’ll be an entirely normal couple,” he leaned in, nudging her nose with his. “On a completely normal date.”

                  “As long as that date starts with you kissing me because I’m about to lose my mind if you don’t.”

                  He grinned before doing exactly as she requested.

                  The kiss was tentative at first – a testing of the waters, so to speak – but any imaginings that Nikita might have had paled in comparison to the delicate sensation of Ari’s lips against hers. 

                  She relaxed into the embrace immediately and curled her arms around his neck to tug him closer, nipping playfully at his mouth to signal that he could be less careful if he wished. 

                  Skilled fingers weaved into the silk of her hair, the kiss deepening as they allowed months of pent-up emotion to take hold, teasing and tasting each other until they had to part in order to breathe. 

                  They stood there illuminated by the light pouring in through the room’s windows, foreheads touching, and eyes closed, unwilling to separate just yet. 

                  He was the first to break the silence, amusement lacing his tone: “We should eat before the food goes cold.”

                  “I’m half tempted to call the whole thing off and drag you back to bed,” she confessed with a nuzzle.

                  “Fun as that would be, I have plans for you that involve clothes,” he took a step back, though he twined their fingers together so he could lead her to the breakfast table. 

                  “Damn,” she half-joked, beaming when he gallantly pulled out a chair for her. “We’re in a country with nude beaches, so I thought we might have a work-around.”

                  He choked on his drink at her remark, which was a reward in and of itself. “That’s not what I had in mind.” he sputtered.

                  With a giggle, Nikita loaded up her plate with scrambled eggs, some croissants, and fresh fruit. She figured that whatever Ari was plotting, it would require energy. 

                  They fell into pleasant conversation while they ate and enjoyed their coffee, and when it was finally time to depart – they did so arm-in-arm. 

The life of a rogue operative was actually the furthest thing from glamorous, and though Nikita had traveled to many foreign countries, she had never been given the opportunity to explore. 

This was partially what drove her to dive fully into the guise of tourist, much to Ari’s delight. 

Their first stop of the day was to procure sunglasses – though her hangover had abated somewhat, the bright sun still hurt – and brochures to guide them through the famous landmarks. 

They perused shops, visited the Paris Opera House and the famous Notre Dame cathedral, and then had lunch at a quaint café. When the weather began to chill later in the afternoon, they ducked into a store to get jackets before they continued to the Eiffel Tower. 

The couple had an early dinner in the famous restaurant that overlooked the city, and finally took a romantic walk along the banks of the Seine. 

Though her feet hurt a bit from walking so much, and exhaustion was starting to seep in, Nikita was in bright spirits. “Today has been wonderful.”

“I’m glad.” Ari bumped her shoulder with his, pausing at a scenic vantage point on the bridge that they were crossing. “I know things haven’t been easy lately.”

“They haven’t.” She confirmed, referring to the ever-complicated battle to take down the organization that had turned her into a lethal weapon, for better or for worse. “Having you by my side certainly takes the edge off though.”

They stood close together and watched the sun dip into the horizon – appearing to disappear into the famous river. The sky above was awash in hues of red, pink, and orange, and she now understood why the song La Vie en Rose was so beloved. 

A flurry of emotion settled in her heart when she turned to gaze at her companion.       

There was no doubt that the man beside her was handsome, but the evening light cast a soft glow that befit the sharp angles of his face and made him irresistible in her eyes. 

Her heart began to beat rapidly. Instinctively, she reached out to touch him, only to falter when his gaze caught her own.

A quizzical look was directed her way. “What is it?”

“Do you ever wonder if we should just stop? Run away. Adopt new identities. Start a proper life?” The words came pouring out, and she blushed before ducking her head. “I mean…”

“What are you actually trying to say here, Nikita?” elegant fingers curled beneath her chin to tilt it back, so she was looking at him properly. 

Her breath hitched. His expression was utterly tender and full of affection but tempered by concern at her unexpected rambling. 

“I’m trying to say that I’m in love with you,” she declared. “I tried very, very hard not to fall for you because the life we lead is always uncertain, and I’m sorry but, I couldn’t help it.”

He shushed her and placed a palm against her cheek. “Don’t ever apologize for how you feel.” He leaned in and granted her a sweet kiss that seemed to calm the anxiety that had erupted unintentionally. 

Then – he said the words that would change everything. 

“I love you, Nikita. If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

Tears sprung to her eyes, and she practically leapt into his waiting arms, stealing a far more passionate kiss. “As if I’d want to get rid of you. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

He smiled against her mouth. “Fine by me.”

                  Although she had been the one to suggest it, by the time they reached their destination: Nikita found herself dealing with a different case of nerves. 

                  The irony of them ending up back where they had started wasn’t entirely lost, and while she certainly wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the night in Ari’s arms, she was also hesitant. After all – the man she loved had been utterly respectful in every sense of the word, mindful of her boundaries and putting her feelings ahead of his own. 

She followed him silently after they reached the floor they were staying on in the hotel, mulling over her insecurities when it came to the subject of intimacy. She was no virgin, but her few sexual encounters had been brief, to the point, and usually as part of a cover. The truth was she had never actually made love with someone besides the fiancé that she had lost, and that was some time ago. Nikita was certain that with Ari it was going to be about more than the physical act. 

“You’ve grown quiet,” her companion remarked, jolting her from the reverie. “Is something wrong?”

Her cheeks flared with color, and she shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong! I was just thinking.”

He turned around to face her, apprehension written on his striking features. “If you think we’re moving too fast, I’m fine with slowing down.”

“That’s not it.” She shook her head again and draped her arms over his shoulders. “I want this. I want you.” She kissed him lightly to prove her point. “But I also don’t have the greatest track record when it comes to relationships.”

“I wouldn’t say that” he leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers. “Earlier, you seemed to be doing just fine.”

“That’s because you’re the first man I’ve felt comfortable enough around to let my walls fall,” she confessed. “And I’m afraid of taking the next step and having things end up awkward between us after.”

“I’m honored that you trust me,” he murmured, nuzzling their noses together. “And I understand your trepidation. You’re also the first person I’ve wanted to be with in this way in some time.”

Her heart fluttered at the affection and his heartfelt admission. She leaned into him instinctively, emitting a quiet sigh. “I didn’t mean to ruin the mood by laying this on you so abruptly.”

“You’re not,” he whispered, pulling back just enough to look deeply into her eyes. “Nikita, the last thing I want is for you to ever feel uncomfortable. Whatever happens between the two of us needs to be mutual.”

At a loss for words, she nodded, her heart skipping when he offered her a gentle smile and another kiss that she gratefully returned. 

“So…what now?” she inquired.

“Now – we go into the room, and I draw you a bubble bath.”

She blinked, not expecting that answer. “A bubble bath?”

“You need to relax,” he elaborated, taking the room key out to unlock the door. “When was the last time you were pampered?”

“Never?” 

His response to that was to hoist her into his deceptively strong arms, lifting her effortlessly so he could carry her inside. “Now, that simply will not do.”

Though his action had momentarily startled her, Nikita was quick to wrap her arms securely around his neck. 

He toed off his shoes but didn’t let go of her once they were through the entry, pausing only so she could pull off her ankle boots, and then he carted her off to the bathroom. 

It was there that he set her down carefully on the small vanity chair, and she watched contentedly while he discarded his coat and then rolled up his shirt sleeves.

She cast aside her own jacket by draping it over the back of the chair as he tested the temperature of the water before letting the faucet run. 

A delicious strawberry scent filled the air after he added a few capfuls of shower gel to the bath. Then he rose and faced her, wiping his hands off with a spare washcloth. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“What?” confused, she snapped out of her trance-like state. “I thought you were going to join me.”

“I never said as much,” he chuckled, moving to her side, and brushing his lips against her temple. “However, if you decide that’s what you wish –I’m right outside.”

Stunned, she watched him exit the room and then returned her attention to the state of the bath. 

When it appeared to be more foam than water, she turned off the faucet and methodically began to undress, wondering just what kind of point her beloved was trying to prove. 

Surely it’s a test…he’s probably stretched out naked on the bed by now, waiting to see how desperate I’ll get.

Completely nude, she padded over to the door and cracked it open, peeking out cautiously. 

Ari was indeed stretched out on the bed, perusing a magazine, but had not removed one stitch of clothing. The only alterations were that he had undone several buttons on his collar and his sleeves remained rolled up. 

Blushing, she ducked back inside and hastily wrapped a towel around her body. Well. I read him wrong.

After a few more minutes of consideration, she realized that her embarrassment over the circumstance didn’t change the fact that she wanted him there with her.

She breathed in deeply to steady herself, quickly checked to ensure the bath wasn’t starting to chill, and then opened the door again so she could lean against the frame.

“Ari?” 

He looked up from reading, the crystalline blue of his eyes glittering with appreciation as they took in the sight of her. “Yes?”

She extended out one hand. “Please join me.”

                  He smiled and stood, his fingers entangling with hers seconds later. 

                  She coaxed him into the room, drawing him to her for a kiss while her hands worked to free him from his shirt.

                  The crisp fabric parted over his torso, and he rotated his shoulders in assistance so she could slip it down his arms. 

                  She pulled away from the kiss so she could stare at her leisure, her eyes roving over the sculpted contours of his chest and abdomen, and then lingering along the fine taper of his waist. The bright light of the bathroom should have been unforgiving, but being able to discern the bits of silver in his hair frankly made him more of a sensual picture than ever. 

                  Without preamble – she lunged, claiming his lips urgently and quickly removing the barriers that remained between his skin and hers. 

                  Strong arms circled around her protectively while they embraced, and she marveled over how right it felt to be with him. She could barely stop kissing or touching him long enough to steer them over to the tub, and she jolted in surprise when he scooped her up and did the work for her. 

                  They sank together into the bubbles, naked limbs entwining while they became lost in one another. 

                  “If you’d waited any longer, the water would have gone cold,” he remarked, tugging back to caress at her face.

                  “What can I say, I’m all about timing,” she smirked.

                  A playful grin was directed her way before he dipped his head and pressed several kisses to her throat, his tongue laving over her clavicle and then drifting further down. 

                  She tilted her neck back and reclined fully against the edge of the bathtub, her legs hooking over his waist under the water to keep him close as he continued in his explorations. 

                  Ari proved a generous lover: discovering paths along Nikita’s increasingly sensitized skin that he followed with both hands and mouth. 

                  Suds of strawberry-scented foam were eased aside to grant him better access as he worshipped her body in a manner that was downright intoxicating. Even the most feather-light brush of his fingers along the curve of her hip was enough to spark pleasant tingles, heat gathering at her core the longer his ministrations wore on. 

                  She idly wondered if he was drawing everything out on purpose, but then he finally joined them together with a fluid thrust and the world around her shattered. 

                  A whimper tore from her throat, and she gripped tightly to his biceps, her legs coiling around him to anchor them fully before they set off on a steady rhythm.

                  Their eyes met; raw emotion evident in the bright blue of his gaze that was mirrored in her own. As she’d suspected – this was about so much more than a physical attraction. 

                  Her heart thundered as they engaged in an intimate dance, damp skin causing delicious friction that led to inevitable surrender. 

                  His mouth found hers right as they reached completion, embracing wildly in a manner befitting their coupling until – at last – they were entirely sated. 

                  They stayed in the bath long enough for the water to turn cold, at which point Ari suggested that they finally switch to the more comfortable appearing bed. 

                  Nikita made no protests and was quick to join him in cleaning up around the tub, as their exertions had resulted in plenty of water splashing onto the floor. 

                  They wrapped themselves up in the comfortable, fluffy robes provided by the hotel and settled together on the mattress not long after. 

                  With a content sigh, she cuddled close and took his hand within hers, grazing her mouth lightly over his knuckles. “I want more days that are just like this.”

                  “I want to give them to you,” he admitted. “Were you serious earlier? About stopping?”

                  “Did you think I wasn’t?” she slung a leg over his.

                  He reached out with his free hand and tucked a lock of errant, still-drying hair back over her ear. “I just know that bringing Division down means a lot to you.”

                  “It did… I’m not so sure anymore.” She traced an invisible figure over the triangle of exposed skin revealed by the open collar of his robe. 

                  “Then let me rephrase that,” he leaned in to give her a languid, gentle kiss before murmuring. “What is it that you really want, Nikita?”

                  She searched his gaze, taken in by the honesty there, and knew to be sincere in return. After a moment of pondering his question, she answered. “I want to be happy, Ari. With you. With a life where I’m not constantly looking over my shoulder. What about you?”

                  “I want to be the one who makes you happy,” he confessed. “And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to ensure it.”

                  “I think I already knew that; I just wanted to hear you say it,” she smiled, stretching, and then twisting so she could pin him beneath her, hands fisting in the soft fabric covering his chest. “I also think we’ve taken a long enough break.”

                  There was a low, seductive sound on his part and then she was yanked into an ardent kiss that proved that there was nothing further to discuss for the time being. 

                  After all – the promise of a future was more than enough. 

The End

[teafairywithabook]

Fairyloot Book Box (spoilers)

The March box came yesterday, and it was lovely as usual, unlike my photo taking skills which still have not improved.

The book this month is Seven Faceless Saints by M.K.Lobb which I'll waffle seperately about because it's lovely and I can't wait to read it.

The box itself contained a ceramic plate inspired by The Bear and The Nightingale by Katherine Arden which is exactly what I was hoping for! It's side-plate sized and dishwasher safe. There's a metal bookmark featuring Wrath from Kingdom of the Wicked by Kerri Maniscalco. It's gorgeous, I'm going to use it forever. A bookish sticker sheet and half of them have already been used! I was really happy to see a tarot pouch at last, for all the cards I've been collecting. Speaking of which, the cards this month are the three and four of stars. Eslpeth and Rayvn from One Dark Window by Rachel Gillig (great book BTW).

Photos incoming...

The pouch is beautifully embroidered and is a very generous size.

I love the monochrome design!

The stickers are vinyl and great quality. I almost don’t want to use them. Almost.

And finally the stunning Wrath bookmark and I love this. I don’t know who he is but um…suddenly I feel the need to find out!

[bloomingonionbitch]

Since we're sharing P!ATD stories...buckle up!

I'm originally from the Chicago suburbs (which is also an annoying personality trait) and I was 13 years old, heavily layering tank tops from Kohl's over v-neck shirts.

It's May 2008 and me and these two super cool older girls from Elmhurst (whom I met at Fine Arts Camp @ Saint Mary's College in South Bend, Indiana) went to Honda Civic Tour at the Congress Theatre in Chicago (RIP).

It was my first concert *ever* and I cannot believe how lucky I was to have it filmed. I got that hideous beige/brown Pretty.Odd sweatshirt (see attached for example) and wore it over everything because I believed I had hypohidrosis (spoiler: it was all the layered tank tops from Kohl's).

Motion City Soundtrack, Phantom Planet, and The Hush Sound were incredible openers and I have yet to have a more satisfying line up. BUT. It was at the concert that I had my first seizure! Rewind a second!

I grew up on Neopets and Flash Games and supported my friends who were really good at drawing Sonic the Hedgehog. I was on the computer *a lot.* So when the fingers in my left hand were going numb, it was dismissed as carpal tunnel - easy enough.

Now fast forward to me being such an amped up, cradle Catholic, Peggy Hill-footed teenager. I'm in ecstasy, feeling like the true Fueled By Ramen ™ teen that I knew I was inside. I'm sweaty, I'm scrunched against other people, I'm having an awakening!!!

But then my fingers go number and half of my face does too and I'm thinking it's adrenaline and hormones and Jon Walker - so I keep going. It eventually subsides, then happens again a few days later, and again, and again...for months.

Scooch ahead a little more - my mom advocates for an MRI and we get one, a then few weeks pass.

After going to ~LINCOLNSHIRE~ with my grandma and mom to see "Mama Mia" (on the day before I am set to start *THE* 8th grade), we get a call from my pediatrician that I need to go to the hospital ASAP. Turns out I have a "goober" in my brain and a "goober" is what you call a tumor when you're explaining it to a kid you helped bring into this world. Shout out to the emotional labor of doctors, for real.

I can do a "House"-style medical breakdown later and talk about my surgery/proton radiation, BUT I would much rather talk about all of my Make-A-Wish trip ideas, ripped straight outta 2008!!!

1. Visit the set of "Project Runway" and hang out with Tim Gunn.

2. A pink digital camera - literally, that was it. And you know the one I'm talking about. My Wish Granters were like....you can probably get that on your own sweetie...

3. Be on an episode of TAI TV (remember that!?) If you must know, I had big dumb crushes on Ryland and Sisky.

4. Meet Katy Perry??? (I don't know what we would have talked about or done together...I knew nothing about anything).

5. American Eage shopping spree (in retrospect, their clothes never really fit right and I only wanted to recreate the high of wearing a lace cami under a turquoise henley sweater with a pink skinny scarf at my first middle school dance - it was as much of a "Laguna Beach" moment as I could have).

- Meet Jon Walker - not all of Panic! just Jon. WILD!!!!! Imagine!!!

Dear reader...do you want to know what I chose?

A trip to Turks and Caicos! A place I had never heard of! I got my period for the first time and we could only find cardboard, "old-school" tampons and I was FREAKING OUT. I also got a wicked sunburn (Trileptal folks!) and got sick on an unlimited supply of Boursin whipped cheese spread. Two of my brothers are redheads who do not like the beach! They were so fussy! Turks and Caicos is a lot of beach!

Please please believe me, I am unbelievably thankful for my wish (and health and life and time) and the Granting team, but have any other Make-A-Wish kids spent time thinking about alllllll the other wish possibilities?

I'm not even talking about reflecting back and considering more "practical" (which is bananas to say considering the context), but just like how my interests have changed?

In high school (and probably now, too), I was kicking myself for not using my wish to meet Jason Segel? I still have a massive crush on him, but imagine them calling him up to meet a random kid who picked him as her Make-A-Wish? (This was pre "End of the Tour" and "Muppets" for him - it only was "How I Met Your Mother" and "Freaks and Geeks" for him).

I'm 15 years in remission and doing just fine! I haven't talked about (or processed) personal health stuff very much, so thanks for letting me take a moment from reblogging transparent Snoopy sticker scans and Nora Ephron film stills to reflect on the end of an era.

[hellcatinnc]

Bungo Stray Dogs Season 5 Anime Review

Includes Spoilers

First part of this season by episode 5 I was disgusted. You see the team get back together well partially and then watch each die. The moment I saw them kill of Akutagawa I went sick. Literally watching them hurt Tachihara irritated me.

They were killing people off left and right and you also saw them all start getting turned into vampires because of Fukuchi that runs the hunting dogs. He is almost invincible I mean I used to think that Fyodor was the worst but this guy is way worse. I would much rather deal with Fyodor, however him killing (knocking him out fingers crossed) Sigma annoyed me cause Sigma grew on me.

I thought Dazai had knocked him off by drowning him to find out SOB still survived. But when that vampire shoved that pole into his stomach I almost rejoiced like if it was the wicked witch dead kinda thing. As time goes on its not hard to see Ranpo is the one controlling most of this season. Its different because he is always the one that only steps up in criminal things but damn this boy taking over and stepping up and being in control and dominant makes him so hot.

Watching Fukuzawa get stabbed broke my heart was so glad it ended up not killing him. Then I had to watch him his childhood best friend which brought me to tears. I hated Fukuchi it felt like no one could beat that asshole not even Jouno.

Is it bad I still feel like Jouno reminds me of saint germain in code realize lol.

I loved how Kenji handle things with Tetchō Suehiro, because he flipped his shit and honestly I had no clue this boy was so deadly he looks so cute all the time. Haha guess you really do have to worry about the sweet looking ones. I mean take Ranpo this season he stepped his shit up so much that I felt like season 4 and 5 gave him a directive of who he was. Not gonna lie though I was worry Kenji would kill him and that would have been a waste cause Tetchō Suehiro is hot.

The vampire king Bram the connection he made to Aya Koda then for you to see its because she reminds him of his daughter that I presume died or he lost. Then when she saves him and he bows before her I loved it he was like I'm lord and count but in this moment I am your knight, that was sweet and honorable too.

I didn't like Akutagawa being a vampire however at the very end when him and Atsushi were taking in that last fight I loved know that Akutagawa was back to his normal self as hot as ever.

I feel like season 5 was all over the place however its a season that keeps you on edge because when you think you know whats going to happen something happens changing that. I will say after all the seasons this is still by far my favorite anime because there are hot guys in it, great voice actors, cool characters and abilities, it has the ability to make me laugh, get angry, get happy, and cry all in one show. Thats not something you find often and for that reason I can't wait for more of this show.

Some other honorable mentions of this season. Dazai of course even though he was behind the scenes alot he was also deep in Fyodor's head and the reason that man is dead. Then psycho dude Nikolai Gogol weird he is a cool looking character but I swear he is sadistic and weird and the reason why the set in motion for the detective agency to get so messed up. He can look cool just wish he would look cool and shut up.

Chuuya pretending to be a vampire was different like to me there wasn't enough Chuuya in this season and I would have loved to see him as a vampire without the stupid red eyes. I thought they really messed up the look of the vampires in that way.

Also this was a cool move Akutagawa did and is it just me but before he became a vampire that man got hotter, maybe its just cause I went season 4 without him and Chuuya for the most part so I became touch starved by these men.

Granted some of the others were in the picture but very little besides Atsushi he is always the heart in the background or in the front and I love him for that. Not to mention when him and Akutagawa fight and he gives the were tiger his power too so bad ass.

Anyways now I get to go through withdraw until a new season however you can plan to see some fan fic some hot and steamy as well as fluff of these sexy men. If you have yet to see it definitely check it out. Its not normally my type but the characters are so relatable, sexy, charming etc you won't want to stop watching.

[ithillyienseowyn]

Ithillyienseowyn Reading List: 2020-2023

2023

spoiler alert: the hero dies (january 2023)

addicted to you ~ re-read (january 2023)

spare - part 1 (january 2023)

grisha trilogy: ruin and rising ~ re-read (february 2023)

daisy jones and the six (february 2023)

ricochet ~ re-read (march 2023)

the lives of saints (march 2023)

spare - part 2 (april 2023)

six of crows ~ re-read (april 2023)

uncle of the year (may 2023)

the little mermaid: the novelization (june 2023)

spare - part 3 (june 2023)

cinderella: the novelization (july 2023)

an offer from a gentleman ~ re-read (august 2023)

get a life, chloe brown (august 2023)

heartstopper vol. 3 ~ re-read (august 2023)

we'll always have summer ~ re-read (august-september 2023)

unlucky like us (august-september 2023)

twisted love (september 2023)

twisted games (september-october 2023)

pageboy (october 2023)

happy place (october 2023)

coraline (october 2023)

carrie (october-november 2023)

take a hint, dani brown (october-november 2023)

twisted hate (october-november 2023)

caraval (november 2023)

act your age, eve brown (november-december 2023)

excuse me while i ugly cry (november-december 2023)

last sacrifice ~ re-read (november-december 2023)

caraval #2: legendary (november-december 2023)

smythe-smith quartet: just like heaven (december 2023)

freak the mighty ~ re-read (december 2023)

smythe-smith quartet: a night like this (december 2023)

twisted lies (december 2023)

2022

grisha trilogy: siege and storm ~ re-read (january-february 2022)

beach read (march 2022)

the viscount who loved me (april 2022)

an offer from a gentleman (april 2022)

romancing mister bridgerton (april 2022)

to sir phillip, with love (april 2022)

when he was wicked (may 2022)

it’s in his kiss (may 2022)

on the way to the wedding (may 2022)

the summer i turned pretty (june 2022)

it’s not summer without you (june 2022)

we’ll always have summer (july 2022)

people we meet on vacation (july 2022)

misfits like us (july 2022)

a walk to remember (july 2022)

book lovers (august 2022)

shadowhunter academy: the whitechapel fiend (august 2022)

shadowhunter academy: nothing but shadows (august 2022)

ghosts of the shadow market (august 2022)

the duke and i (august 2022)

the spanish love deception (august 2022)

the american roommate experiment (september 2022)

vampire academy ~ re-read (october 2022)

frostbite ~ re-read (october 2022)

shadow kiss ~ re-read (october 2022)

blood promise ~ re-read (november 2022)

spirit bound ~ re-read (november 2022)

too much is not enough (november 2022)

modern love (december 2022)

2021

twelfth night (january 2021)

merry wives of windsor (january 2021) 

as you like it ~ re-read (january 2021) 

concrete rose (january 2021) 

othello (january 2021)

a court of wings and ruin ~ re-read (february 2021)

a court of silver flames (february 2021)

queen of air and darkness (april 2021) 

rule of wolves (may 2021) 

red, white & royal blue (may 2021) 

fearless like us (june 2021)

one last stop (june 2021) 

grisha trilogy: shadow and bone ~ re-read (august 2021)

the heart principle (september 2021)

the legacy (october 2021)

second first impressions (october 2021)

infamous like us (october 2021)

naturally tan (december 2021)

you’ll be the death of me (december 2021)

2020

the dare (june 2020)

the ballad of songbirds and snakes (june 2020)

charming like us (june 2020)

sweet magnolias: stealing home (july 2020)

sweet magnolias: a slice of heaven (july 2020)

sweet magnolias: feels like family (july 2020)

sweet magnolias: welcome to serenity (july 2020) 

sweet magnolias: home in carolina (july 2020)

sweet magnolias: sweet tea at sunrise (august 2020)

sweet magnolias: honeysuckle summer (august 2020)

sweet magnolias: midnight promises (august 2020)

sweet magnolias: catching fireflies (august 2020)

sweet magnolias: where azaleas bloom (august 2020)

sweet magnolias: swan point (august 2020)

tangled like us (august 2020)

sinful like us (august 2020)

midnight sun (august 2020)

a court of mist and fury ~ re-read (september-october 2020)

wild like us (november 2020)

the cousins (december 2020)

[stop-calling-me-sweetheart]

okay so we love the Ruthless Gods, alter scene BUT...

can we pls talk about THE POST-BLOOD POOL SCENE !! the need, the yearning, the spice and the betrayal

[glitzandshadows]

Hi!! Just want to say that I really love your books, Serefin is my favorite character (please don't kill him) thank you for writing an amazing story, can't wait for the third book ❤

thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

i mean, technically, he has already died :) 

[theghostwrites]

Malachiasz at the end of Ruthless Gods

[blackthornkisses]

Wicked Saints: A Summary

no one:

not a single soul:

literally fucking no one:

Nadya: He’s a monster. This cruel beautiful monstrous boy. I care about him but I don’t. He’s horrifying. And sad. And I trust him but... I don’t.

(this is supposed to be funny btw!! love the book haha)