#Another interesting thing is that her eyes are burned to a crisp like coals because theyre actually Catastrophes eyes

[reddenedrust]

Her Uncanniness Excellency, The Goddess Desdemona of Death, Chaos & Symphony.

[dauntless-gothamite]

Prove Them Wrong [1/?]

Fandom: Divergent Pairing: Eric Coulter x Fem! Reader Summary: Y/N is a Dauntless transfer from Erudite, and she has a drive, an ambition that sets her apart--it always has, even back in Erudite. She brings her perseverance (and need to prove others wrong) to Dauntless when she transfers, and she uses her mind to make her way through the initiation process. Along the way, she makes friends and enemies, and she finds herself comfortable around the man most people in Dauntless avoid at all costs: Eric Coulter.  A/N: hey, everyone! so some elements of this are based on myself and how I interact with people, mainly because I tend to bond with people who are not well-liked (i.e. I got along well with teachers everyone hated, consistently). I plan to keep most descriptions of the reader vague so you can insert yourself, though! this first chapter is a little bit slow, but I am already well into writing chapter 2, and I am really excited about where this fic is going! Enjoy!!

“Dauntless!” Marcus Eaton called out--Abnegation was hosting the Choosing Ceremony this year--and as your blood hit the burning coals, a series of cheers and claps erupted from the fearless faction. You took your place next to the other Dauntless transfers and snuck a glance at your family. Your parents looked sad--disappointed, almost--but it was nothing compared to the way some parents reacted to their children choosing another faction. Your father caught your eye as he pulled a handkerchief from his crisp blue suit and handed it to your mother, who was just barely containing her tears. Quickly, you looked away. A moment later, a girl with dirty blonde hair sat down beside you. Her loose grey clothing indicated she was in Abnegation, or at least she had been. She was Dauntless now, and so were you. 

A series of names you only half heard filled the room, and before you knew it, the ceremony was over. Then, as if they’d been waiting for the chance to get up from their seats, all the Dauntless rushed out of the building, racing for the train tracks. You and the other initiates stared at them as they began to climb, shocked. Sure, you knew you’d be taking the train, but you’d never thought about how you’d actually get there. Shoving the thought out of your mind, you began to climb, the Abnegation girl from before and a girl from Candor scaling the poles on either side of you. Once you made it to the top, you saw everyone standing in a line, facing away from the train. That’s when it hit you: they were going to run and jump onto the train. This was unlike anything you’d ever done, but it was exciting, and you knew that with the right speed and angle, you’d be fine. When the rails started to vibrate and the train came into view, you took off. 

You weren’t the fastest, but you weren’t the slowest either, and that was worth something. At the very least, you would make the train. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw an opening, and without hesitation, you jumped. It was so different from life in Erudite. There, nothing was done without consideration. You had to look at a problem from all angles and weigh the possibilities, consider the outcomes of every scenario, even for the simplest of tasks. Here, you could just do. It was liberating, and you knew you’d made the right choice. Although, it would be damn near impossible to drop all of the habits you’d picked up in Erudite. Some aspects of the scholarly faction were simply a part of you; it would be impossible to erase that. But, for the sake of your survival, you’d have to do your best. 

“Hey,” said a voice from behind you. You turned around and saw a boy with brown hair and dark eyes, which stood out against his pale skin. “I’m Albert,” he said. “But everyone calls me Al.” He stuck his hand out and you shook it.

“I’m Y/N,” you said, glad to have already made one friend. You smiled before turning away to look out at the city; the train provided a great view when it wasn’t in the center of the city surrounded by buildings. While you were looking at the skyline, you saw movement and heard screams of both terror and excitement to your left. You turned to see what was causing the commotion, and you saw people jumping from the train onto a gravelly roof. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Al said as he joined you at the edge of the train. 

“This is crazy,” you agreed. But whereas Al looked terrified, you were grinning, adrenaline from boarding the train still pumping through your veins, making you aware of each and every nerve in your body. Then, with the roof coming up, you took a few steps back, ran forward and jumped. 

Your body hit the gravelly roof hard, ripping a hole in your blazer. Thankfully, it seemed like that was the only thing that broke; your body felt perfectly fine, if a little sore from the impact. You looked around to see Al a few feet away from you, and you smiled, glad he’d made it. The two of you got up and headed to the other end of the roof, where the initiates who had already jumped off the train stood facing a tall man with cropped hair and neck tattoos. “Alright, listen up,” the man said when the last car of the train passed the edge of the roof. If someone wasn’t off of it yet, there was only one stop for them now: factionless. “I’m Eric, one of your leaders here at Dauntless. I will also be overseeing your training, which began the second your blood hit the coals. So, rather than waste any more time, let's get on with it. You want to get into Dauntless, this is the way in. Who is going to jump first?”

At this point, everyone was peering over the ledge Eric stood on, more focused on what was behind him. A dark hole in the concrete far below where we stood. You looked around you, nodding at Will, who you knew from Erudite, happy to see a familiar face amongst all this chaos. As you moved towards him, the girl from Abnegation who had sat next to you earlier stepped forward. “Me,” she said, volunteering to jump first. Everyone looked around with wide eyes while Eric scoffed. 

“The Stiff? Alright.”

Unbothered, the girl stepped onto the ledge, and a few seconds later, she disappeared into the shadowy depths of whatever lay below.

Watching the girl in grey jump first had sent a shock of surprise through you, but it was followed by something new, the desire to try this new and dangerous thing before you, and as the third jumper stepped off the ledge, you found yourself stepping forward, volunteering to go next. As you stepped onto the ledge, Eric raised a pierced brow at you, waited a few seconds for the previous jumper to get off of the net, and jerked his head towards the net, motioning for you to jump. And then, in a silent response, you jumped, a smile unexpectedly gracing your lips as you made contact with the net below, landing with a bounce. You turned to the man standing next to the net who helped you out of the net, and he introduced himself as Four before directing you to stand in line with the other initiates who had already jumped. Minutes crawled by as you waited for the rest of the initiates to jump, and after what felt like forever, Eric landed in the net and directed his cold stare at the initiates lined up as he slid off the net without Four’s assistance--though it didn’t seem like Four was inclined to help him, either. Interesting. 

--

The transfer dorm was small, crowded, and damp--somehow it was exactly what you expected and entirely different at the same time. As everyone claimed a bed, Four and Eric stood near the door, ready to make an announcement. You smiled at the Candor girl with short, black hair who was setting up the bed next to yours, about to introduce yourself when one of the trainers by the door--most likely Eric--cleared his throat, silencing the room. “Welcome to Dauntless, Eric said. “As Four just explained, this is where you will be staying for the next few weeks while you complete your training. You will receive more information about the training process tomorrow morning at the first session, but for now all you need to know about it is that the training room is three floors up, down the hallway, and to the left. Meet in the Pit, which is upstairs, in fifteen minutes for some announcements from Max and dinner.” Then, he left.

“That guy is all business, huh?” the girl you were about to introduce yourself to said lightly. 

“Yeah,” you smiled back. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Christina,” she replied with an outstretched hand. As you shook her hand she looked you over and said, “So, Erudite. What made you want to transfer?”

“Well, it is best for one to go to a place for which they are well-suited…” you trailed off. “What about you, Candor?”

“Candor is a place of words and action, with slightly more words. I wanted more action,” she shrugged. A thud on the bed on your other side distracted you before you could respond, and you turned around to see familiar light green eyes.

“Will!” you said, wrapping your fellow Erudite transfer in a brief hug. You’d vaguely registered his name at the choosing ceremony followed by the word “Dauntless”, but it hadn’t really dawned on you until now that there were fellow Erudite transfers here. “Have you seen Edward?” you asked.

“Yeah, he’s right over there,” Will replied, pointing to the corner of the room. You waved at Edward, and he smiled back as he continued setting up his bed. 

“Amazing,” you said softly, more to yourself than to Will. “By the way, this is Christina, she’s from Candor,” you said, remembering your new friend. Will shot her a smile, and Christina reached out to shake his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” she said enthusiastically. 

“Likewise,” Will replied. Seeing all of your fellow transfers getting to know each other was exciting, and even though you wanted to stay in this room with all of them and get to know everyone else, you knew it was a better idea to start making your way to the Pit; there was rarely a time when showing up early was a bad thing, and leaving early would make sure you got there in time even if you got lost along the way. As you started to head out down the hallway, the former Abnegation joined you, seeming to have the same idea. “Hi,” you said, introducing yourself. “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Tris,” she replied quietly. “You were in Erudite, right?” she asked.

“I was. And you were in Abnegation?”

“Yeah.” There was something sad about the way she said it, but you decided to let it go; you didn’t really know her yet. As you were thinking of what to say next, Tris interrupted your thoughts saying, “My brother just transferred there. To Erudite, I mean.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll love it,” you said, smiling fondly as memories of the Erudite libraries surfaced in your mind. “You get to spend so much time learning and teaching others, and they actually respect personal space--at least a little bit. I’ll even let you in on a secret: the suits are much more comfortable than they look, I promise.” She laughed a little bit at the last statement, and you relaxed, starting to enjoy her company. 

--

As it turned out, you and Tris had no trouble finding the Pit, and it wasn’t surprising that you were the first ones there. Both of you sat down, and you did your best to ignore the occasional looks from Four and Eric as they stood on a balcony overlooking the Pit with Max, the head of Dauntless leadership and the faction’s representative when the five factions held council, and talked amongst themselves. Soon, thankfully, a few more of the transfers sat down with you and Tris, and they were soon followed by a steady trickle of transfers, the room getting louder with each person who entered. Max walked to the edge of the balcony and called for everyone’s attention, and the room got quiet, a nervous excitement filling your body. 

“Welcome, initiates,” the leader’s low voice filled the room. “We are glad to have you here at Dauntless. Here, you will be trained to be protectors of our city. You will be tested physically, emotionally, and mentally, and it will be hard, but you will come out stronger and braver, which is what you need to be to survive in this faction. Your training starts tomorrow; you will be working with Four and Eric, the initiates who aren’t transfers will be working with Lauren. For now, dig in, you’re going to need your strength for tomorrow.” Cheers erupted across the room, and people got up to grab food before racing back to their new friends. This was the beginning of something new for everyone, and excitement raced through your veins. You were ready to start your new life.

[we-have-bangtan]

I summoned you

Random one-shot #3

Pairing: demons!OT7 x witch!reader

Genre: fluff, fluff and more fluff, poly au

warning: swearing, its hella longggggg. <33

Part 2

Synopsis: The seven most powerful demons in the world were summoned for the first time in over a hundred years only to find out that their summoner is a little witch who was being hunted by witch hunters. She seeks protection from them but at what cost?

“Who the fuck summoned us?” Hoseok groaned feeling the familiar pain of transformation go through his body, “I don’t know but it better be worth it, I’m getting too old for this shit” Seokjin groaned as pain shot through his veins, black, bat-like wings erupting from his back as he fell to the ground in pain, the scars on his body burning up.

          Namjoon wasn’t much better either, biting into a pillow as burning pain took over his head, his horns and fangs coming out for the occasion, it had been over a hundred years since they had last been summoned and they were bearing the pain of not transforming in all there years, Jungkook hissed as he felt his tailbone extend out of his body, piercing through his skin to form a tail.

Jimin and Tae held each other as each of their left eyes glowed bright, screaming as they changed from black to red, “I hope it isn’t an accident again or I’ll eat them alive” Jungkook groaned as he pulled himself off the ground grimacing at the pain that shot through his body.

Yoongi was the only one not in pain because he had been living in his demon form for a few years now, he didn’t have to transform.

“The spell was lost, I don’t know how someone is summoning us” he informed as Seokjin opened the portal to the mortal world, the portal would take them to where ever they were being summoned.

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 Y/n anxiously stared at the pentagram she had drawn on her cottage floor, she’d be over if this spell didn’t work. She could hear the villagers approaching, could see the glow of their torches from her window. They were climbing up the hill, coming for her life, this spell was her only way of living.

She didn't know why the villagers had turned on her so easily when she had never done anything to them. She had kept her witchcraft confined to her cottage and its surroundings, but they seemed to have found out, she would blame the church people for that, because they were at the beginning of the uprising egging the villagers on.

They had almost caught her an hour ago when she had gone down for supplies, her arms were bruised from their assault but she had managed to escape from them, but she could run anywhere except her cottage.

She couldn't run anymore, there was no where to run now, she either had to stand and fight, which she was too weak for, or she had to perish, which she was too stubborn for so she had taken to the last resort, the demon spell.

Her magic wouldn't be enough to Wipeout all the people who were marching up the hill to her cottage, they'd burn her on the stake if they caught a hold of her, it would be a death with no pride or honor.

She felt the air shift around her, the salt grains blowing here and there and the candles flickering, the wind picked up speed outside as a portal opened directly above the pentagram and a demon fell out, falling to the ground with a thud and a groan. She moved to help him up but quickly stopped as a scream came from inside the portal before six other demons fell on the first one. Chaos ensured as each of them yelled at the other to get off their wings or tails or any other body part, she loudly cleared her throat to grab their attention making seven pairs of eyes snap to her.

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"Did you summon us little girl?" Namjoon asked as he took in her condition, she was awfully malnourished, her arms bruised and frail, she was a timid little thing who he assumed wasn't much younger than Jungkook before he had been changed into a demon. The girl nodded, holding a wand in her hand, a witch, Seokjin realized before he focused on her arms, “How did you summon us little witch” he asked, he was pretty sure the spell to summon them was a 21+ spell and she barely looked 18+ to him.

           “with the spell of course although I didn’t know it would summon seven of them, I would have drawn a lager circle had i known” she mumbled making Yoongi gawk at her statement, “HOW THE FUCK DO YOU CAST A SUMMONING SPELL WITHOUT KNOWING HOW MANY DEMONS IT WOULD SUMMON?? WE COULD HAVE RIPPED YOUR THROAT OUT THE MOMENT WE SHOWED UP HERE” Hoseok barked, snapping his fangs at her.

 “I know, no need to be an arse about it” she retorted as Hoseok stared at her in disbelief, “well then why did you summon us little witch?” Taehyung intervened, “I need help,” she stated plainly. This piqued Jimin’s interest, they all were clearly thinking the same thigh judging from the look in their eyes, they were mates, he knew how they thought, “Are you sure you can pay the price for our services darling” Seokjin remarked sweeping his eyes over the mostly bare cottage. 

            This girl was clearly living alone, a cauldron with coals under it sat in one corner of the house and a winding staircase lead up to attic which he assumed was her bedroom. Clothes hung to dry near the fire place in another corner of the house, her cupboards were mostly empty other than a loaf of bread and a tin of something he couldn’t recognize. She clearly didn’t have much to give.

“What is your price?” She asked, Yoongi admired her guts, she was clearly working hard on trying to seem unafraid, although she failed miserably, at least she tried. The seven of them thought for a while when they head a loud bang on the door. The girls eyes widened in fear, “they’re here” she cursed as she cast a colloportus spell on the door, “hurry up please” she pleaded, “what’s going on? what help do you need?” Jungkook asked as Seokjin place a shield over the door blocking the people from coming in for a short while.

                “They’re hunting me and i want them gone” she revealed, the boys looked up at her, “how sure are you that we won’t rip your throat once you set us free from this circle” Yoongi asked, “I don’t have anything to lose if you kill me the moment i let you free, I don’t have much to live for anyway” she answered, “we’ll discuss the price once we’re done” Namjoon warned as she cast the aqua eructo spell, a stream of water sprouting from the tip of her wand, wiping the circle of salt away just as a window shattered, glass spilling everywhere.

               “Jimin, get her somewhere safe” Namjoon commanded his mate, the younger demon nodded dutifully before stepping forward and wrapping an arm around her waist, positioning his wings, “hold on tight” he warned as he too to the air, going out through the back door of the cottage, taking her to the roof of the cottage, “stay here while we sort that stuff out” he told her, taking off to join the others.

        They possessed the humans, making them kill each other or they’d simply burn them to a crisp, she had expected them to be strong and powerful, but not this powerful, powerful to wipe out all the people who had come to attack her. She didn’t pay much heed to the humans who ran into the forests, she didn’t care where they went as long as they didn’t come near her or her cow, Morphus, who was currently in the shed, a little away from the clearing she lived at. 

  She noticed one of the church men trying to climb the roof to get to her but she quickly jinxed him, making him fall off the roof. Half way through the battle, Yoongi called in quits because the boys could deal with it without him, he joined Y/n on the roof top, folding his wings carefully to not hurt her, “Why don’t you just move from here, go fin some other forest to live in” he asked, leaning back on his hands, looking up at the sky, “there’s no where else to go, I’ve been running for too long” she answered and with that all conversation subsided as they both watched the others fight, Yoongi noticed a few people running for the forests and jerked up to go after them only to be stopped by Y/n, “let them be,” she said and he obey’d.

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It didn’t take the demons long to finish everyone, they all gathered in her kitchen, Jin and Taehyung were hurt, but nothing big, just minor wounds according to the two demons but she insisted on tending to their injuries with a warm cloth and some potions, “this will scar” she told Jin, feeling guilty all of a sudden, “one of a million, don’t worry” he smiled as she wrapped his almost fully healed hand up.

“what is this?” Jungkook asked as he peered down the mug on Y/n’s table, “banana milk” she answered as she turned to Taehyung to wrap his wound up too, Jungkook took a sip of the milk before downing the whole mug, “do you have more?” he asked, looking like a child who wants an extra treat, she nodded, getting up to pull out a jar full of it from her cupboard, handing it to the boy, she didn’t seem the least bothered that a demon boy was drinking up all her banana milk. 

“so what is the price I have to pay? if you’ll hurry up, I have cleaning to do” she said looking at the dead bodies scattered all around her house, some even on tree branches. The boys looked at each other, “We’ll need some time to discuss” Namjoon said on behalf of them all, “you do that and I’ll clean that up” she said, grabbing her wand and leaving the house.

“So, what now?” Namjoon asked once he made sure she was far away from them, “I don’t think she can really give much, she barely has anything herself” Hoseok said, scanning the room again, “This place is nice tho, although she could use some more things in it” Seokjin admitted, looking around the peaceful cottage, it was clean, and would look beautiful if it wasn’t so bare, “it is” Namjoon admitted when Jimin’s piped up, “I don’t like the fact that she lives like this, she could die any moment and no one would notice, maybe we can come here more often” he suggested, already planning all the things he’d bring here from the underworld, Namjoon nodded, “it has been way too long since I’ve actually seen the sky, donno why mortals have to have all the good things when they die so easily” he huffed as he looked out of the window, looking down at the valley in which the village nestled.

        “I have an idea hyung, why don’t we use her place as a sort of abode, she can offer her house to us when ever we want in exchange for our services” Taehyung offered and Namjoon and Seokjin agreed, it would be nice to come to the mortal world often, “is everyone fine with that?” he asked the others, none of them rejected the idea and soon enough, Y/n was called back in.

   They explained what they wanted and she just stared at them, dumbfound, “why would you want to come here when you can live luxuriously in the demon world?” she asked, “the demon world is not all its cooked up to be” Jimin answered.

It took a little convincing (threatening) to get her to agree but she did.

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The boys were common visitors to her little cottage, each of them would show up on their own accord and timing with their own reasons, often in their human form, she had been surprised to see how much more handsome the seven of them were in their human forms and she had told them so.

             They would show up with little things that she would need around the house, sometimes unnoticeable and sometimes ridiculous, they’d bring her small fancy plates and saucers, fabrics and potion ingredients and even a new wand once before they progressed to bringing bigger things like vases and pillows and rugs despite her protesting.

Namjoon was the first to show up at her door with a book in hand to see books about the seven of them scattered on her table. They had stopped popping up directly inside the house after Y/n had yelled at them for freaking her out, “reading up on us I see” he commented as he dragged a chair to sit, “I’ll have to because i literally don’t know anything about the seven of you” she mumbled as she read on. They both read their books in silence before Y/n offered him tea which he accepted gratefully.

  Seokjin and Jungkook were the next one’s to show up because they were hungry, she served them with honey bread and maple syrup. Seokjin showed a keen interest in cooking, offering to help her out while she cooked for the three of them, since then, he’d show up during meal times to eat with her and cook with her, it became something the two of them got used to and one of the greatest things Seokjin would miss once she had passed.

   Jungkook and her bonded over banana milk, the boy couldn’t get enough of it, even taking some back to the demon realm only to come back for more the next day. They both would wander the forest in search of bananas and maple trees and make the banana milk together, he was the most frequent visitor that even Morphus had started to recognize Jungkook who would sit next to Y/n when she milked the cow every morning.

Tae and Jimin would often come together just to mess with her and to make a fool out of the villagers down in the valley. They went herb searching together in the forests. They’d pick flowers for the house and they even dug up a well for the little cottage to use.

Hoseok would also come by often just to gossip with her, telling her about all the events in the demon world, they both would talk over tea and little cakes about Namjoon’s snoring and Seokjin’s new obsession with bad jokes. On days which were not too hot or too cold they’d set up a table outside and just bask in each others company.

Yoongi was the last to visit her, and even when he did visit, he decided to take a nap only to get back up complaining about how bumpy the mattress was before vanishing off and coming back with a new mattress. They’d nap together on days Y/n didn’t have anything to do, and had been found wrapped up with each other by the other quiet often. 

They’d all come together once every few days to have lunch and dinner and to talk and play, enjoying the sun and grass and flowers before they had to go back to the demon world.   

It was funny to see the seven strongest demons be so gentle and ind to a little human girl, weaving flower crowns for her and laying their head in her lap, taking cat naps together.

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They seven boys got quiet attached to the little witch, trying to meet her as often as possible and be as gentle as possible to her. Imagine their surprise when Namjoon walked in on a sorcerer sitting on one of the chairs as Y/n made him a cup of tea. 

“A demon!” the sorcerer shrieked as Namjoon came inside the house, Y/n slowly turned around to see Namjoon standing st the door, greeting him with a smile and a kiss to his cheek, “Namjoon-ah meet my mentor, the great Sorcerer Potter” she introduced as Namjoon felt a green knot form in his chest, he was sure the rest of his mates felt it too because a portal opened not soon after, tossing the 6 other boys into the mortal world, all of them looking eerily calm, “why is he here y/n? he questioned, “he just came to visit” she explained, “then why is his smell all over you?” Jungkook demanded, grabbing her wrist to get a scent of her.

“get lost” Yoongi hissed at the sorcerer, the powerful man shrieked as he apparated to who knows where. “Y/n,” Hoseok said, taking her hands in his, “did he touch you” he asked, his voice low, she shook her head, no, no one had touched her, thank the demons, Jimin thought as he enveloped her in his arms, overpowering the sorcerer’s smell with his own. “good, don’t let anyone touch you except for us little witch” Seokjin mumbled as he placed a kiss on her forehead, she hummed in agreement as they all bundled up in her cozy cottage, now a lot more comfortable and colorful than before.

They loved her but they couldn’t have her because demons didn’t deserve happiness, it was a curse on them, they weren’t meant to love, only hate and kill because even if they loved y/n they’d inevitably end up with a part of their heart hollow because demons couldn’t love little witches because demons were immortal while witches would meet their end soon enough.

None of them laid with their little witch because it was forbidden but they did caress her, they held her close and made her feel warm and loved by each of them, they were tender and careful with her, trying to spend every moment with her and while that might seem like too much for a mortal, it was a mere few moments for immortals and they tried to carve her memory into their hearts and minds so they would never forget her despite how much time passed by.

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The eight of them spent 86 years together, Y/n passed due to illness at the ripe age of a hundred and twelve years with a smile and her seven demons surrounding her when she too her last breath.

The demons wished she’d reincarnate bu they didn’t keep much hope in that because demons wishes were never fulfilled. But they lived on with the memory of the little witch who had summoned them and had carved herself into their cold, dark hearts.

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Y/n's cottage

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First try, how was it? let me know!!!!

[sanoiro]

Lucifer Meta: “Choices”

“Choice is a funny thing…-“

Those were Dad’s words not mine back in 3x26. Before P2 dropped I was always saying that episode should be considered one of the core episodes if we wanted to understand S5 and Dad as a whole.

“Give someone different options, different circumstances, will they themselves end up different?” -Dad in 3x26

Lucifer S5 P2 spoilers ahead (I will add more screenshots later on)

I always liked the idea of Lucifer having a choice although his vulnerability theory of mine back in S2 was born out of a different thought.

But angels self-actualise however that applies to wings, a face and powers. In Michael’s case it was his posture as broken as he felt. Otherwise how we could explain that only he tried to urge Chloe on killing him but was rather docile when he believed he would face an immediate death.

Now what we didn’t know is that Gods also self-actualise. Therefore it is a genetic trait if you like. So let’s take this concept when we study Lucifer.

Lucifer has made his own choices over the years and the choices he made were the ones that brought us to the events of S5. However something doesn’t add up. Like yes, he chose that face in Hell because of his shame and how he viewed himself. Lucifer admitted it in 4x08 and Dad confirmed it as well in 5x11. So what is the two things amiss? Well one mostly throughout the series? His glowing red eyes.

The majority of the fanfiction out there express his eyes as an evidence of his Devilness, a connection to Hell while I believed for a very long time it was a manifestation of him being the Lightbringer but what does that constitutes?

Back in S2 Mum constantly calls Lucifer her ‘Lightbringer’, Lucifer lights up Azrael’s blade alone fleetingly when angry at his mother in Trip to Stabby Town. When the Medallion of Life is put on the blade his pain over Chloe flames it up for several seconds before it stops. Only when Lucifer assembles the sword, the medallion and the binding element, also known as Amenadiel’s jewelry. But there is again something amiss. Lucifer does flame it up in 2x18 but Mum’s words suggested that with all the pieces gathered she could do it herself. In a sense it is how Michael did it. No lightbringing power needed but what is that power?

I’m sure you remember back the finale of S3 where Lucifer’s face is licked by fire, his Devil face shows and his eyes glow red. Cain then agrees with Lucifer that ‘You cannot escape what you are’ moving forward in 5x16 Lucifer says I love you to Chloe and he is set on fire very much like he did in S3. Then we see a light we have associated mostly with Mum and Chloe wakes up.

So let’s think of this.

Lucifer apparently since his birth is known as the Lightbringer for no apparent reason. He lit the stars sure but only Mum and Dad are adamant on calling him that the only two beings in the universe that were omnipotent and above all? Omniscient. But they had a pitfall. Not even Mum could see she would be sent to Hell. That leads us to believe that there are choices which lead to as Uriel said to ‘patterns’. Different choices, different patterns. A thousands paths we can take but we cannot which one eventually will be taken and probably Dad and Mum held an optimism.

So let’s assume that when it came to Lucifer they knew one thing. That he had the ability to become a God - perhaps that is why Mum searched for him as he was also a key on changing things, if he became God then essentially she had won but she knew his potential. Now that’s another interesting thing…. Potential.

Dad in S5 tells Ella that the darker the darkness the brighter the light. In Lucifer, Dad mournfully notes that his son has so much light it blinds even him (aka Lucifer).  Perhaps what we as perceived as unseen darkness -even him- is, in reality, a blinding light. Like a torch, you have no idea how to adjust your eyes to and everything seems like it's not light but darkness. So Lucifer had to go from being blinded by his own light to target it outwards in order to light the room. That was his potential. 

Lucifer’s potential for goodness had to be harvested as was his ability to love. He liked humanity, respected them to a point, loathed them to another. Still does actually. But here is the thing. Potential think of Lucifer like a piece of coal or a battery whatever suits you best. Coal can be used to start a low grade fire that can spread from there but by itself it is but a black piece of nothing. So what if what we witnessed in the past five seasons was Lucifer being a slowly burning coal?

Let’s go back to Pops in S1. Lucifer is vulnerable when he takes Chloe out of the flaming restaurant and although he was burned he managed exceptionally well. In S4 he gets out of the exploding building albeit Chloe is far away and his clothes are not burned… Now let’s go to 5x10. Funny if you think that Lucifer manages to stop the chemist flame from burning which is weird as yes he stops the oxygen source to the flame so it us put out but two things happen. One his sleeve gets burned but it is also put out once the flamer does. Lucifer blames it on the polyester mix when we know he does not wear any and if he does it should have spread more.

If Lucifer was completely invulnerable then his suit would have been fine like it was in S4. Sure we have seen bullets not hurt him but have an issue with his clothes but to quote 4x02, it’s all about fire not the suit-superman effect.

Now in 3x23 Lucifer realises that Chloe does not need him but she choose to have him in her life and as such he is willing to leave his 2x12 miracle knowledge behind. In 5x06 Chloe talks about vulnerability which is based on a choice of Lucifer to be vulnerable around her. But with that choice to forward their relationship in 5x07 Lucifer is also making the choice subconsciously to expose himself to her emotionally and physically. At that point that choice stops his vulnerability probably because there is nothing to fear from her anymore. His vulnerability per 5x10 made him felt something he self actualised physically the vulnerability he felt but when she accepted him in her heart and stared a physical relationship his exposed himself differently emotionally.

Therefore Lucifer is still by choice vulnerable to Chloe but not physically as now he is in a healthier place. He opens up to her he is giving a conscious choice to be vulnerable to her while his body stops this stress induced self actualisation -perhaps- of being physically vulnerable. When he is hurt he shows it, he tells her what is going on even if it takes some time. Perhaps at the kitchen at her apartment Chloe didn’t draw blood from his body but certainly did from his soul and he allowed that.

When Mum in S2 said that Chloe was the key she was correct but not for lighting up the flaming sword but lightening up Lucifer. Lucifer needed to reach the point of choosing to be emotionally vulnerable around her and realising he was capable of love and that he loved Chloe, loved humanity.

In 5x16 when Lucifer is starting to burn up, most I’m sure went back to Michael’s words of Lucifer burning to the crisp if he went to Heaven as he was banned. But here is the thing Lucifer made a sacrificial move like the kid in 509 did for the family business. The ring simply bought him time. Lucifer left Heaven but I do not believe he was banned from there or at least I believe that Heaven had a safety net. We saw that even Gods have limitations so let’s think of this:

If Lucifer had listened to Mum and went to heaven the ring would have bought him some time but eventually he would have been either expelled or died(?). Again there are many things to consider here:

-What does it mean to be a God? Is it about power? Is it about being a Creator? Is it about the choice to become a carer? Lucifer became a carer in Hell albeit a rather unconventional one and as we may see things will change.

-Dad and Lucifer have a common thing they love humans and humanity in general. No other angel aside from Amenadiel and only due to his son does do far and in Amenadiel’s case it is not unconditional.

-The fact Lucifer was willing to be God not just for Chloe but because the system was rigged and he loved humans like Daniel and thought that he had to protect the innocent or at least provide a chance for a second chance.

-The song in the end when Lucifer is presented as a God, we listen to the Klergy sing that in a sense it was always mean to be.

I know I have been all over the place but let’s return to the whole lightbringer Lucifer now. So remember Dad when he gets angry. He is meteorologically inclined. In the family dinner and not only there we hear a thunderstorm rumbling close by, lighting ominously lit up the room in a way that Lucifer’s eyes light up in a very eerie yet calm way in many instances, in Le Mec’s case included.

There was always something brewing in Lucifer so when he gets to Heaven, with the same attributes Dad had and to a very different level, Lucifer experiences a metamorphosis. Now Mum and Dad didn’t have physical bodies but Lucifer did. Dad as well Mum in S5 provided us with a manifestation of a human body but they were not born in a flesh like celestial body like their kids did. So when Lucifer gets in heaven he is experiencing what Mum did in S2, he bled light but in a place of souls not on the earthly plane.

Again Lucifer’s body changes but he is not a ‘flesh sack’ as Mum puts it like Charlotte’s body was in S2 for Mum. He is still Lucifer that’s still his body but when Lucifer gets to Heaven he makes a choice again not just a throne to save humanity but his own life which of course leads us to the passage of the Revelation. 

In the end, Chloe was the key and fuel for the coal to lit up to a full blazing fire. Not bad :) I mean he lit up Heaven long before he took off his ring ;) 

“I choose you, I love you”

Michael, the Dragon & the ‘Virgin Mary’. But that’s a meta for another time, one that I have written in the S&S but will be updated for S6.

“And no matter how badly you want to nudge them in the right direction You know they need to find it on their own.”

[ecccentrick]

Jaskier Should Really Listen To Geralt pt. 2

Pt.1 || Pt. 3 || Ao3

This is my last writing post here, since I now have a writing blog @eccentrick-ramblings. Prompts and requests are open.  

--

Jaskier had many talents. He could sing, write, dance, play multiple instruments, and was something of a scholar, if did say so himself. But one talent that was known but was hardly spoken of in polite company was the one that was going to get him out of this situation alive. 

He was going to slut it up.

Making himself relax back into the bed, he slid one of his hands through the monster’s thick hair, humming as though content with the current state of things. The creature’s hand of steel relaxed minutely against Jaskier’s stomach and he forced himself not to take a shuddering breath, instead breathing from his diaphragm. 

“So you’re one of those, huh?” Jaskier asked, letting his voice go slightly rough. 

The monster stiffened. 

“Of what?”

Jaskier widened his legs. The beast nestled deeper between them, his whole upper body splaying across Jaskier’s. He tried not to take that as the threat it surely was. 

Turning his head so that his lips brushed against the monster’s ear at every syllable, he said, “Hm, one of those men who enjoys roleplay of the, uh, should I say, unconventional sort? Can’t say I’ve come across too many, but I’m always willing to give things a try.”

The beast pulled back from Jaskier’s neck to stare into his eyes, like he was going to ask if Jaskier was truly that dumb and horny. And Jaskier could hear Geralt’s reply in his mind, yes. 

Wait. Geralt.

Shit.

Okay, so Jaskier had a new idea. He wouldn’t just deescalate the situation like previously planned, stall until Geralt came back empty handed and frustrated. Jaskier would actually have to save himself this time. And, now that he thought about it, the rest of the residents of the inn. 

He was beginning to realize why Geralt was so crotchety all the damn time.

Something in the monster’s eyes changed, a dawning understanding and anticipation. It was feral and raw and Jaskier met it with one of his own, shifting his hips up. He almost had it. 

With one hand still in its hair, he trailed the other up its torso, gently touching its sides, before getting to its shoulder blades, fingertips clenching the muscle and bone there, digging his fingernails in hard enough that if it were a human, there would surely be marks left behind. 

“What is it you have in mind?” The beast slurred his words, despite having only one watered down ale that evening. 

The hand holding Jaskier down raised up, higher and higher, until it came around his neck, a soft shackle. His heart beat double time, and he sucked in a breath that he could still blessedly take, for now. 

His mind blanked for a few seconds, because, to be completely honest, this beast was hitting all of Jaskier’s buttons. If this man were a human, they would surely get up to some great fun. Jaskier couldn’t stop himself from thinking about Geralt. Geralt leaning over him, Geralt holding him down, Geralt’s calloused and scarred hand around his neck, holding him in place, stealing his breath. 

Without having the feign a moan, Jaskier said, “Well, why don’t you chase me?” he dug his nails in deeper. “Capture me. Hunt me down.”

The beast sucked in a harsh breath and Jaskier knew he had him, once and for all. Better or for worse. 

“Perhaps I should give you a head start?” the monster asked. “But you’d have to be quiet, not wake anyone up. Wouldn’t want anyone to be in the crosshairs of a hunt, now would you?”

--

The creaking of the stairs almost did him in. 

The innkeeper had muted the lights in the dining area, leaving them only bright enough to cast shadows and create a sense of unease. Or perhaps that was because he had a beast after him, coming for his blood. Literally. 

He tried to move quietly. The steps creaked. That small sound, so inconsequential, made him realize all that was at stake. The innkeeper, who now most likely slept in the kitchen so her guests could have the rooms, the father and child that were staying in the room next to his, and the orange cat that liked to slink around guests' ankles...their lives were all in jeopardy, and only Jaskier being a good little lamb to slaughter might save them.

What the beast didn’t know was that the lamb intended to lead it to its end. 

He opened the door slowly, silently. Fresh air filled his lungs, crisp and cool. The moon was high in the sky, lighting the way for Jaskier, his socked feet kicking up dust as he went from a slow creep to a desperate sprint in a span of seconds. 

The village was close to a forest, and knowing it was the best place for cover, Jaskier ran for it. Once treetops came overhead, he stopped for a quick breather and to orient himself. 

Geralt always told Jaskier what direction he’d be going in on any hunt. It wasn’t always that way; the bard searching and finding an overdosed witcher next to a dead leshen after he failed to arrive back at the tavern set that to rights. Luckily Jaskier had memorized Geralt’s potions long ago, or he’d be dead and buried. 

Geralt had told him he was heading southwest, which was. . .which way was it? He was fucked, wasn’t he? And not even by a deathless death like all scandalous bards want to go out. 

“Okay, let’s see. Eeny, meene, miny. . .moe! This way then.” 

He dashed in that direction, heading deeper into the woods. He ran until his legs burned, until the wagon roads gave way to deer tracks, until there was nothing but trees, brush and silence. Not even an owl dared to hoot. The monster was here coming for him. 

Jaskier took a deep breath, filling his lungs to their capacity. And then, in that creepy quiet, he screamed. 

“GERALT! GERALT! GERALLLT IT’S AFTER MEEEE!” 

Waiting only a beat, Jaskier continued his flight. There was no sign of the grumpy witcher, and he just gave away his ruse. Perhaps the fear had addled his mind. He should’ve been sneakier, hid in a hollow tree stump, or something. Taken his perfume bottle with him and doused a trail of potent fragrance behind each step. But, then, the monster could follow that too. Hell, even a particularly observant human would’ve been able to trace him; he always bought the strong stuff. 

“DAMMIT!”

He was soon lost, hopelessly and completely. The lights from the village had long since dimmed and he didn’t know which way was the way back. At least if the monster got to him, the others might be spared until Geralt could find it and kill it. His death wouldn’t be in vain. Perhaps he’d even become a local hero. 

A branch to his left cracked. A rustling, then a growl. Footsteps, and then the monster revealed himself, moving from shadows and into the moonlight. It was a great entrance, the bard had to give him that. Points for the dramatics. At the very least, Jaskier wouldn’t die a boring death. 

“It’s as I thought. You were running to your witcher. I’d be angry, but that’ll make this more interesting.”

Jaskier grit his teeth. “You’re awfully arrogant for a monster in the sights of a witcher. The White Wolf. You’ll be dead by morning and Geralt and I will be walking the Path again.”

The beast came closer, his steps measured and sure. Suddenly, he was at Jaskier’s side, a hand at his delicate neck and another on his right shoulder. Back, back, back the monster pushed him, until he hit the nearest tree, bark digging into his exposed neck. He squeezed Jaskier’s neck, bringing a wheeze from the bard’s lips.

“Why. . .” the hand tightened and the longing to cough almost made him gag, “Why me?” 

“Because of your blood, it smells so rare, so fine. None of these backwater hicks taste of anything but the dirt under my boots. But you. . .such fresh nectar.”

“Th-That’s a little insulting,” he took a harsh gulp of air, and it whistled in his throat. “That you- only - wanted me - my blood - not my - da-dashing good-”

“Enough, Jaskier. Save your breath.”

 “G-Ger-”

His back, once against rough bark, was now against a hard chest. And there was that band of steel around his neck. Air fought to get into his lungs, and his voice demanded to be heard but he couldn’t talk, couldn’t make the words form on his lips. Eyes bulged and the skin of his face heated. He was being strangled, and instead of a thoughtless tumor it was at the will of someone who chose to steal his breath until he had none left. 

Soft hands tore against steel. Feet dug into earth, kicked and scrambled, never meeting anything solid besides the ground. Reason fled his mind, and he was just a vessel. A vessel that wanted free. 

“Jaskier, stay calm!” Geralt’s voice reached his ears, echoing. Oh, there was still some hope. He might survive. 

“So I see that you’re a coward,” Geralt said. 

Jaskier was about to be offended until the beast spoke. 

“You’re trying to appeal to my ego. You do care for this bard, then?” 

Geralt was all wobbly and misty, like he was made of liquid bones. His eyes were black, veins a dark gray. Jaskier tried to squint, rapidly blink, but he wouldn’t stay put, wouldn’t go back to normal. 

His throat ached. 

“Let the bard go. He played his part of the bait, now let him go and we can end this. You...you hunt and kill the weak and expect not to be confronted? Take a hostage, a meat shield. Pathetic and cowardly.” 

“I don’t think I’m going to do that. I’m probably all of those things, now that I think about it, and I don’t rightly care. Now, can’t you see I’m celebrating a holiday? The moon is full.”

“Higher vampire. Shit.”

The vampire laughed and that’s when things got fuzzy for Jaskier. He wanted to come out of his skin, wanted to be able to see clearly. His heart felt like it wanted to gallop out of his chest and race Roach. 

“You know what? I’ll just save this for later.”

A prickling sensation started at his side and spread, tendrils of numbness. It quickly became a burning feeling and with it came air, blessed air. The ground met his body. The steel band was gone.

He took a few moments to catch his breath. Each gulp of air felt like swallowing hot coals, his lungs screaming. Once clarity disrupted the fog over Jaskier’s mind he trailed a shaking hand to his side. It came back sticky with blood. He glanced up and saw the vampire lick long, protruding claw-like nails.

In the wise words of Geralt of Rivia, fuck. 

[split-n-splice]

Sometimes those who are bad do good while those who are good do bad with good intentions. A kidnapping and a brief encounter between villain wannabe and a hero-to-be.

Pre-Team Go. Just thinking about origins and adjusting to new powers. I fancy the idea that Drakken and Shego go “way back.”

Chapters: 3 Words: 12k Warnings: violence, language (Updated with revised version Feb, 2020!)

[Chapter Guide]

Chapter 1

Save for the rhythm of her own breath and the hum of a fluorescent she’d grown deaf to, her chambers had been dead silent for hours on end until the lull was broken by the long-awaited click of the lock and the quiet swish of the door opening.

“Subject B?” came the wavering call of an uncertain man.

The teenager’s lip almost quirked into a smirk. Almost. Fresh meat, she thought wryly.

Her arms were bent uncomfortably over her head, shielding her eyes from the infinite light above as she lay on her cot. For quite some time now, she’d had nothing better to do other than sleep until she ached and then some. If only sleep was easy to come by.

The footsteps neared. “I’m your, uhm. Psychiatrist.” He waited. She’d leave him hanging, she decided. “Hello? Are you awake?” Another moment passed. The footsteps began to retreat, and she heard him mutter impatiently to himself, “I must be in the wrong sector.”

The girl sat upright then with great exertion, lifting a heavy cast over her head. She slumped forward and glowered down to her hands secured and bound together in the slipshod plaster cocoon before squinting up against the searing white light as a man in a crisp blue suit came into focus.

“M’name’s not Subject B,” she rasped, voice hoarse from thirst and lack of use. A far more interesting glass of water on the homey little nightstand beside her cot drew her attention away from the stranger, reminding her how parched she was. She’d been encouraged to break her strike for a while now – she’d lost count of the days she’d been on it, honestly – and though she was presently hooked to an IV to treat dehydration, she was still holding fast to her conditions: let her go or she’d find a way to self-destruct. So far the tactic wasn’t working.

Her visitor said something she didn’t catch – the damn water had her fixated. She could have – should have – knocked it over hours ago, or maybe days ago, but what if another glass never came—?

The girl shook her head and tore her eyes away from the tempting glass. She scrunched her nose as if smelling something foul as she studied the spectacled man again. “You look too young to be a psychiatrist,” she deadpanned. “Mommy still do your laundry? Looks like she dresses you too.”

Something she said must have struck a nerve. “Listen, you snot-nosed little brat—” the man began, but she lurched to her feet. The wobble of her knees couldn’t have been threatening but her glare must have done something. She liked to think so anyway.

“This snot-nosed little brat left yesterday’s psychiatrist’s face looking like a Picasso,” she hissed venomously, and raised her trapped hands a little as evidence before dropping them. “So watch your mouth.” She couldn’t do much to him in her present state, but he seemed on edge just enough for threats alone to be sufficient.

When she took a step forward, IV stand scooting along with her, the man took a step back. Her eyes darted to the floor. She almost smiled, but he was talking again. “Is that what that is about?” He gestured with his clipboard to her bound hands. “Why?”

The girl arched her brow at the perplexed inquiry. There wasn’t an inkling of sarcasm. She looked down to the plaster keeping her primary means of defense at bay. She was sure she could burn the cast off, but not without burning herself again in the process. Her skin was already raw and blistered from earlier attempts to burn her way to freedom. Having a go at her last doctor had been the last straw. They’d said the improvised cast was only a temporary quick fix. They’d said it was to keep her from hurting herself, like a cone on a dog – but that had been a load. The burns lacing her palms and knuckles might have gotten the attention they needed if she weren’t so obstinate, but she’d hardly let anyone near enough to check on her in days.

She’d been a lab rat under observation for months – ever since the organization holding her in custody had caught wind of something extraterrestrial practically leveling her neighborhood. She hadn’t been compliant with their studies.

The snapping of fingers made her blink. An almost concerned look crossed the man’s face. He was stupid enough to take a step closer. He opened his mouth to repeat the question but she cut him off.

“If you’d read my file, you would know what it’s for.” She narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion as he scrambled to flip through the scant pages on his clipboard. “There was even a hazard sign posted outside the door, last I saw.”

“I – uh – I’m just making small talk. Of course, I’ve read your file,” he said, a tentative smile quivering.

The girl glanced to the floor again, to the painted red caution line marking the boundary behind him, and a second marking a boundary through the center of the barren room between them, her own personal invisible fence. If he was a stuttering idiot because he was scared, he would have taken the proper precautions when confronting her. She did the math. Something didn’t add up right. “Then you wouldn’t have crossed the line,” she stated in a quiet mutter, eyes fixating on the particular warning line three steps behind him. Personnel without guards were unauthorized to cross it, and as of yet, no doctor had even risked seeing her alone.

Dragging the IV stand behind her, she approached the center of the room, the invisible barrier clear only to her. The tingle of a thick mechanical collar around her throat became noticeable, heating up in warning.

“Line?” uttered the young man, face scrunching as he looked down and all around. By the time he’d noticed them, the warning lines, the sound of her hacking something made his spectacled eyes snap back to her.

She really didn’t want to encourage being muzzled too, but she was in a bad mood. Without pausing to think twice, she spat what could only be described as a plasma loogie his way. The man leapt back with a startled yelp, both disgusted and frightened as the green flame bubbled and burned itself out in a tiny pit in the linoleum. Her throat burned like she’d swallowed a hot coal and she choked on the aftertaste, but it had been worth it for the look on the stranger’s face.

Her eyes watered. The glass of water had never been more tempting. “How’s that for snot-nosed, huh?” she coughed, caught between laughter and choking. She smiled wider than she had in days, or maybe weeks. How long had she been here? Long enough for her hair to grow back long enough to tickle her ears again. She didn’t want to think about it.

She focused her heated glare back on the livid man, who now stood a safe distance out of her spitting range marked clearly in the floor by a dozen other divots and of course the red paint. “Why, you little!” he seethed, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth.

“You’re not the shrink they sent to get inside my head,” she decided, making her way back to her cot. “So who are you?” Talking was getting to be too exhausting, but she could use some relief from the monotony of this hell of solitary confinement. They’d tried to give her a television and other enrichment, but that had been one of the things she’d fired at that had gotten her hands bound up. They kept telling her to behave and cooperate like Subjects A and C and they’d let her go in no time – but she had her doubts and had become increasingly volatile since this had all started a month or two or three or more ago. She didn’t even know if her brothers had really been released or if something worse had befallen them. She hadn’t seen them since they were put into custody for observation.

The man said something else she didn’t catch as she flopped down in her cot and instantly regretted doing so a little bit, the jolt making her body ache ever more and the IV tug in her arm. She leaned awkwardly on her elbows to study the glass at eye level, resting her chin on the nightstand. She had the worst case of heartburn right now. Her eyes stung.

She expected the man to be done with this session and leave to tattle on her for spitting acid at him. To at least take some notes if he was, in fact, her new psychiatrist. Something.

But after a moment and a thoughtful hum, his footsteps neared instead, crossing the warning line again.

The girl twisted around to glare back incredulously at him. He held the clipboard under his arm and was fidgeting with something with an antenna in his palm. “Why don’t we take a little walk, Subject B?” he suggested.

She thought she recognized what he held but she wasn’t sure, maybe it was just a radio or—

“No thanks, I’m good,” she said quickly, scrambling to her knees and pressing herself into the farthest corner, folding her legs up to her chest. Her heart started to pound.

What was this sketchy doctor playing at? He must realize he was playing with fire. Was he brave or just stupid?

She tried to swallow as he approached but she was too parched. She couldn’t even draw upon the green alien fire to spit in defense this time.

In the back of her mind, the state of her dress became a concern and she squeezed her legs tighter to her chest. A dress – that was all they gave her – a dress and nothing else, no shoes, no underwear, just the bare necessity to keep her decent. Suddenly the dress didn’t concern her anymore. Pants never warded off grubby hands much anyway, she supposed.

Flight wasn’t an option. Fight kicked in.

The man had a lot of gall to reach down for her, but she kicked out at him, targeting his groin but her heel making contact with his stomach instead. It knocked the wind out of him at least, and for a split second she fancied the thought of cracking the cast open like a coconut on his stupid head – but he was recovering too soon, and frankly she was too exhausted from malnutrition to fight a grown man, even a sort of scrawny one like him.

He glared hard down at her and held up the device to wiggle mockingly. She blanched. It was exactly what she’d thought it was – it went to the damned obedience collar locked around her neck to keep her under control for those special occasions she went batshit. It even kept her behind the invisible barrier. He must have seen the fear flicker in her eyes because he grinned maliciously.

Her stomach turned.

“You know, it’s funny,” he ground out, not particularly amused as he stood back and held the device out of reach when she lunged for it, forgetting for a second that she couldn’t grab at things in this state. His hand on her head was enough to hold her at bay. She could have bitten him. She wanted to. She scowled instead and threw herself back against the wall, legs tucked tight again. “When I stole it, I thought this was the remote to the inexhaustible nuclear weapon I heard rumor of Global Justice obtaining. It goes to something alright, but I’m not sure about the weapon being inexhaustible. Or nuclear. Hm.”

He studied the remote as if it determining the ripeness of a piece of fruit in a produce aisle, and then looked back down at her. “Oh well,” he sang, idly spinning a knob of settings like some sort of wheel of misfortune that made her heart thunder. “I suppose it still functions for the intended purpose, but I wasn’t expecting the weapon to be some kid.”

The sick bastard was just plain taunting her now. “I’m a freshman,” she snapped. Or at least she was supposed to be.

She didn’t have time to argue about it, bracing herself again to thrash when the questionable doctor stooped over her a second time.

The man was wrestling her for her arms now. “Don’t be a pill! I’m as displeased about this as you are,” the man assured her unsympathetically.

She tried screaming, even though she knew her chances of getting any help were slim to none. She’d already cried wolf countless hours before – so any guards in the area were desensitized to her screams and whoever was on monitor duty must be napping on the clock or there would have been an intervention by now.

“What are you doing?” she squawked, writhing and kicking, but her weak legs were useless in prying off her assailant.

“You don’t need this where we’re going. Just – ow! Stop that!”

A headbutt only dealt her more harm than him. She was dazed just long enough for him to get a grip on her, and she nearly resumed her thrashing again until she realized his target was the IV in her arm. She went rigid then. She wasn’t keen on having it simply ripped out. She hadn’t eaten in days but she felt like puking when she finally surrendered, if only for the moment. Pressing her face to the wall, she squeezed her eyes shut against the sight. It didn’t help knowing he was holding the remote carelessly between his teeth now as he worked to remove the catheter – she didn’t want to think about the voltage burns that could be inflicted by the accidental press of a button.

The vinegar breath and entire weight of his presence backed off suddenly, the foreign object dislodged from her flesh as well. She stared at the little piece of gauze taped over the site, a dot of blood blooming already.

“Now,” said the man with an exhausted huff of frustration as he stood back from her. He tried to smooth his hair back into place and pointed the remote at the door. “How about that walk?” His eyes narrowed at her bare feet as the cautious girl put them on the floor. “I don’t suppose you have any shoes—?”

“No.”

“Huh. You know, you’d really think they’d be more hospitable than that,” he uttered, stupefied for a second. She didn’t have a chance to ask him to clarify who they were. The man shook his head then and shuffled away, fidgeting with the controller and then aiming it back at her.

The girl tensed when she saw his thumb hover over the control pad and heard the tiny beep.

She waited.

There was no electric shock, no heat, no choking – nothing they’d used against her to get her under control when typical civilized methods failed.

There was, however, the sudden absence of a barely-perceivable vibration she’d grown numb to.

She started to reach for her throat, blinking in surprise, but remembered about her plaster-bound hands and dropped them. She stretched her jaw instead and tried to swallow, readjusting to the missing sensation. “Would feel better if it was off,” she rasped.

The sketchy doctor was leaned out the door, peeking into the hall. He scoffed as he looked back at her incredulously. “I don’t think so.”

“Can’t blame me for trying,” she sighed.

“Let’s go, Subject B.”

“I have a name.”

He sighed impatiently and rolled his wrist at her in encouragement. “Then what is it?” he demanded in a hiss.

No question about it. Her eyes narrowed at the phony doctor’s back as she followed two steps behind him down the blinding white halls. “Are you kidding me?” she balked. “It’s on my paperwork.” She knew that much, even if she hadn’t been called by name in months. And in any case, phony or not, he should have at least known what he was targeting.

“Yes, well, I didn’t read them, so—”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Of course you didn’t. You’re not a real doctor.”

“Am too.”

“Are not.”

“You little sh— shush!” he snipped under his breath, whirling on her. He might have poked her in the chest with a sharp finger if she was standing any closer, but instead he jabbed at the air. “I demand you behave yourself and act natural. Don’t make me use the, the uh—” He waved the device menacingly. “This.”

“Obedience collar,” she supplied. The young man glowered, nostrils flaring, holding his tongue. She sighed, shoulders sagging. “Whatever. I’ll play along.” It should be pretty fun when he got busted and it sure beat sitting around doing nothing for another day, she decided.

“Thank you,” he said, spinning back around.

A couple minutes passed as she followed the man through twisting corridors and security doors that took a mere sweep of a card to open. It was soon clear he’d lost his sense of direction by his frown. “You don’t know what you’re doing, do you?” she whispered behind him, making him jump. “You didn’t think this through at all.”

“I – I did too,” he hissed back. His hands flailed in the air, gesturing at her in frustration. “I just wasn’t expecting – augh!” He bit back a curse and skulked ahead, hands still flapping. “You were supposed to be a thing. Like a gun or something.”

“Sorry I’m inconvenient.” She rolled her eyes. “What do you plan to do with me?”

The man glared over his shoulder and swiped his pass card again. “Keep moving.”

She wasn’t one to be rushed, and certainly not by a bumbling idiot. He looked about ready to throw her over his shoulder to speed things up, but she doubted he had the muscle to do so. Then again, she’d lost quite a bit of weight recently. She was probably as light as an armful of kindling by now. She certainly felt like a walking stick anyway.

Following the stupid black mop ahead of her became the only thing keeping her legs moving, like following the white rabbit down the rabbit hole. She was zoning out again, the man’s complaints never quite reaching her ears. Every once in a while, the sketchy young doctor looked back to frown at her or wave the remote in threat, and his grip wrapped around her arm at one point to all but drag her along when she paused to rest.

They passed legitimate personnel, typical doctors and science geeks in white lab coats, in the hall at one point, and she was vaguely aware of the intruder beside her straightening up and fixing his pokerface. Act natural. Whatever that meant. She walked along, feet dragging on the cold linoleum, like the prisoner she was, on her way to whatever destination her phony doctor had prescribed for her.

And then they were outside. The hot air hit her like a wall, every fiber of her being soaking up the evening sunlight. She had to stop to enjoy the moment, even if the blacktop was searing hot underfoot. It was nothing compared to the fire she’d been burdened with.

She was being manhandled again, shoved into a car and pushed down to the floorboard. “Hide there until I give the all-clear,” the phony doctor instructed, throwing his jacket down at her face. She got the hint. She was being smuggled out. She had her doubts how well it would work, and almost voiced her criticism from beneath the cover when she heard a spoken exchange above.

She held her breath. Crouching beneath a glovebox like some sort of lumpy painfully-obvious frog had to be one of the stupidest things she’d done, but it was too late to suggest the trunk as a better hiding place.

Moments after the brief chat with the gatekeeper, there was a light rap against her head and she climbed out of the cranny, collapsing back into the passenger seat and heaving a sigh from all the exertion.

“So what flavor of hell does my new captor have for me?” she wondered idly, head lolling to study the man. “Rape, murder, desecration – the standard procedure? Wow me already. Say something. Cripes you’re boring. You’re not very good at kidnapping.”

He pushed his glasses back up his button nose, grimaced, and shook his head. He was chewing on something he didn’t want to say.

As they hit the highway, he almost commanded she put on her seatbelt, but she held up her bound hands before he could finish the word, and he groaned, reaching over to fumble for it himself to stretch over her awkwardly.

“Thanks,” she said dryly.

He only grunted in reply.

She slumped uncomfortably against the window, the vibration of the wheels covering ground soon lulling her effortlessly to dreamland.

[leahlisabeth]

37 for andreil!! 💕

Thanks for prompting! I had a lot of fun with this one!

This also can be found on AO3!

“Why did I let you talk me into this anyway?” Andrew grumbled as he stumbled into yet another patch of muddy ground.  His feet were heavy from the mud coating the soles and he practically had to change his gait to accommodate for it.  When they started out he had scraped the mud off on the trees every time but he was no beyond fed up.

“I’ve never been camping,” Neil said.  “And Nicky couldn’t bear the thought of me missing another ‘essential growing up memory.’” 

Andrew groaned.  He was going to kill Nicky.  First, for teaching Neil about air quotes.  Second, for teaching Neil about FOMO.  Third, for ruining Andrew’s favourite boots.  “Are we almost there?”

Neil consulted the map, brow furrowed.  “I think so?  I think Nicky drew this himself and it’s not exactly to scale.”

Andrew trudged up beside Neil and snatched the map.  It was definitely hand drawn and it made almost zero sense.

“I think that’s the rock outcropping we just passed and I’ve been keeping the stream on our left.  It should be just over this hill,” Neil explained.

“If it isn’t, we’re going back.  Fuck camping!” Andrew said, pushing on ahead.

Neil caught up right away because somehow he had managed to miss the worst of the mud so he wasn’t dragging another fifty pounds on the soles of his feet.

They reached the top of the hill and saw the end of the trail.  Nicky had borrowed Matt’s truck and it was parked by a small pit and three tents were set up around the perimeter of the clearing.  Nicky was perched on a log by the fire, setting up a spit to roast the fish in the basket beside him.  Andrew marched over to his cousin and placed his hands around his neck.

“Andrew, you made...erk,” Nicky choked as his airway was almost closed off.

“Why did we have to hike in when clearly we could have driven?” Andrew asked dangerously.

Nicky wheezed. “Not enough room for everyone.  Neil’s camping experience.”

“I’ll show you camping experience,” Andrew growled.

“Andrew,” Erik’s mild voice came from the door of one of the tents.  “Can you maybe wait to kill my fiance until after I’ve married him?” 

Neil caught up and dragged Andrew away, laughing.  “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

“I mind.” Andrew glared back at his cousin.  “I mind very much.”

Neil leaned in close.  “I’ll make it up to you later.”  Promise coloured his voice and Andrew could feel himself blushing.

“Fine,” Andrew growled.  “I won’t kill him so long as he remembered to bring stuff for s’mores.”

“What do you take me for?” Nicky asked.  “I promised Neil a classic camping experience.  I brought like five bags of marshmallows.”

Andrew nodded.  “You’ve earned yourself a stay of execution but you’re on thin fucking ice.”

“Which tent is ours?” Neil asked.

“Yours is there,” Nicky gestured to the one on the right.  “Katelyn and Aaron are on the left and Erik and I are in the center.”

“Where is Aaron, anyway?” Neil asked.

“He and Katelyn went to check out the swimming hole.  If you value your eyes, I suggest you not join them,” Erik said, coming to join them by the fire.

Neil flushed red and didn’t argue.  He didn’t say anything to Aaron when they returned, flushed and dripping wet with buttons mismatched and hair in wild tangles.

Supper was okay.  Erik had caught plenty of fish for all of them and Nicky was surprisingly good at preparing them over the campfire.  They were crisp on the outside but melted on the tongue.  He’d also wrapped some potatoes in foil and baked them over the coals.  

The sun was going down, turning the sky to pink and orange flame and Nicky rummaged around in the bed of the truck, coming out with a couple grocery bags full of marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers.

Aaron showed Neil how to find a good straight green stick and peel off all the bark.  Andrew watched too.  He had only had s’mores once, when Cass and Richard had taken him camping for Labor Day weekend.  They had their own metal sticks for roasting and he had never had to find his own.  It had been a good weekend, one of the last before Drake had started coming home to visit.

The first marshmallow he roasted burst into flame.  He managed to blow it out before it got completely charred.  The sticky sweetness was a little bitter from the burnt sugar and the inside was still solid because it had cooked too fast but it was still delicious with the warm chocolate and the graham cracker.

Neil tried one.  He managed about half before he fed the rest of it to Andrew.  Andrew’s next marshmallow was more even and he was sudden;y grateful for a boyfriend who didn’t enjoy sweets because even though Neil was not interested in eating more s’mores, he was thrilled by the challenge of roasting a perfect golden brown marshmallow and Andrew could stuff himself with his own and with Neil’s.

After a while, long before all the marshmallows were gone, Andrew sat back and tossed his stick into the fire.  His stomach was heavy and full, lips still sticky from marshmallow.  Neil copied him and leaned back, a solid weight at his side.  Andrew turned his head to look over at Neil.  Neil’s expression was soft and he carefully leaned forward and kissed him.

“Mmm, tastes better that way,” Neil grinned cheekily.

Nicky squealed from across the fire and Neil jumped away.

Andrew glared at Nicky, who had to grace to look sorry.

“Let’s tell ghost stories!” Nicky said, rubbing his hands together gleefully.

A chorus of groans sounded around the campfire.

“Nicky, why?” Aaron asked.

“Neil? Have you ever heard ghost stories around a campfire?” Nicky asked.

“Uh...no…” Neil said slowly.

“Well there you have it.  Authenticity is key.” Nicky stood and dug through his bag for the flashlight.  “I’ll go first.”

Neil settled back in at Andrew’s side now that the attention was off of him once more.

“It happened in a place much like this.  The forest was old and dark, full of forgotten spaces.  A little girl lived on the edge of the forest in a tiny house with her mother and father and big sister.  The older girl despised her younger sister.  She had been happy before she came along to steal her parents love.

“One night, the little girl was sleeping soundly when her older sister came in and carried her away.  She carried her for hours until the last light from nearby towns disappeared from the sky and the last sound from any road faded into the distance and no path but her own footsteps marred the ground beneath her feet.  She laid her sister at the foot of an old oak tree and silently slipped away, covering her trail behind her.

“When the little girl woke, she was alone.  There was no sound but the birds and the whispering of wind through the trees.  There was no light but the stars.  She tried to find her way home but she was too far away and she kept going around in circles until she wound up back at the beginning at the foot of the old oak tree.

“She sat down and wept and the cold stole her breath and time stole her life and no one came looking here for this one little lost girl.

“The spirit of the oak tree took pity on her.  He grew a blanket of moss to cover her.  He sent out tendrils from his roots to wind around her limbs and make her dance in the light of the moon.  He whispered to her trapped soul and fanned the flames of her anger until they burned bright and all she dreamed of was revenge on her big sister who had wronged her.

“The story would end here if her sister were smart enough to stay away.  But she crept back the next summer to see the place her little sister lay but she did not find a body, she found a little girl dressed in green, leaves through her hair, and an unnatural light burning in her eyes, dancing in the moonlight.

“Sister,” the little girl cried.  “You’ve returned to dance with me!”

“The big sister turned to run but it was too late.  The little girl ran after her and wound her arms around her, hugging her tight and forcing the breath from her body.  The oak tree clothed her too after her death and now both of them dance on nights the moon is full.   They will not bother you unless they sense that you have been cruel to your own flesh and blood, like not listening to his great ideas or having a bad attitude when he tries to do something nice.  If they look into your heart and see your cruelty, they’ll bind you too and turn you into a puppet…”

“What the fuck, Nicky?” Aaron interrupted.  

“Cruelty includes interrupting your cousin’s ghost story,” Nicky said primly.

Andrew scooped up a few pine cones from the ground and began tossing them into Nicky’s hair.  Neil giggled breathlessly at his side.

“I don’t know why I even bother,” Nicky muttered.

“Is that supposed to be fun?” Neil asked.

Nicky threw up his hands and dragged Erik to his feet.  “Come, my love, we’re going to take a walk in the moonlight.  Leave these assholes to stew in their bad attitudes.”

Erik wrapped his arms around Nicky from behind and whispered in his ear.  Nicky giggled and willingly led the way into the dark.

Aaron rolled his eyes and he and Katelyn went into their tent.  Andrew could hear them talking and laughing in low tones but he couldn’t hear what was being said.

He and Neil were left alone to sit by the fire.

“What do you think of camping?” Andrew finally asked.

“Some of it’s nice,” Neil said.  “I like having a fire and the food was good.  The few times I’ve slept outside, we were staying in the car and we didn’t dare light a fire to give away our position.  It was old gas station snacks and dressing in every piece of clothing we owned and still shivering until we could get back on the road.”

“Your life is a fucking tragedy,” Andrew said, rubbing his hand carefully up and down Neil’s side.

Neil grinned at him wickedly.  “But I’m not so sure about this whole ghost thing.  I’m so scared.  Hold me.”

Andrew found himself suddenly holding a lapful of warm and willing Neil.  “Ghosts aren’t real, for God’s sake!”  But he tightened his arms around Neil anyway.

“I’m glad I have a big strong man to protect me,” Neil said, leaning close.

Andrew could see exactly what Neil wanted and he wanted it too.  He caught Neil’s mouth in a deep kiss.  Maybe camping wasn’t so bad after all.

“Stop your gross flirting!” Aaron shouted from his tent, breaking up their kiss.  “I can hear every word.”

Neil laughed and instead of returning to the hot and searing kiss, he lay his head on Andrew’s shoulders.  They both watched the stars.

[goforwardgreenwriter-blog]

The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 32 - 33

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Aedion had been up half the night, debating the merits of every possible place to meet his father.

I am such a sucker for good parent/child relationships in fiction (extra bonus points if it’s adopted parents/child relationship) but honestly Assdion needs to stay the fuck away.

Beforehand Assdion put Lysandra to bet after she shifted back from some other form.

[Aedion] flipped back the crisp cotton sheets with one hand and then laid [Lysandra] down, her once-again long hair covering her high, firm breasts. So much smaller than the ones he’d first seen her with. He didn’t care what size they were—they were beautiful in both forms.

Uhhh does SJM not get how creepy this sounds? Lysandra is asleep and Aedion is staring at her boobs thinking about how beautiful they are?? God damnit SJM just stick to erotica if your characters are gonna be horny 24/7.

Lysandra made [Aedion] change out of his dirty travel clothes, barged into Aelin and Rowan’s room wearing no more than her own bedsheet, and took whatever she wanted from the Fae Prince’s armoire. Aelin’s barked Get out! was likely heard from across the bay, and Lysandra was smirking with feline wickedness as she returned, chucking the green jacket and pants at him.

This sounds like the beginning of a college fic where all the characters live in the same dorm. Not a fucking epic fantasy series constantly compared to LOTR. Tolkien must be rolling in his grave.

Dorian stirred, a cool breeze fluttering in as if his magic awoke as well, squinted at them both, then at the clock atop the mantel.

WHAT. Is this a medieval settings or not? The characters all use swords and bow and arrows and there’s hints of medieval Britain monarchies everywhere but the characters have clocks? What is this word building?

Gods, the females in his court ate more than [Aedion] did.

This is prompted after Lysandra eats breakfast. After we have already been told she burns a lot of energy with her shape shifting. Go fuck yourself, Assdion.

Aedion opened the door, finding the cadre precisely where he’d guessed they’d be at this hour: eating breakfast in the taproom. The two males halted as they entered. And Aedion’s eyes went right to the golden-haired man—one of two, but … there was no denying which one was … his.

I am actually so stressed. Either A) Aedion is gonna act like a dick to his poor father and be treated as right for it, or B) SJM is gonna turn Gav into a dick just so Aedion can angst over his daddy issues. Place your bets, folks.

“You look … ,” Gavriel breathed, sinking into his chair. “You look so much like her [Aedion’s mom].”

HHHHH SJM STOP I HATE THIS SHITTY BOOK AND ASSDION I DON’T WANT THESE FEELS....

“They could have cured [mama Aedion] in the Fae compounds, but she wouldn’t go near them, wouldn’t let them come for fear of Maeve”—[Aedion] spat the name—“knowing I existed. For fear I’d be enslaved to her as you were.”

I wish Assdion’s mom could’ve been a character, but nope, gotta kill off potentially awesome characters for the sake of main character pain. I know that’s just a thing that happens in 95% of stories at this point, but SJM literally only brings these dead characters up once or twice and it has no other impact on her main characters or the plot.

“I’m sorry,” his father said, those Lion’s eyes full of such grief Aedion wondered if he’d just struck a male already down. “I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” he said, turning toward the door.

Am I a dumb dumb, or... who the fuck is Assdion talking about? Is he talking about apologizing to.. Assdion’s mom? I’m so confused.

Assdion stomps out after his little tantrum. I mean, I understand why he’s upset, but... I need context? Was Gav forced to take the blood oath to Maeve, or was it his own choice? ‘Cause if it was the latter yeah he’s kinda a shitty dad, but if it’s the former, it’s not his fault??? This series is batshit confusing.

“We need them to work with us. I might have made an enemy of him.” [Lysandra] tucked her hair over a shoulder. “Trust me, Aedion, you have not. If you’d told him to crawl over hot coals, he would have.”

HHHH FUCK IT GAV IS A GOOD DAD..... I just feel so so sorry for him. He’s just a punching bag for everyone else. Protect Gav 2k18

He laughed, surprised he could even do so. “He’s a handsome bastard, I’ll give him that.” “I think Maeve likes to collect pretty men.” Aedion snorted. “Why not? She has to deal with them for eternity. They might as well be pleasant to look at.”

I mean a lot of those men have confirmed that they were forced to take the blood oath and are now basically slaves to her but sure, tee hee oh Maeve that slutty bitch, collecting only the hottest young men to enslave! Fuckin’ end me.

Bearing both Goldryn and Damaris for once, Aelin walked into the Sea Dragon two hours later and wished for the days when she could sleep without the dread or urgency of something pulling at her.

Greaaat, back to Alien’s POV.

A grand total of five minutes before Lysandra barged in, Rowan had awoken—and begun the process of awakening her, too. Slowly, with taunting, proprietary strokes down her bare torso, her thighs, accented with little biting kisses to her mouth, her ear, her neck.

EWWWWWWW if I wanted to read this shit, I’d go look up fanfiction. Preferably fanfiction with characters I’m endeared to and actually ship. Skip!

Gavriel and Fenrys were now sitting with Rolfe at the table in the back of the taproom, no sign of Aedion, both a bit wide-eyed as she swaggered in.

This is a nit pick but Gav/Fenrys always being described together irks me. They have the literal same reaction to everything. Like, are they doing this all in unison? Actually, that’s a pretty funny mental image.

Rowan took up a spot beside [Aelin] his knee brushing hers. Like even a few feet of distance was unbearable.

GDI. It’s a meeting. With a Pirate Lord. And all Rowboat can think about is getting his dick wet inside of Alien. I’m almost ready to tap out.

“What is this,” [Aelin] said, stabbing a finger near the main line of figures stretched across the middle of the continent. “It’s the latest report,” Rolfe drawled, “of the locations of Morath’s armies. They have moved into position. Aid to the North is now impossible. And they stand poised to strike Eyllwe.”

Ooo, action scene? Please action scene, I cannot handle any more scenes of these assholes being horny around one another.

Next chapter!

“Eyllwe has no standing army,” Aelin said, feeling the blood drain from her face. “There is nothing and no one to fight after this spring—save for rebel militia bands.”

Starts right where the last one left off, as per SJM’s protocol

Rowan said to Rolfe, “Do you have exact numbers?” “No,” the captain said. “The news was given only as a warning—to keep any shipments away from the Avery. I wanted their opinions”—a nod of the chin toward the cadre—“for handling it.“

??? Is it me or is this expression really fucking weird? Was “a nod of the head” not good enough?

“Why attack Eyllwe, though?” Fenrys asked. “And why move into position but not sack it?” [Aelin] couldn’t say the words aloud. That she’d brought this upon Eyllwe by mocking Erawan, because he knew who Celaena Sardothien had cared for, and he wanted to break her spirit, her heart, by showing her what his armies could do. What they would do, whenever he now felt like it. Not to Terrasen … but to the kingdom of the friend she’d loved so dearly.

Once again, we’re about to witness the destruction of a kingdom and all Alien cares about is her stupid feelings. Go fuck yourself Alien.

“You are the heir of the Mycenian people,” Aelin said. “And I have come to claim the debt you owe my bloodline on that account, too.” Rolfe did not move, did not blink. “Or were all the sea dragon references from some personal fetish?” Aelin asked.

SJM JUST USED THE WORD “FETISH” IN HER EPIC FANTASY SERIES. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

[Aelin] allowed a flicker of her magic to rise to the surface then, allowed the gold in her eyes to glow like bright flame. Gavriel and Fenrys straightened as her power filled the room, filled the city. The Wyrdkey between her breasts began thrumming, whispering.

I’m sorry, lovely readers, I keep ragging on about this, but holy fuck. I hate it so much. SJM wants this scene to be all epic and show what a special snowflake badass Alien is but then she undercuts all that supposed tension by drawing focus to her boobs I just. ajhdafdfagfds dj hdsa im b rea kin  g

Alien lets loose some of her power that literally shakes the world and rings bells or some shit? idk i guess its 2deep4me

“What the rutting hell was that?” Rolfe at last demanded. Fenrys and Gavriel became very interested in the map before them. Rowan said smoothly, “Milady has to release bits of her power daily or it can consume her.”

ROWBOAT CONFIRMED FOR NICE GUY HOLY SHIT

Aedion and Lysandra arrived after some time—and her cousin only spared Gavriel a passing glance as he stood over the map and fell into that general’s mindset, demanding details large and minute. But Gavriel silently stared up at his son, watching her cousin’s eyes dart over the map, listening to the sound of his voice as if it were a song he was trying to memorize.

Gav deserves a better series than this. I want to take him, Manon, Darrow, and Rolfe away so they can be at peace. How does Darrow/Gavriel sound to everyone? Pure old dads who rule their kingdom fairly, bringing peace and prosperity forward. What a lovely image.

SJM described the meeting rather than shows. It’s basically 90% everyone gushing over how powerful Alien is. Skip!

“You once said I would pay for my arrogance. And I did. Many times. But Sam and I took on your entire city and fleet and destroyed it. All for two hundred lives you deemed less than human. So perhaps I’ve been underestimating myself. Perhaps I do not need you after all.” [Aelin] turned again, and Rolfe sneered, “Did Sam die still pining after you, or did you finally stop treating him like filth?”

Dick move, maybe, but I mean... he’s not wrong. The Assassin’s Blade is literally just Alien being pissy towards Sam for no reason and then he gets angry when their master beats lAlien’s face in (you know, what any normal functioning human being would react like) and she’s suddenly frothing at the mouth to fuck him. Maybe I should review TAB next.........

Rowboat chokes Rolfe and throws him down, and everyone smirks. How are these characters adults? They’re all written like immature teenagers. Anyways, a bell rings out, signifying something bad.

Aelin watched as black - darker than the ink that had been etched there - spread across [Rolfe’s] fingers, to his palms. Black such as only the Valg could bring.

Please action scene I can’t handle one more “witty’ “banter” conversation between these assholes

The door banged open, and Rolfe’s towering figure filled it. “You.” Aelin put a hand on her chest. “Me?”

Pfft. I hated that I snickered at this, but I always laugh at the “dramatic hand on chest” joke.

“And what of your idealism—what of that child who stole two hundred slaves from me? You’d leave the people of this island to perish?” “Yes,” she said simply. “I told you, Rolfe, that Endovier taught me some things.” Rolfe swore. “Do you think Sam would stand for this?” “Sam is dead,” she said, “because men like you and Arobynn have power. But Arobynn’s reign is now over.” She smiled at the darkening horizon. “Seems like yours might end rather soon as well.”

Sam deserves better than this. He was an okay guy to my memory - not a poisonous fuck boy like Rowboat.

“Eight warships teeming with soldiers —at least a hundred on each, more on the lower levels I couldn’t see. They’re flanked by two sea-wyverns. All moving so fast that it’s like storm winds carry them.”

FUCK YEAAAH SEA DRAGONS LETS GO

Rolfe finally breaks down and agrees to join Alien’s war effort. Love it when one of the few good characters is kicked and beaten down to prop up the despicable protagonist. Then we swap to Dorian’s POV.

Aelin was insane, Dorian realized. Brilliant and wicked, but insane. And perhaps the greatest, most unremorseful liar he’d ever encountered.

Dorian, honey, you okay? Blink twice if Alien is holding you captive.

This war would not be won on smiles and manners. It would be won by a woman willing to gamble with an entire island full of people to get what she needed to save them all.

Yeah, doesn’t that make Alien likeable! I know war involves sacrifice and death but Jesus, could she feel even a little remorse? Innocent people may die today but Aelin’s head is so far up her own ass she doesn’t even care.

Fenrys kept at a distance from the others, but Gavriel remained close, his gaze still fixed on his son. Gods, they looked so much alike, moved alike, the Lion and the Wolf.

Stop ittttt Gavriel deserves better.....

Aelin tells Dorian to stay behind and the chapter ends. God, that was a lot of bullshit in two chapters.