#I have to make this happen with seraph. it’s quite literally a summary of their relationship with atlas

[werebutch]

Nobody wants oyster imagery they only want the pearl (isn’t that something..) but isn’t gently and carefully having your pearl extracted but still killing you in the process something. Isn’t it something at least. Come on. I know some oysters won’t die and some farmers will keep extracting pearls but isn’t that something too.. come onnnnnn man

[eveningstar1516]

Rise of the Demon King ~ Epilogue

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: I gotta Discord server guys! It's primarily Obey Me but other fandoms are welcome as well. It's kinda baby and dead so me and the other members are looking to revive it and we'd love for you to come join us. A roleplay area is included :) https://discord.gg/F3YEmDZCPS Please remember to read and accept the rules once you join for access to all the channels. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously:

I spent that night cuddled close to Lucifer. After I bathed, he tended to my injuries and wrapped my upper back where my top set of wings once were. We layed in bed together, Lucifer holding me protectively against him as we fell asleep to the sound of our heartbeats, beating in sync. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ CHAPTER 13 - Epilogue (3514 words)

“Mmm, Lu?” Gingerly, I opened my eyes. I had woken up to the feeling of someone nuzzling the side of my neck. Opening my eyes, I found that we had shifted into a spooning position in our sleep. His arms were wrapped around my waist and my hands were clasped over his. Lucifer was still asleep, holding on to me tightly. Carefully, I turned over to face him. His expression was relaxed. Sleep melted away any forehead creases making him look infinitely younger. His lips parted ever so slightly as his hair fell over his face, framing it just right. Carefully, as not to wake him, I lifted my hand to tuck some loose strands behind his ear and pecked him on the cheek. Being the notoriously light sleeper he is, Lu stirred at the movement. “Good morning Lu” “Mmm, good morning love” “Did you sleep well?” “Mhm.” Lucifer opened his eyes. The soft morning glow of the Devildom moon cast a soft light over him masking the demonic entity next to me in a celestial glow. His eyes were soft and docile, sleep still apparent. Not wanting to ruin the moment, but also not wanting to miss breakfast and see the rest of the brothers again, I started to shift away.

“Come on Lu, it’s time to get up.” “No. Just a little longer.” Lucifer immediately tightened his hold on me and buried his face into my chest. Letting out a small laugh, I brought my hand to his head and started stroking his hair. He sighed and leaned into my touch. “I’d love to stay in bed longer, but if we do that, Beel would eat everything.” Lucifer muttered something into my chest before pulling away and placing a kiss on my forehead. “We wouldn’t want that now would we? Come, let me change your dressings, then we’ll go.” It was then I remembered that I didn’t exactly have anything to wear. “Um, Lu? What am I supposed to wear?” Lucifer was already across the room getting the first aid supplies and a change of clothes out of the closet. He laid them out in front of me as I sat up. Spying the outfit, I realized it was my own, the one I would always wear when Lucifer and I spent our limited alone time. “Lu? Why do you have my clothes in your closet?” I asked with a raised eyebrow as he started removing my dressings and cleaning the wounds. A small blush appeared at my question. “It’ll be about 2 weeks before these fully heal.” “Lucifer, you’re avoiding my question.” “It will take you a little longer to learn how to fly with 2 pairs of wings instead of your usual 3.” I caught Lucifer’s hand in my own. He averted his gaze away from mine, his blush intensifying. “Lucifer.” “I-I couldn’t let you go. These reminded me of you, so I kept them. We still have most of your stuff in the catacombs. I just wanted these for myself.” When he finished, he was looking anywhere but my face. I held his hand and cupped a cheek with my other hand, gently turning him to face me. I leaned up and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “You missed.” Lucifer looked at me with his signature smirk on his face. I put a finger on my cheek and tilted my head. “I did? Huh, that’s strange I never miss.” Leaning up, I placed a kiss on the opposite corner. “Now you’re just teasing me.” I giggled. “Yup. Now come on, we better get down there before Beel eats everything.” ~Dining Room~ Lucifer entered the room first, announcing that they had a visitor that would be staying with them. “Ooh, really? Yay! Another Spa mate!” Asmo clapped his hands excitedly. “Great, I don’t have time for another normie.” Levi went back to his switch not caring. Belphie was half awake and not really caring, giving the barest hint of acknowledgement. “Who are they?” Satan asked, putting his book down. “Well, we have met before. It would be quite awkward to have to introduce myself a second time.” I stepped around from behind Lucifer and looked to the brothers sitting at the dining table. Pin. Drop. Silence. A full second went by before I found myself under a pile of demons. “Y/N! You’re back!” “Y/N, I can’t believe this!” Asmo clung tightly to me, practically bawling his eyes out. Belphie was clinging to my other side with Beel wrapping his arms around both of us. Levi was hugging me from behind, pressing his cheek into my back. Satan waited by Lucifer for his turn while Mammon was still standing there in shock.

“G-guys! I missed you too but I still need to breathe!” “Alright everyone, Y/N is still sore from their fall. I know you’re all excited to have them back, but give them some room.” After Lucifer got his brothers off me, I went and gave Satan a tight hug. “Welcome home kitten.” “It’s good to be home.” After letting go of Satan, I made my way to Mammon. “It’s really you, ain’t it treasure?” “Come on Mammoney, who else would I be?” Mammon lowered himself to my level and tucked his head into the crook of my neck, holding on to me. “Ya dumb human.” “Not human anymore I’m afraid.” “That’s right! Darling, can we see your demon form please? I’m sure you look absolutely stunning!” “Not really much of a demonic form Asmo, but, well, you’ll see.” I stepped away from Mammon as the rest of the brothers backed up to give me some room. I rolled my shoulders feeling a swirl of magic surround me as I unfurled my wings and let my Nephalem form (A/N: That’s what I’m calling it. Don’t like it, too bad 🙃). I looked up at the shocked look on the brother's face. “You look stunning kitten.” “Your halo. It’s beautiful darling!” “You look just like him.” “I know Beel. I don’t know why my halo stayed. You guys can touch it, but Satan, I don’t know if you can yet.” “Y/N’s halo repels demons but doesn’t have an effect on beings that once held, or have traces of grace within them. Since you are born from me, you might have some trace, but we shouldn’t risk it. For now, just avoid touching it Satan.” “Will do, although I am curious. When the rest of you fell, your halo’s broke off and your uniforms changed completely, so why is it that Y/N’s outfit stayed Celestial, albeit with their colours, and they kept their halo, even if it is now a ring of black fire?” “I wish I knew Satan, although it might have something to do with my decision to willingly fall instead of being cast out by force.” Satan opened his mouth to say something but before he could, Beel’s stomach decided to make a guest appearance. “What, we stopped breakfast for this?” “Alright big boy, let’s eat, we can invite Dia and Barb and talk about this afterwards.” “Dad. What’s going on, and who's this?” I turned to the doorway where the voice came from. I looked as a young demon woman walked into the room. Her long black hair was braided down her shoulder. Serene coloured eyes looked me up and down. She wore a simple outfit consisting of dark blue denim tights with a white v-neck shirt, a black cropped jean jacket, and a pair of knee-high combat boots. “Who are you?” She asked again with her hands on her hip, eyes pinned on me.” I turned around to face the brothers. “Alright spill. Who’s the father?” I looked at the brothers with an equally pinning gaze as all eyes looked to Satan. “That would be me. Mezu, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my daughter Mezu.” “You had a kid and didn’t tell me?!” “When could I have done that? We literally found out you were alive not 3 minutes ago. Mezu, Y/N here is an old friend of ours. They were the one that brought our family together and sacrificed themselves for us.” “Nice to meet you Mezu.” I stuck my hand out for her to take. She didn’t. “Why do you don and angels garb and halo with demonic features?” Mezu looked at me with her arms crossed, distrust evident across her features. “Mezu, you can trust them.” Lucifer came and put a hand on my shoulder. Mezu looked unconvinced and took one more look at me before reluctantly letting the subject drop. “If you say so. Although I still want to know why.” “I’ll explain that all after breakfast when Diavolo and Barbatos get here. I look forward to learning more about you too Mezu.”

~After Breakfast in the Common Area~

“So, I guess I should start.” “What happened after the execution?” Mezu asked. “Mezu!” “It’s fine Satan. I figured that’s where I should start anyway. After the execution, I woke up in some sort of pocket dimension. Lilith was there, she says hi by the way. She explained this dimension that she called the “Void”. It’s a place where souls that have no destination but don’t return to oblivion go to. She presented me with two options. She didn’t have enough power to resurrect me the way she did before, so she told me that she could either make me into a demon and return to the Devildom, or make me a Seraph and take me to the Celestial realm. I wanted to return badly, and I almost did but I didn’t want to return as a demon serving under Abandon. I chose to go to the Celestial realm. I woke up in the House of Honors wearing, according to Michael, Lucifer’s old uniform. Needless to say, he was not happy about that. After he gave me something to eat, we headed to the palace to see your father. It was there where we struck a deal. Neither of us wanted me to be there, but I also didn’t want to return and serve under Abandon. No offence” “None taken.” “He took an interest toward my knowledge of Lucifer's old habits and position. He struck a deal with me, one I would have also struck if he had not suggested it. I was to serve as Lucifer’s replacement, as head of the council of 7, until such a time that King Abandon steps down and Diavolo rises to the throne. During my time as the Council leader, I was to fulfill my duties as Lucifer would have, not abuse my power, and make decisions based on the best interest of the realm. The period of the agreement ended yesterday when Diavolo was crowned. I-” “Y/N?” I turned to look at Lucifer. “Diavolo wasn’t crowned yesterday. He’s been king for almost half a century now.” My eyes widened. “You mean to tell me. That I could have returned HALF A CENTURY AGO?! I should have done more than sock that bastard while I had the chance.” At the last part, half the room doubled over laughing. “You-you actually punched him, in the face?!” Satan asked, clutching his stomach. “Yup. In Front of the entire council, right before I jumped. You should have seen their faces but I could only do so much within the element of surprise before I made my dramatic exit. I would have done it sooner if I knew Dia had been crowned. I just didn’t want to risk falling while his dad was still in reign.” “Darling, have I ever mentioned how much I love you?” “Only every day since we met Azzy. Anyway, back to the story.” ~A Few Hours Later~ “And that’s when I woke up in Diavolo’s garden yesterday.” “It seems like the past millennia had been eventful for everyone.” Mezu commented once I had finished. “How was everyone's time here? I really want to know the story behind Satan’s love life and what the rest of you were up too.” “Well, the first few decades or so were quite difficult. It was hard to forget that you weren’t with us. Eventually though, we all grew closer through grieving you. Your death opened a familial bond between us. Something we had a hard time admitting existed while you were here.” Lucifer explained. “Don’t worry, we still haven’t changed. Mammon still ends up hanging from the ceiling, Satan spends all day reading and coming up with ways to prank Lucifer with Belphie, Asmo is still as narcissistic as ever, Beel keeps cleaning out the fridge, and I still spend my days in my room.” “Although, I noticed you have been starting to come out of it more often Leviathan.” Diavolo stated “Well, yes. I’ve been visiting the catacombs whenever I get the chance to add something to Y/N’s collection by their casket.” “Uhh, if my dead body is still down there, could we, like, get rid of it? It’s a little creepy to live in a house knowing your dead body is in the basement.” “We’ll clean that out and bring your stuff to your old room.” Satan said. “Alright. Ok then. Your turn.” “Me?” “Yes you. Come on Satan, spill. What is this love story of yours? I want to know more about Mezu and her mother.” Satan scratched the back of

his neck, looking lost in thought, a longing look in his eyes. I looked around the room and noticed that the occupants avoided my eyes, some looking towards Satan with a pitying look. Only Mezu looked at me. “My mother died 50 years ago.” “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” “Of course you didn’t. You angels don’t care for any demon or their relations. You all think your so high and mighty yet-” “Mezu, that’s enough! Y/N is not an angel, not anymore. I assure you, they care more than you think.” Lucifer starred his granddaughter niece down as she sat back down. A scowl still present on her face. “I’m sorry Mezu, I truly am. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. Please forgive me.” I smiled at her. She looked away, almost guiltily before Satan broke the silence. “Mezu was named after her mother. She was killed by an angel when Mezu was 25. She was beautiful and the only one who could cool my wrath after you passed.” “Were you happy with her? Like truly happy?” “Truly.” “That’s all I need to know.” I stood and hugged Satan. He returned it, resting his head above my heart.

~2 Years Later. At RAD~

It’s been 2 years since I returned. My wounds have healed and I found my place among the demons once again. Diavolo appointed me as an official member of the student council. I served as a secretary of sorts to Lucifer to allow for fewer sleepless nights and to make sure he didn’t bury himself in his work. Because of my status as a fallen, I was considered a noble and given the title “Avatar of Loyalty. The 8th of the 8” by Diavolo himself. I returned to RAD as a teacher on angel studies and a student in demonic politics. Lucifer and I became an official couple. During long night grading, I found myself chuckling at my students' interpretations of the Celestial Realm. I reminisced about my time with the council. Michael was probably glad to have finally gotten rid of me. Luke was promoted as Michael’s personal protegé. The rest of the angels were probably too busy to think about me though. Having finished marking, I went to go get Lucifer to turn in for the night.

~The next day~

“Dia, not to sound rude or anything, but why did you want us all to meet so early? RAD isn’t starting for another hour.” Diavolo sat in his head seat at the table as the rest of us sat in our usual spots. All of us displaying varying levels of consciousness. Belphegor having fallen back asleep as soon as he sat down. Diavolo had a beaming smile on his face as he spoke. Never a good sign... “We have some new exchange students joining us today. I want you to meet them all and show them around RAD. This is an opportunity for the rest of you to mend some old ties” “My Lord, what exactly are you getting at?” Lucifer asked tentatively. Diavolo’s smile only grew brighter, but before he could say anything, the doors to the council room burst open. “Y/N!” Looking up, I managed to catch a mop of reddish-orange hair before I was buried under a pile of bodies. After I finally wiggled my way out, I backed up towards Lucifer; his arm finding its way around my waist. Standing in the council room were the 7 Archangels, all donning RAD uniforms, all smiling sheepishly save for Michael who was standing off to the side with his arms crossed. Looking at the rest of the brothers, I found that Bell was now wide awake as the rest of them looked a tad bit uncomfortable. Lucifer had a displeased frown. “What are you guys doing here?” “It was Father's idea to have us participate in this program. He thought it best to-” “Don’t kid yourself Michael. We volunteered to come. We missed you Y/N. Especially Michael. He wouldn’t stop talking about you after you left. Things weren’t the same after you fell. He also really wanted to see Lucifer again.” Raphael cut Michael off mid-sentence. Looking around, the brothers each had a murderous look in their eyes. “Ok, first off, you volunteered, I got dragged into this. Second, I did not miss Y/N and I did not talk about them after they left. If anything, I was glad that they were gone, especially after that little stunt they pulled before they jumped. You didn’t think I’d forget that Y/N, did you?” I loosened myself from Lucifer's grip and made my way over to the angels, giving them each a hug in turn. “Aww, I missed you guys too. Mike. What did I say about your pride? Honestly, for someone who used to adore the Virtue of Humility and claims to hate the Avatar of Pride, you really seem to take after his sin. Besides, you didn’t deny wanting to see Lu again.” The occupants in the room started snickering as Michael’s face started turning a lovely shade of beet red. Lucifer looked taken aback at the revelation but lightly chuckled into his fist as well. “I’d be careful Mike. You wouldn’t want to lose that angelic status of yours for something as childish as misplaced pride.” Lucifer said with a smirk on his face. Michael started stuttering, trying to defend himself. “I-I didn’t! I-I don’t have any Pride I swear! Besides-” “Alright, alright. That’s enough.” Gabriel stepped in to save Michael from any more embarrassment. “It’s true, we did miss you and saw the exchange program as an opportunity to see you again. That’s why we volunteered to come.” Gabriel stopped in front of me and hugged me, much gentler than before. “We really did miss you Y/N. Things up there were too quiet without you.” “Oi! Hands off Y/N!” Mammon jumped up from his chair and pushed Gabriel away from me. Levi had shifted into his demonic form and wrapped his tail around my waist. “Y/N Belongs to us, not you normies.” “NORMIES?! I’m hurt that you think of us like that Leviachan. It is nice to know that you still kept your love for the Japanese animation even after you left.” Azrael said as he turned to look at Levi. A hand on his chest and a look of faux hurt in his eyes. This time, it was Levi’s turn to turn beet red. His self conscious not being able to take the attention. I was pulled away from Levi by Lucifer who placed a quick kiss on the top of my head. A prideful smirk on his face as he addressed the angels.

“Now then, there is no need to fight over this. Y/N belongs to me. Isn’t that right my love?” One cannot describe the look of utter hurt, shock, betrayal, and jealousy that overtook the features of everyone present in the room at Lucifer’s bold statement. My own expression being that of shock before all bloody hell broke loose. Everyone started arguing over who I belonged to and who I loved the most. I stood there trying to calm everyone down but alas, my voice was never heard over the shouting. “It seems the exchange program is becoming quite the success, isn’t it Barbatos?” “Indeed My Lord, although perhaps we should put a stop to this before someone loses control?” “No need Barb. Let them talk among themselves. I know, how about some tea while we wait?” “Of course My Lord.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ And there we go. It's done! Thank you to everyone who stuck through reading this until the end. Thank you to everyone who left comments and Likes.

For those who are wondering about the candle and magical energy that surrounded Y/N, the energy is the magic used to take away their angelic status and made them into a Nephalem (Demon, Angel Hybrid). Their candle kept changing itself because it needed to form a new substance to match Y/N's new physiology.

[what2finish]

Creator Post: Rudearrow

Rudearrow’s WTF Creator Post (Auction #1001, #1002)

Creator’s previous works: Here!

Link to GDrive Folder of WIP Summaries/HCs/Plot Bunnies Creator is Offering: Here! 

you can contact the creator before bidding at:

email: rudearrow@gmail.com

Likes:  fantasy au, sci-fi au, plotfic/casefic, found family, Redemption Arc With Hard Work, Demonstrating Contrition, and Learning to Love Yourself(tm), wingfic, lesser known pairings and characters, crossovers, whacky ideas taken seriously, whacky ideas taken whackily, bdsm

Do Not Wants: no non-con, torture, incest, or underage. no harder kinks, ie: scat, waterworks, gore, etc.

Preferred Charities of the creator: Any

Full Charities List

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Auction #1

Type of fanwork: fanfiction

Fandom: Marvel, DC, Stranger Things, Game of Thrones, Supernatural, Mo Dao Zu Shi/The Untamed, (honestly, just email me if you like my writing... if I know your canon, I'm probably down)

Pairing(s): I'm a multi-shipper who loves underdog/rarepairs, existing WIPs are for Winterhawk, Winteriron, Winterironhawk, Robb/Theon, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington/Dean Winchester. Platonic/grey-ace pairings welcome!

Character(s): there isn't a character from any of the canons listed that I won't write

Rating: General, Teen, Mature

Marvel WIPs:

Crimson & Clover: Urban Fantasy AU; 616 Clint & Bucky, endgame Winterhawk. Clint Barton has finally done the Right Thing(tm) and left his life of petty crime with Cirque du Nuit behind him. He’s got a GED, a bow, and coffee- and not much else. In the process of rebuilding his life, he runs into a not-so-tall, dark, and handsome stranger. Literally. He thinks a spilled latte and a bump on the head will be the end of his encounter, but with each successive run-in, he realizes that maybe luck just isn’t on his side and outrunning his past might not be in the cards after all. Current WC: 15k.

Half-splitting the Problem: Winteriron canon reversal! Feared dead after an attack on his convoy in Afghanistan nearly three months ago, the CEO of Barnes Industries has once again defied expectations. Having survived the attack and his subsequent captivity by the terrorist organization, The Ten Rings, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes has returned to American soil and turned his company upside down. Tony Stark, a young man from humble means with few options, has been working his internship with SI R&D for nearly a year now. He’s noticed activities that can only be described as ‘iffy’ at best, but with a boatload of student debt and a work history peppered with reprimands and missed deadlines he’s decided to keep his head down for the almighty dollar and hope for the best... Until he stumbles across Obadiah Stane’s personal project. Current WC: 1.5k

Seraphic (Hallowed Incorporeal Entities) Liaison Division, AKA: S.H.I.E.L.D.: Winterironhawk wingfic! Bucky Barnes has been assigned a new Seraph partner and he’s not happy about it. Tony Stark is that  Seraph and while he’s not thrilled either, it really is a lot of fun to push Barnes’s buttons. Clinton Francis Barton, unbeknownst to him, is their first assigned charge. And honestly? He could use all the help S.H.I.E.L.D. can spare. Current WC: 3k

Misadventures in Solitude: Clint Barton-centric, fwb Winterhawk, open to endgame romantic Winterhawk, alternative Clint pairing (except Nat. Sorry, for me they are always platonic soul mates), and/or poly. Just a day in the life of Clint Barton, coffee-riddled, exhausted corporate cog. He did all the “right” things- went to school, got a decent white-collar job, moved to the big city- so why is he so unhappy? And lost. Except, shit... he’s actually lost. Where the futz is he? Current WC: 1.5k

Part I:  The Space Between Us: 616 Winterhawk; Space! Kidnapped Clint! BDSM. This is technically part one to the fic I finished a few months ago on my linked Ao3, Show Me the Miles. Bucky has been chosen for the “away team”, as Stark likes to call it. While Bucky is bored almost to tears watching Stark and Rogers schmooze with extraterrestrial royalty, Clint is snatched while on a milk run mission back on Earth. Bucky, suffice it to say, doesn’t exactly take the news well. Current WC: 5.5k

Marvel HC:

Fairytale Winteriron AU: Bucky/Tony Bucky is a sprite with moth wings. Tony is a sprite with butterfly wings. Their peoples have centuries of animosity and sharp words for each other. Then ‘the fire(fly) nation attacked’ and [choose which one here] is injured, only to be saved by the other! Begrudging friendship and appreciation turn into more. Endgame is sprites in love. \o/ 

Completion WC Estimates:

Crimson & Clover, Estimated 40k+ upon completion. 

Half-splitting the Problem, Estimated 15-20k upon completion. 

Seraphic (Hallowed Incorporeal Entities) Liaison Division, AKA: S.H.I.E.L.D., Estimated 20k+ upon completion. 

Misadventures in Solitude, Estimated 10k+ upon completion.

Part I: The Space Between Us, Estimated 15-20k upon completion.

Fairytale Winteriron AU HC, Estimated 15-20k upon completion.

GOT WIP:

Manual for Spaceship Westeros: Robb/Theon; Space Colony Au! There is tension between the loose planetary alliance that calls itself Westeros. Robb Stark, as the only full-blood Stark son of age, is sent to negotiate a stronger alliance with Iron Born, a terrifying clan who has made a small water planet habitable through the genetic modification of its ancestors, sweat, and blood. Robb arrives to seek an audience with The Greyjoy and make his offer- the hand of his sister Sansa. But The Greyjoy deems this insufficient and Robb quickly finds himself on the offering plate. Current WC 2k.

Completion WC Estimate: 20-25k

Stranger Things & Supernatural: 

Billy Dean Was My Lover (working tongue in cheek title): main pairing Steve/Billy (possibly Steve/Billy/Dean?); Billy/Dean; crossover plot-ish fic! When his dad called and ordered Dean to pack up Sam then head for the Midwest, he didn’t ask questions. Apparently, strange things were happening in small town Indiana; which was usually a Winchester’s bread and butter. Yet even Dean and Sam aren’t quite prepared for the kind of strange Hawkins has, especially with John failing to meet them at the town’s motel. But there was something even more surprising than the super-powered teenage girl and a whole new world of monsters... 

Hearing the name of Dean’s tape-swap penpal out of some preppy, polo-wearing guy’s mouth. Current WC 1k.

WILDCARD, AKA: ANY HC/PROMPT FOR THE ABOVE PAIRINGS AND FANDOMS LISTED.

If you like my writing but aren’t into the WIPs here, I will write a fic that is a minimum of 10k for any character, ship, platonic pair, for any of the fandoms listed above. I’m also happy to write for material/canon I know but that isn’t listed above. If I know it well enough, I’ll write it for you! (Exception being RPS.) Just message me if you’re curious and I’ll confirm that I’m familiar with the source material. :)

Starting Bid: $10

Creator Notes:

Like my fellow mod, Mei, I am willing to work my winner's likes into my stories and am open to brainstorming sessions!

Feel free to email me to learn more about any of the WIPs stories and if you like, I will give you my Discord handle. I am willing to work with my winner's pairings as long as they don't fall into my DNWs. For Marvel the only two pairings (of the ones I am most familiar) that I just cannot see romantically/sexually are Clint/Natasha and Bucky/Steve.

Current Bid Spreadsheet: Here.

Please check what the current bid is at before bidding.

Bids might take a few minutes to load.

Bidding ends on November 28th 11:59:00pm CST. The highest bid before that deadline will win the auction.

Bidding Form: Here.

Please check the Bid Spreadsheet and bid higher than the previous bid.

You will not be notified if you have been outbid. Only the winner will be notified after bidding ends.

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Auction #2

Type of fanwork: fanfiction

Fandom: Marvel, DC, Stranger Things, Game of Thrones, Supernatural, Mo Dao Zu Shi/The Untamed, (honestly, just email me if you like my writing... if I know your canon, I'm probably down)

Pairing(s): I'm a multi-shipper who loves underdog/rarepairs, existing WIPs are for Winterhawk, Winteriron, Winterironhawk, Robb/Theon, Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington/Dean Winchester. Platonic/grey-ace pairings welcome!

Character(s): there isn't a character from any of the canons listed that I won't write

Rating: General, Teen, Mature

WIPs/Prompt:

Literally the same as Auction #1!

Staring Bid: $10

Creator Notes:

Like my fellow mod, Mei, I am willing to work my winner's likes into my stories and am open to brainstorming sessions!

Feel free to email me to learn more about any of the WIPs stories and if you like, I will give you my Discord handle. I am willing to work with my winner's pairings as long as they don't fall into my DNWs. For Marvel the only two pairings (of the ones I am most familiar) that I just cannot see romantically/sexually are Clint/Natasha and Bucky/Steve.

**In the unlikely event that both winning bidders want the same fic and you don’t want any of the other WIPs listed, I will offer up a fic of equal or greater length for whatever HC you desire. Within, of course, the same DNW parameters listed above. This includes the Wild Card option!**

Current Bid Spreadsheet: Here.

Please check what the current bid is at before bidding.

Bids might take a few minutes to load.

Bidding ends on November 28th 11:59:00pm CST. The highest bid before that deadline will win the auction.

Bidding Form: Here.

Please check the Bid Spreadsheet and bid higher than the previous bid.

You will not be notified if you have been outbid. Only the winner will be notified after bidding ends.

[pengychan]

[Good Omens] Winging It - Song of Solomon 8:6

Summary: Shockingly, attempting to destroy an angel without consulting God first comes with consequences. There is more than one way to fall, and a thousand more ways to inconvenience an angel and a demon who just wanted to be left in peace. Characters: Gabriel, Crowley, Aziraphale, Beelzebub, Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon Rating: T  

Prologue and all chapters are tagged as ‘winging it’ on my blog.

A/N: Well, now they know.

***

Gabriel did not sleep that night.

He went through the motions to undress, shower, towel himself dry, brush his teeth and all that before he lay down under the sheets and turned off the light, but he did not sleep nor he expected to; what he did expect was for Beelzebub to pay him a visit, and demand he repay his debt.

He had found Lawrence Brown, met him, passed on the message; the deed was done and it was time to repay the Prince of Hell for their help. Repay them by bringing up memories of a time long gone, of beings long gone. 

“I know you,” he’d told Ba’al a long time ago. 

“No. You do not.”

Gabriel stared at the ceiling in the dim light coming from the window, the same thoughts running in circles through his mind. What good would knowledge of what had been bring them? Seeking knowledge had caused humanity’s fall in the first place, clearly it was not a good idea. And yet… 

"Thank you for bringing Daniel back to me,” Lawrence Brown had said.

It has been a long time, Gabriel had thought, he doesn’t know him at all. Why would he care to see the photo of a stranger?

“Here he is, dear. My little brother, all grown up.”

The boy Lawrence remembered was no more, then sister Daniel had known had never been, and yet they cared. Yet it mattered. There was the regret for never being reunited, the nostalgia, the fondness, the eagerness to know more about the other, what they had been through all those years and the people they had become.

“He was looking for Alison. That was not me.”

But he was looking for him, in the end. Looking for someone he’d cared about, whatever their name. Gabriel held onto that thought, and waited. He didn’t need to wait long: soon enough the room was brightened by a sudden flare, a smell of sulphur in the air. 

Gabriel opened his eyes and lifted himself up on his elbows to glance over.

“I have come for you to hold your half of the bargain,” Beelzebub announced, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed. “You found the man you were seeking. Now I demand you give me the answers I want.”

Gabriel stared at them a few moments, and finally lifted himself up, sitting across the Prince of Hell. Their expression was unreadable, and they were very still. They did, however, blink when Gabriel took their hand. 

“What are you-- how dare you presume you can touch--” they began, but paused when Gabriel bowed his head and pressed the palm of their hand on his forehead. 

“Here. You can see all I remember. And all I have not yet remembered, I suspect,” he told them, his voice barely more than a murmur. The perfect loophole, because what kept Beelzebub from trying themselves was the literal hellish pain their attempts would cause - but seeing someone else’s memories was another matter entirely. 

For a few moments, Beelzebub stared. “The deal was that you’d try and remember so you could tell me--”

“There are things I cannot quite recall. There is-- a block.”

A brief silence, the briefest touch on the very surface of his mind causing the hair on Gabriel’s neck to stand on end. “Fear,” Beelzebub stated. “You are afraid of what this may bring back up.”

Gabriel saw no point in lying, mostly because Beelzebub would see right through it the second they searched his mind. “Yes. But you can force your way through it. I will know, and so will you.”

The hand on his head gripped some of his hair a moment, but it was a loose grasp, and no intrusion in his mind happened just yet. The Lord of the Flies kept staring at him in the dim light, their eyes… ah, they looked completely black. Above them, a few flies buzzed weakly. “What do you think we’ll see?”

“... The truth. Things I may not know how to put into words.”

A scoff. “Not knowing how to put something into words? God’s messenger?”

Gabriel gave a weak smile. “I am only human. And, as you frequently remind me, also an idiot.”

The derisive expression turned into a mildly surprised look, and then something that almost resembled a smile. “I shall not hold back. We made a deal and I will have what I am owed. Do you understand that?”

“I do.”

“Do not attempt to keep me out. It will be easier if you yield.”

Be still. You’ll make it easier, Gabriel.

He'd struggled, then. He would not now.  “I don’t plan to resist.”

Another moment of silence and yes, Gabriel could see it now - Beelzebub, Prince of Hell and Lord of the Flies, hesitated. 

I am not the only one who is afraid.

He almost remarked on that, but with Beelzebub’s hand resting on his head it would be akin to asking for a third-degree burn to his scalp, so he decided against it. Instead he closed his eyes, and spoke quietly. “Ba’al,” he said, and immediately yielded to the intrusion when the grip on his head tightened, and the one who’d once been Ba’al dove in, searching the shelves of his mind for memories of what had been.

***

They saw it all, from the beginning - not the Beginning of Earth, but the true start of everything. 

When God willed light and dark into existence, and then created the angels to build more, filling up that vast nothingness with stars and celestial bodies tracing intricate patterns according to laws of physics that would have been kept together with tape and spit, if not for the fact tape did not exist yet and angels did not spit. 

Or so Gabriel said. Angels simply Did Not Do a lot of things, in his opinion, which he never ceased to offer whether or not he had been consulted, whether or not the angels he spoke to outranked him. Ba’al found it annoying, at first. Then it was… still annoying, but amusing. When you see an Archangel trying to lecture a Seraph who is very clearly holding back from slapping said Archangel with all six wings, it’s hard not to admire the sheer nerve. Or idiocy. 

That had made him stand out; not all angels knew each other all that well - twenty millions of them, spread out across the universe to carry out God’s mysterious will - but soon enough, Ba’al and Gabriel knew each other rather well. Kept each other in check, sort of. And they got along, oddly enough.

Beelzebub saw it all through Gabriel’s mind, old memories tucked away, unraveling before their own eyes. The stars and galaxies they created, the discussions over projects, more banter than would be expected of angels turning into arguments when Ba’al began growing frustrated with the work, the blind obedience as God dished out orders and barely looked their way.

Gabriel was fine with it. Ba’al found they were not. It drove a wedge between them, as Ba’al began to hang with what Gabriel believed to be the wrong crowd. He tried to talk them out of it, they tried to talk him into it, neither would budge and the rest was history. Those were the facts; Beelzebub had been prepared to see the facts. 

What they had not prepared for was that which Gabriel feared to bring back. That which he may not know how to put into words. It hit them like a wave, causing them to recoil, the hand clenching on Gabriel’s hair - not what he had done, not what he had said, but what he had felt. 

Love was what they struck them first, so foreign after so much time they didn’t even recognize it at first. It clung to their throat, almost made them choke, cloying and all-encompassing, the brush of a wing over their head and the rumble of thunder, the light of countless stars and celestial bodies imploding and crashing and coming together into new galaxies. Beneath it all an affection that was milder, quieter, the gentle hum of the vast emptiness of the universe yet to fill.

And then had come the worry. Then had come the confusion, the alarm. Some anger - the despair, some helplessness as war broke out and they were on opposite sides. Fear, short-lived relief. Hope, the last-ditch attempt to get Ba’al back on God’s side, and then the pain like the scorching agony of a dying star. Then regret, then numbness. Relief again, when the memory began to fade. The focus on God’s Great Plan, his mission, the only thing that had meaning.

We willed ourselves to forget. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

HURTS. IT HURTS.

Beelzebub let out a hoarse cry, and let go of Gabriel’s head as though it had just burned their hand or, rather, wet it with holy water. And for a moment they almost believed there had been holy water involved, that it was where the pain came from, because as Gabriel kept his head bowed something dripped down from his face, onto the crumpled sheets beneath. 

No-- no, it couldn’t be holy water. It would have destroyed them, or harmed them far more severely. But they were still there, they were whole... as long as they ignored the space aching cold inside them which was not, after all, caused by holy water. 

A brief pause, and Beelzebub slowly stood. They forced themselves to smother any expression, allowed themselves no thought on what they had just learned. Not now. Nor later, possibly, or ever. Never to wonder what they had felt, if that sickening wave of love from that idiot’s part had been returned in any capacity. They suspected they could guess the answer, if they tried to, and it was an excellent reason to never try at all. 

We’re not the same beings we were then.

I am Lord Beelzebub, not Ba’al. Thank Satan for that.

“... Stop leaking. You fulfilled your half of the bargain, and we’ll speak no more of this,” they said, giving Gabriel their back and preparing to return to Hell, where they could busy themselves torturing some newcomers, or--

Something grasped their wrist to keep them from leaving, a desperate grip, and the ache in their chest grew worse. Beelzebub snarled, seething fury and something else beneath it, a sort of sudden terror. “If you wish to keep that limb you’ll unhand me now, human.”

For a moment, nothing happened; then the grip grew slack, and Beelzebub tore their arm away from Gabriel’s weak grasp. He said nothing, did not argue. The Prince of Hell did not turn to see if he was still weeping. It did not matter. It could not matter.

“You were right,” was the last thing they said, voice cold, before they disappeared in a cloud of fire and sulphur, to return to Hell where they belonged. “This changes nothing.”

***

“What questions do you have for the Almighty?”

The Voice of God spoke quite pleasantly, no thunder to it, and even so it seemed to reverberate all around them. It must be their nerves, Michael reasoned. Or maybe the almost completely empty room they were in was not helping matters with its echo. 

… No, it was definitely her nerves. They all were nervous, but Metatron had been summoned and they couldn’t backtrack without looking… rather stupid, which was a prospect Michael was not overly fond of. Not quite as dreaded as the wrath of God, but still one she’d rather avoid.

It was Uriel to speak for all of them. It had been her idea to ask for that meeting, she’d said, and she would ask. 

“We wish to talk about the punishment visited upon the Archangel Gabriel,” Uriel said. 

Metatron raised an eyebrow. “There is no Archangel Gabriel, Archangel Uriel,” he said. 

There are no back channels, Michael, Gabriel had once told her in that exact same tone. Willfully blind, was how they called that kind of thing - angels never did, in theory, lie ; they may imply and omit, but lie - but that was hardly relevant. Whatever Gabriel said, however willfully blind to it, there had been back channels. 

And there had been an Archangel Gabriel. The Voice of God uttering otherwise did not change that, blasphemous as the thought may feel. 

He never forgot him, unlike us. Of course he would not. He must know all which God knows, or almost, to answer on Their behalf. 

Standing by her side, Uriel replied without missing a beat. “My apologies. I mean, the one formerly known as the Archangel Gabriel,” she corrected herself. 

Metatron nodded, like she’d uttered a different name entirely. “Ah, I see. Him. What of his punishment?”

For a moment, none of them said anything; Michael steeled herself, Sandalphon folded his hand, Uriel stood a little more rigidly. They were still on time to turn back, to stop questioning, to be safe. One moment, to give any of them a chance to do just that and leave. 

None of them moved, and Uriel finally spoke up for all of them. “We were wondering if you may share with us the reason why. He always served God loyally.”

Metatron frowned. “Have you not heard me declaring his crimes? He was prideful, and attempted to extinguish the existence of another angel out of anger, without permission, without consulting with God through me. Destroy him for good, erase his very existence. Think of it and tell me, does any of you truly believe he did not deserve his punishment?”

To say that she did would mean calling God’s judgment into question, but Michael had no intention to do it; not least because she knew otherwise. Their question, after all, was an entirely different one. “He did,” she said instead. “But what we do not understand is why he, alone, was cast out on Earth. You know - God knows - he did not act alone.”

Metatron was silent for a few moments, eyeing all of them. He seemed to be listening to something he alone could hear before he spoke. “... He did not,” he finally replied. “But he led you.”

Michael was just… a touch annoyed that he’d say that like she’d blindly followed orders - none of them had - but as a warrior angel she had learned how to pick her battles and that was not a battle worth picking. Not right now, anyway. “Even so, we actively aided him. Shouldn’t we have received a punishment as well?”

“Have you not?” was the reply, and Michael paused, rather lost, as the Voice of God spoke again. “Here you are, unable to move on, quite literally arguing for your guilt. When have you last been at peace, any of you?”

None of them said anything. They all averted their gaze. It was enough of an answer to Metatron. 

“See? None of you escaped punishment. God simply decreed it would be different; the kind you’d inflict upon yourselves.”

“Not as severe as Gabiel’s.”

“Not as severe?” Metatron seemed thoughtful. “At first, perhaps. But he adapted quite well, did he not? He is doing rather well for himself, and learning quite a few things. Humility, first of all. Of course there is the unfortunate matter of meeting with Beelzebub far more often than it’d be wise, which would be not at all - but all in all, he’s not doing too badly. There is something to be said about being human, it seems, or else they wouldn’t be so immensely attached to their mortal life. Last he was checked on, he seemed more at ease with himself than you are, to be entirely frank.”

That was true, Michael supposed. And yet... Gabriel’s screams etched in her mind, the ripping noises, the blood - it was hard to think of it and believe their discomfort matched that pain in any way. “Why did we not receive his same punishment--”

“Because we didn’t choose it.”

Uriel’s voice rang out suddenly, causing Michael to trail off and Sandalphon to blink. They both turned to see her looking directly at Metatron, her expression hard to read. The Voice of God looked back at her. 

“And what choice do you believe you had?” he asked, not unkindly. 

“More than we thought we did. We have been looking at it from the wrong angle all along, haven’t we?” Uriel said, stepping closer before speaking again. Her voice was even, sure; the voice of someone who hasn’t come to a sudden realization, but rather has thought long and hard over what to say. Uriel had understood something, Michael saw it now; that was why she had wanted them to speak with Metatron. Not so much to ask - just to confirm what she knew.

Sandalphon’s head almost whipped towards Michael, who could only return his gaze with a silent shake of her head. 

I got nothing, either.

But clearly, Uriel had done the math for all of them.

“It was a test, am I correct?” she was asking. “We assumed our choice was to either cast out Gabriel as ordered, or refuse and Fall for challenging God, into the eternal fire.”

To be entirely honest Michael had not seen much in the way of flames during her visit to Hell, but saying that the rebellious angels had been ‘cast into eternal fire’ just had a nice, intimidating ring to it, so she said nothing. 

Plus, that… really wasn't the important bit of what Uriel was saying.

“But there was a third option,” she was going on. “Not obey, not refuse, but argue that we deserved his same punishment as Gabriel, for we were guilty of the same crimes.”

Oh, Michael thought. Oh. 

Sandalphon’s mouth fell open, but he said nothing; only later would Michael know he’d told Gabriel something very similar, last time he’d seen him on Earth. 

We could have refused and-- gone with you.

It was something that had crossed Michael’s mind as well, but they both had thought of it in terms of rebelling to God. What they’d never thought was that perhaps, that had been an option they had been expected to choose. One they ought to have chosen. 

It was a test, am I correct?

And we failed, Michael thought. God tested us and we failed.

As the thought rang through her head, a deep sense of shame in her chest, Metatron tilted his head on one side. 

“You obeyed God’s order. Surely, by definition, that is a correct choice.”

“We didn’t do as we were told out of obedience only,” Uriel replied. “We had doubts. But we followed through because we did not want to suffer his same fate, even if we knew that if he deserved it, then so did we.”

“Out of fear. Fear of God is not unwise,” the Voice of God pointed out. “Had you made the choice to share his punishment, God would not have intervened to spare you as They did when Abraham didn’t get the joke and tried to truly slash his son’s throat on Moriah.”

“Ah, that,” Sandalphon muttered. “Gabriel told me he got there just on time. Didn’t think the boy would be right in the head ever again.”

Metatron gave him an unimpressed look, clearly about as fond of being interrupted as Michael was fond of coming across as foolish, which was to say not at all. “As I was saying, had you requested to share his punishment, all of you would have been stripped of your wings and cast to Earth as mortals along with him. Quite inconvenient.”

“Inconvenient, but fair. It would have been the right choice, wouldn’t it?” Uriel insisted, and Metatron fell silent for a few moments; then slowly, solemnly, he nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “It was indeed a test, and submitting yourself to his same punishment would have been the right choice.”

“But we didn’t,” Sandalphon spoke, his voice oddly weak.

“No. You did not,” Metatron replied. “But no one is infallible except for God.”

“What can we do to set things right?” Uriel asked, only for Metatron to shake his head. 

“Nothing. The choice has been made and cannot be unmade. Gabriel received his punishment, and you received yours. As far as the Almighty is concerned, this matter is closed.”

Having done wrong was a novel, unpleasant concept to Michael; having done wrong and knowing they couldn’t fix it was even worse. It wasn’t something they were equipped, or even meant, to cope with.

“We didn’t know it was a test!” Sandalphon protested, gaining himself a long look from Metatron. 

“... One could argue that is the point of a test,” he said flatly. 

Sandalphon had the good grace to blush in mild embarrassment, but tried to argue again. “We would have never done such a thing if we hadn’t been given an order and-- it was-- how were we supposed to know what the right thing to do was by ourselves?”

“The same way humans are expected to, every day,” was the reply. The Voice of God turned his gaze back on Uriel, then on Michael. “Do you have any more questions?”

Michael swallowed. “Is there any real chance Gabriel may return to Heaven one day? Perhaps after his mortal life has ended?”

The Voice of God smiled. “As per every mortal,” he said, “that will entirely depend on the choices he makes.”

***

It was early morning when Gabriel walked into St. Joseph’s Church. 

It wasn’t the first church he’d come across since he’d set out wandering aimlessly through the city, but he was partial to Catholic ones for purely esthetic reasons. That, and the deep reverence towards Maryam which he rather appreciated, as giving her the Good News was his most well-known accomplishment. 

Looking back now, he was rather sorry for how badly he’d freaked out. The PR department had taken care of that in the Scriptures, though, and the portrayals of the event had since widely matched the official version. Although, looking at the statue before him now, Gabriel had to wonder how come she was always so pale in all of them.

The church was seemingly empty, and he almost walked up to the pews in the first row before hesitating, staring at the altar. He’d been cast out of Heaven, did he truly have the right to be there?

But the consecrated ground did not burn him, nor did the holy water when he dared dip his fingers in it. It was heartening, and in the end Gabriel stopped at a bench midway, to the side, and knelt. He clasped his hand together, bowed his head until his forehead rested on them, and prepared to pray. 

Except he did not, because he couldn’t find the words to. The sense of loss was overwhelming, ancient and yet so new, as though it had only just happened that night; a wound he'd forgotten was there had been  ripped open, and it made the pain of losing his wings and identity almost pale by comparison. And, as for his wings, there could be no getting back what was lost. Ba’al was no more. 

This changes nothing.

And not just Ba’al, either. Many others who’d Fallen were angels he’d known by name, cared about. His brethren, like Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon, everyone else. Half of the Heavenly host gone, the loss unimaginable; he hadn’t known all of them, but still so many. Of course they’d needed to forget; of course Satan had decreed there would be pain for any demon attempting to recall what had been. If this was how it felt like, how could they ever have picked arms against each other again as per God’s Great Plan?

“Is that the Ineffable Plan as well?”

“ Well, they're the same thing.”

“You don’t know.”

Gabriel swallowed and tried to muster enough voice to speak - to pray, beg for relief, for guidance, anything - but someone else spoke before he did, causing him to recoil. 

“Gabriel.”

It was a voice he knew, though not one he had expected to hear. He lifted his head and drew in a long breath before he looked up. “Uriel,” he greeted her, quietly. He managed a smile; he’d met and spoken with Michael and Sandalphon since his exile, but not with her. “It’s been a while.”

“Too long,” she replied, and knelt next to him. She hesitated a moment, gaze lingering on the dark shadows under his eyes after a sleepless night. “How are you?”

Gabriel shrugged, knowing he was… not prepared to speak of it. Not yet. Perhaps not ever. “... Holding up,” he finally said. 

“Ah.” A brief silence. “... Your message has been passed on to your friend. He was pleased.”

The smile that curled Gabriel’s lips was a little more sincere, this time. “I’m glad.”

“He has some… colorful language.”

A chuckle. “Heh. Should have warned you.”

Another brief silence, then Uriel let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry.”

He glanced back at her, taken aback. “What?”

“For what we did to you.”

Right. That. Gabriel ignored the faint ache where his wings should have been, and shook his head. “God ordered it. You had no choice.”

“But we did.”

“You’d have Fallen. It was no real choice.”

“It was a test, and we failed it,” Uriel spoke up, her voice not as firm as it usually was. Under Gabriel’s surprised gaze, she drew in a deep breath, gaze fixed ahead, on the altar. Every word she spoke seemed to leave her mouth with great effort of will, like a shameful confession. It was, in a way: angels do not fail. Angels are not supposed to fail.

“We knew that if you deserved what you got, then so did we. We should have argued we deserved the same. We should have been cast out on Earth with you.”

Something gripped Gabriel’s throat, a different sort of pain. “Uriel…”

“We should have faced the consequences with you, and we didn’t,” she cut him off, and sighed. “We failed the test, we failed God, and we failed you. We’re sorry.”

For a few moments Gabriel said nothing; he remembered the terror, the incredulity, their grip on him and the plea not to make it harder than it already was. He remembered the blinding pain, the weakness that pervaded him as he walked through the night seeking shelter, bleeding from wounds he dared not think of. All of it still filled his nightmares, from time to time.

And he found he could not bear to wish it on anybody. 

I would have failed that test, too.

“... I am glad you failed,” he found himself saying, his own eyes turning to the altar. He realized the truth of it only as it left his lips. “I am glad you were not cast out with me.”

He didn’t glance at her, and he didn’t know if she looked at him at all either, but then her hand was resting on his own joined ones, and squeezed. Not a gentle squeeze by human standards, but Gabriel knew it was hard for her to dose her divine strength in a way that wouldn’t shatter bones, so he clenched his teeth and said nothing of it.

“There is a chance for you to come to Heaven, after your mortal life runs its course. It has to do with choices.”

Ah, of course. The old-fashioned, mortal way. Taken as he was searching for Lawrence, Gabriel had almost forgotten about that entire spiel about making the right choices, whatever those choices were. He still did not know what God wanted of him.

“Don’t wonder what’s in it for you, mortal,” Metatron had said. “That way of thinking taints your every choice, and leads to Hell and Hell alone.”

“I think you have figured out more than you think,” Aziraphale had told him. He still had no idea what he was even talking about.

“Well. I suppose I’ll try my best,” he said in the end, smiling weakly. It was all a mortal could do, after all.

Uriel nodded.  “... I am aware that Beelzebub has been bothering you. They want to claim your soul. Any moment, you only need to call our names and we’ll come to chase them away from you.”

The weak smile on Gabriel’s face faded. “... There may be no need. Perhaps I’ve seen the last of them,” he said, and the thought gave him no relief whatsoever. 

***

"Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame." -- Song of Solomon 8:6

***

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Looking Glass

Chapter 22 - The Devil Made Me Do It

Pairing: CastielXAU!Reader

Word Count: 2031

Summary: Non-explicit references to sexy times. A timeless moment between Cas and the reader is rudely interrupted by a trickster archangel and the impending closure of the rift. Cas isn’t leaving anything to chance when it comes to getting the reader home safe, but with Lucifer in the mix, the seraph is in for a bumpy ride.

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Low rising rays of sunlight caress the cracked glass of the windshield; beams catch the cuts of crystal, sheeting you and the angel tucked together in the backseat of a derelict Volkswagen beneath a beige blanket of trench coat in a glinting shower of gold. Gaze trained toward the wakening yellow world beyond the glazed glass, dawn light reflecting in his blues, Cas lifts his cheek from where it rests upon a pillow of passion-tangled hair to peer at the sleep-limp form cradled in his arms. He admires the softness of your slumbering features, lines of tension smoothed away save for the hint of a contented smile dimpling the corner of your mouth; lips stained deeply pink and crease-roughened from his kisses part slightly in regular shallow exhalation.

The angel would happily stay here holding you, like this, forever. Well, perhaps not exactly here.

Nearby, penetrating the cocoon of comfort, the school bus engine squeals and cranks to life; the motor’s steady purr thrums the otherwise still morning atmosphere, initiating a throng of motion in the resistance encampment.

It’s time to go.

Cas traces the pad of a finger across the tranquil stretch of flesh above your brow, murmuring your name in a low note to gently rouse you.

The skin stirs in a swirl beneath the tip; a sigh of reluctance – resonating a few loosely strung syllables of complaint in ceding to consciousness – flares your nostrils at the disturbance of your seraphim-induced serenity.

Snagging your jaw with a hooked forefinger to bend your aspect upward, he whispers a kiss of apology over the trembling landscape of plush pouting lips, answering the aversion contained in the incoherent moan with a soothing sentiment of, “Wake, my love.”

The words arouse an aching echo of the night’s pleasures in weary limbs. Yawning, you reflexively curl closer to the celestial warmth of his vessel, the cool caress of the cabin air over bared breasts as the drape of his coat drags downward going unnoticed in the balmy heat of his embrace. Liberating your lovingly caught chin with a squirm, you bury a burgeoning Cheshire cat grin into the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. “Mornin’, my angel,” you mumble against the cloth.

The arm encasing your waist circles tighter, he brushes a smiling kiss to your forehead and closes his eyes. Maybe you can squander just a few more minutes cherishing the moment; this closeness – the intimacy shared – it feels so very right to a being accustomed to everything he touches going wrong. Despite the doubt creeping in that in his experience good always comes at a cost of bad to maintain a cosmic balance, gratitude glistens his lid fettered lashes – surely he has given enough and you exist as his equilibrium.

Knuckles sharply thwack the window where Cas’ shoulder leans. A pair of sparkling amber orbs looms outside, staring in at your starting figures within; smug amusement simmers in the shine, incapacitating the scolding seriousness otherwise comprising Gabriel’s attempted scowl. “Rise and shine, lovebirds. The bus is leaving. Like, literally.”

“We-we’re coming,” Cas stutters, fidgeting fingers focused on protecting your modesty from Gabe’s prowling gaze.

“So I heard. I’m pretty sure everyone heard. Was that five or six times? Cause a few of us started taking bets – I’ve got a cool grand riding on the orgasmic advantages of angelic endurance.” The archangel crooks a brow askance.

Cas’ countenance reddens at the disclosure. In retrospect, he can’t deny having gotten carnally carried away, garnering immense satisfaction at hearing you scream his name and losing himself, gutturally growling, resetting your delight-devastated nerves with a sweep of grace and redoubling his efforts to increase the deafening decibel of your pleasure each time you came undone.

Reaching across your blushingly silenced seraph, you smack a warning palm to the glass. “Scram!” you squeeze the demand between gritted teeth, clenched not in anger, but to subdue a snicker over the fact that, senses submerged in ecstasy, you completely lost the capacity to count; you’re not even sure how, or when, you came to occupy in the car.

“Fine, fine. I’d tell you not to get your panties in a twist, but-” Waggling his eyebrows, Gabe raises a familiar and hastily discarded satin garment into view – the skimpy lace-trimmed number entirely impractical in nature for navigating the ruins of an apocalypse but perfectly tailored to accentuate feminine wiles definitely belongs to you. Satisfied by the crimson hue of surprise hotly shading his brother’s cheeks and yours, he straightens, nonchalantly secures the forsaken unmentionable in a pocket for God only knows what reason, and conceals a smirk with the turn of his torso.

You sit up, shivering in sudden notice of the brisk temperature, fishing at your feet for anything to cover your naked body.

Cas follows, chasing the lost contact to lay his lips on the goose-prickled canvas of your back as he fastens the buttons of his shirt and re-knots his tie; the muscles move beneath his lips as you search for clothes. “Gabriel can be-”

“A real prick?” you offer, finding your rumpled tee, jacket, bra, and jeans in the foot well. You assume the missing boots are somewhere in the vicinity, the archangel’s pockets not being large enough to swallow those.

“Yes. I do believe that is an apt descriptor.” Cas noses the point of your shoulder, relinquishing the spot of skin to help you shimmy the shirt over your head.

The engine of the bus guns, fueling the fury of your fingers to slide denim up cramped legs, a final call to hop on the life raft to a new world. “C’mon, Let’s go!”

Cas pushes the creaky-hinged door wide, stands, stuffs his shirt into his trousers, secures the zipper and unlatched buckle of his belt, and stoops pick up the pair of boots beside the deflated rot-rubber of the rear tire.

You swing out your legs, squinting against the brightness of an unusually unclouded sky, trade him the trench coat for the boots, and stick your sockless feet into the leather soles, not bothering with the laces.

Cas thrusts out a hand to help you up.

Accepting the chivalrous aid, you fall in step alongside the seraph. He snugs his fingers to secure you close, wordlessly indicating his intent not to let go until you are safe and home.

“Cas! Just in time,” Dean shouts, seeing your approach; the hunter’s attention flits briefly to the entwined hands swinging between you and the angel. He spares a fleeting smile. As far as he’s concerned the development calls for a freaking celebration replete with champagne, but now and here are neither the time nor place. His ephemeral gladness dissolves. “You two, on the bus with Lucifer. Mom’s in the back, Bobby’s on point, and I need your eyes up front, got it?”

Cas nods, the gravity of what Dean is asking for abundantly clear – he wants Cas watching the devil for signs of danger, not the road.

“Good,” Dean rasps, “we got one chance and less than two hours.” He leaves the remainder unsaid – the endless number of variables that could go wrong and get them all dead, or worse.

The sinew of Cas’ grip stiffens as Lucifer meanders past, the devil’s arm affectionately arranged across Jack’s shoulders and a self-satisfied grin creasing his cheeks as he casts a smug glance backward at a trailing Sam.

You rub reassurance up and down the angel’s arm.

“What happened?” Cas asks in a hushed tone as Sam sidles up.

“Don’t ask,” Sam mutters, his mouth pressed into a thin and pale strip.

As the boy and his father part ways, Dean ushers the Nephilim into the Jeep to ride alongside Gabe. Bow-legs clambering into the driver’s seat, the elder Winchester gestures for you all to quit standing around and get moving.

Cas strides forward, pivoting to look into your eyes as you cover the short distance to the bus. Whatever happiness lit the lines of his stoic aspect before is smothered again by solemnity. “No matter what happens, don’t let go,” he says.

“Okay,” you agree. You squeeze his hand, a clasp so firm your own fingers tingle and if he were human he’d be imploring, Mercy! With the cinch, you include a prayer. ‘You either.’

Never, he thinks, pausing at the bus’s door. “And don’t-” His emphasis and his eyes roll backward to indicate Lucifer.

Satan is smiling, drumming to some song only he can hear on the steering wheel.

“Don’t let him get under your skin,” Cas finishes, shifting to push you up the stairs ahead of him.

You slip into the seat directly behind the devil, near enough to make out each strand of unruly dirty blond hair lidding his vessel’s scalp.

“Heya bro!” Lucifer flashes a sinister smile and winks as Cas ascends to join you. “If the trailer’s rockin’ don’t come knockin,’ eh?”

Cas merely squints in response to the provocation. He perches beside you, setting a palm on your thigh.

Lucifer shifts the bus into gear, accelerating the straining diesel machinery into a steady lurch on a rigid and unforgiving suspension into the whirlwind of dust kicked up by the Jeep. Silence not being the devil’s strength, he lowers his voice to a reflective octave, observing, “Don’t think I don’t know what you were doing out there all night, Castiel.” Having possessed Cas and cohabited his vessel, he knows precisely how to push the seraph’s buttons to incite a reaction and maximize pain.

The taper of Cas’ lids intensifies. He rises to the bait, snorting, “And what is it you think I was doing?”

Lucifer’s spine relaxes into the seat, confident, contemplating aloud, “I get it, you’re jealous of the bond I have with my son. I don’t blame you for wanting to sow some wild oats of your own. Fatherhood’s a pretty sweet deal.” It’s a rich assumption, suggesting Cas is simply using you as a surrogate to gestate a Nephilim. It illustrates Lucifer’s total dismissal of all emotion entering a given equation save that which is self-serving. It would never occur to him in a billion years that Cas loves you.

You lay your palm over where Cas’ claims your thigh to ensure him you don’t give any credence to what Lucifer says.

Ignoring his advice to you on the subject, Cas sasses back, “I’m not envious of what you think exists between you and Jack. Which, by the way, is nothing.” In a roundabout way he’s doing as Dean asked – keeping Lucifer distracted, even if it is at his personal expense.

“Sure you aren’t, Casanova,” Lucifer swallows a chortle, charges around a curve of road a little too quickly and careens the passengers against the windows and into the aisle. Cas cushions you with his body, bracing himself on the post and simultaneously snagging Bobby by the coat collar to prevent him from vacating the open threshold by centrifugal force.

“Sorry!” Looking over his shoulder, Lucifer gesticulates a disingenuous wave of apology. “Sorry folks, won’t happen again.” Mildly disappointed to see Mary’s outline still obstinately occupying the rear door. He takes the next turn equally as fast and would slam on the brakes to ensure success if the bus actually had them.

“Hey, asshat!” You smack the back of Lucifer’s head, inciting not a smart sting of pain, but a scorch upon his pride. The choice of insult emerges as pure coincidence, for Cas hasn’t told you the story of Stull Cemetery and their stand there against Lucifer, yet. Steadying Bobby, the seraph is too late to stop you from saying more. “I suggest you keep your mind off Cas’ love life and keep your eyes on the road.”

If not for a single word in the middle of the statement – love – and the boundless possibilities of pain it contains for how he could use it against Castiel, the devil would’ve snapped his twitching fingers then and there to dissolve you, molecule by molecule, into human soup and considered in epic poetry. Instead, he lifts his foot off the accelerator to coast around the bend ahead, gets a good look at you by adjusting the wobbling rearview mirror, and sneers.

Next: Ch. 23 - Begin the Begin

[digimondestined]

1-50 :D (for xxx: Blurred Lines; 42: Aokise Songfics (Need You Now); 46: Try- and Keep Trying; 47, made up title: In the man behold a child) ❤️

1) How old were you when you first starting writing fanfiction?

Oof.  12 ish? FFNet But we don’t speak about it; the site or the writing :P

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one?

Right now, I’m more invested in aokise / knb fandom and well, once invested, it’s hard to pull my focus :P Other fandoms I’m interested in writing in as of the moment are Owari No Seraph (Gureshin :P) and Seven Deadly Sins (man, that’s lovely hell)

3) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer.

Probably OCs? I haven’t written OC’s in a while but heck, reader inserts sounds kinda of awkward to write :P

4) What is your favourite genre to write for?

…is angst with a happy ending a genre?(Otherwise maybe coming of age?)

5) If you had to choose a favourite out of all of your multi chaptered stories, which would it be and why?

Blurred Lines is the only one that has an actual plot :P and is multi chaptered :P. It’s also got a couple of my favorite tropes such as mutual pining & simultaneous obliviousness. To be honest, I normally don’t edit my works before I put them out (sometimes I’ll get a loving friend to look at it tho :PPPPPP) because I can’t bear reading what I’ve written without cringing, but yeah, I thought Blurred Lines was pretty good :D in terms of writing skill because I’ve been able to read it again aha and I thank all the wonderful people who showered me the work with compliments.

6) If you had to delete one of your stories and never speak of it again, which would it be and why?

LMAO WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I HAVEN’T ALREADY? If I delete stories, it’s always for the reason I’m disappointed with it in hindsight, or xD embarrassed I produced such poo.

7) When is your preferred time to write?

Night time becuz I like to procrastinate, it’s quiet and the dark is cozy.

8) Where do you take your inspiration from?

Other writers/stories, canon material, music, random insights at odd times, prompts sparked by single words or little phrases, prompts from sites or book quotes or from friends and epiphanies, and then mostly I don’t :P 

9) In your Blurred Lines fic, what’s your favourite scene that you wrote?

Chapter 5, the (two I guess?) scene where Aomine’s really upset and Kise makes it his job to take his mind off of it; it’s a memorable moment for both of them because Kise’s determination and hard work really gets to show (SEIRIN GAH; jskghjkghg sg lgsg gsjlsd) in front of two people that mean a lot: himself and Aomine, and for Aomine, it’s an example of how he can be weak and injured too, and is so much more than some give him credit for.

10) In your fic, why did you decide to end it like that? Did you have an alternative ending in mind? Nah, I really liked how it ended actually :) Happy after endings are my favorite :)

11) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it?

I’ve only gotten harsh criticism once or twice and man, you should’ve seen me RAWRR in their faces :P. Sometimes self criticism- ex: dislike of plot- will get me to edit though; and then there are just times where I’ve been lazy but reading the work, I’ll see flaws that definitely have to be changed and will proceed to do so.

12) Who is your favourite character to write for? Why?

Aomine and Kise are the most fun imo. I go wild with both because of the complexity to both their characters and simply, the inspiration you can see from different works of other authors (Ex: MoustachePenguin wrote JustBreathe with Kise who had crushing depression and KaijosCopyCat wrote When It Rains, It Rains Bullets, where Kise is actually more jaded than Aomine is); point being said, there’s enough material to make a lot reasonable.Kise is fun for his masks and layers; Aomine is great for his relativity. And of course, you can always find a way to knit in angst of some sort :P 

13) Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why?

Lots man. Kuroko, Murasakibara-

14) How did you come up with the title for the xxx? - You can ask about multiple stories. 

SO. Remember how it was planned as a one-shot aha :P I’d gotten 3 chapters and ½ written out before I said screw it and posted them before gradually working on the rest :P 

Anyways, I’d only then finished on a final summary, and with one of the parts being “Lines Blurring”, I thought heck let’s roll with that.

Oh also! Had a hard time getting that summary out. gotta thank my special, one and only snowflake.

15) If you write OC’s, how do you decide on their names?

- Likes to indulge myself; I’ll base OCs of some real characters, then twinkle with the name little bit, maybe adding extra letters or finding names with similar meanings?

- It also has to do with how the name tastes. You know how some words just flow better? (Connotation and all that :P) but like, Jewel over Gem, Crystal over Jewel, Ruby over Everything, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc.

16) How did you come up with the idea for xxx?

Was a prompt- (voldetort :P)

but i was given an open ending option and then i took it and ran with it and turned it into angst with happy ending :P

17) Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on.

Kise stuck out his tongue, Aomine smirked, and they let Momoi laugh herself dry.

18) Do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

Yah, who doesn’t? :PP (atop of the temporarily abandoned WIPs :PPP) Either loss of enthusiasm, lack of ability (time, but mostly procrastination :P) to write, or post-insights that lemme realize the story is unsatisfying to the point of repulsive :P

19) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?

Maybe Blurred Lines? Struggle them through 2nd year of school, relationship where it’s so much more precious than a regular, “we-just-began-a-”relationship” because of the stakes. (But then I’d have to like write a conflict???and my inability to be creative would hinder that :P)

20) Are there any stories that you wished you’d ended differently?

I haven’t really “ended” any stories of worthy length, but for Blurred Lines :P. Which had an okay ending in my opinion, though maybe hurriedly carried out XDI imagine when I do get to finishing more/other stories, I might? Because I can be impulsive. :P But then again, I take a heck long time to procrastinate; and sometimes that means more time to think about how a story wants to go- in these cases, I don’t, usually :)

21) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?

I am heck into lots of writers.

Roch; VanillaDaydreams22 (tumblr) and just VanillaDaydreams (ao3) is a great friend and writer :P with a lovely, descriptive style of fluid writing.

A famous one would be moustachiopenguin - wrote lots of heart wrenching stories; aha we both know :P So, imagination, use of plot, detail, etc.

And then there’s an up and new coming one; her name starts with a Y and ends with a U.

22) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?

Literally all of them. :P Anything from over 4-6 months in particular is a bit of, no thanks :P

23) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence?

I prefer music, even though sometimes it’s not helpful and actually, is a hindrance :P but music always helps the mood~

24) How do you feel about writing smutty scenes?

Laughs.

25) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story?

Writing? Nah. Reading? Heck, few times.

26) Which part of your Blurred Lines fic was the hardest to write?

All of it cause I didn’t want to write it, I wanted to waste time~

- In the later chapters, carrying out Aomine’s realization for feelings was a little difficult; I had Satsuki sort of catalyze his action, because he’s pretty heckin determined to get Kise in his unconscious mind; Satsuki’s rejection just enforces the feeling he needs to express himself, though hard. But I occasionally would wonder whether Aomine was made too soft, or OOC in general.

27) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow?

My impulsiveness pushes me towards flow; but for fics requiring detail, general outline help XD no matter how “general”.

28) What is something you wished you’d known before you started posting fanfiction?

Maybe just the fact that the fandoms I’d get to were in existence :D like how some of us talked about, would have been pretty cool to write with the other gazillion of fan- tho, then again, wouldn’t trade them for you guys aha

There’s a lot of things I’ve learned from it and only with the actual writing action have I come to understand the things :P

29) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?

Maybe Lazy or No Questions Asked. Lazy, because it was the first time I’d written something short but with a bit of story to it still, y’know? :P And then No Questions Asked because I just love the trope of uncertainty and obliviousness and pining in the middle of aokise.

30) In contrast to 29 is there a story which gets lots of love which you kinda eye roll at?

Honestly? Say It. It was short and okay but like, plot-wise? Not sure if it deserved all the kindness it/I got XD

32) Are any of your characters based on real people?

I haven’t written any OCs in a while! I imagine one I get back to doing so, they could be :P

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

Not quite sure. I have shit memory sometimes aha, but all the support is good :D

34) What’s the harshest criticism you’ve gotten?

On one of my first fics, which I’d written 24 chapters / 40K (GASP I KNOW :D IT’LL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN *SMILES THROUGH THE TEARS OF SAD*) I was told the other chapters should be deleted because it was so bad. But like, the reader had posted said criticism through at least half of the work so :P and a couple of chapters later, said, “This is better! But change everything before this.”I actually got a lot of help/reviews becasue I’d asked for them from various authors aha and fandom was popular and lively; the criticism just went straight through my ears I think. XD

35) Do you share your story ideas with anyone else or do you keep them close to your chest?

I like getting a second opinion if I’m insecure about the idea (often, you guessed right

36) Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s?

No.

jkjk :P I currently have 4 active WIPs. 1. SECRET (for fanzine :PP), 2. As Long As You Love Me (CJ’s prompt) 3. Some Stuff Has Actually Changed 4. Oops I Did It Again

37) What’s the funniest story you’ve written?

What is humor explain??!?!?

38) If you could collab with any other writer on here, who would it be? (Perhaps this question will inspire some collabs!) If you’re shy, don’t tag the blog, just name it.

- You silly.- Roch + CJ- You, super lovely

39) Do you prefer first, second or third person?

3rd for the most of it. I’ve never written with 1st before but I’m considering it for a work that’d require an extensive cast. 2nd also strikes me as fun though, because of this angsty story I’d read where Kise was the narrator but done through 2nd? 2nd also seems very poetic and I’d like to try it out some day for fun :P

40) Do people know you write fanfiction?

Yeet :P

41) What’s you favourite minor character you’ve written?

Nijimura, Jellal, you name it XD all of them??? You know my tendency to avoid protagonists :P

42) Song fic - What made you decide to use the song Need You Now

It’s a quarter after one, I’m all alone and I need you nowSaid I wouldn’t call but I lost all control and I need you nowAnd I don’t know how I can do without, I just need you now

Angsty and perfect for pining ships.

43) Has anyone ever guessed the plot twist of one of your fics before you posted it?

LMAO I’ve never written a fic long enough for a plot twist to occur; B) I DON’T WRITE PLOT?? XD

44) What is the last line you wrote?

A victory, Kise should think, should be thinking. What is there instead is empathy, but sadness anyways. Oh Aominecchi…

45) What spurs you on during the writing process?

Not much. There are periods of time when I don’t want to write at all and I will find excuses of any kind to get off my laptop, or stay on, and just not write aha. What helps is typically at night when I feel semi-tired, I’ll be motivated to write enough to be a pleasant thought before bed.

46) I really loved your Try and Keep Trying fic. If you were ever to do a sequel, what do you think might happen in it?

GoM have a Winter Cup Banquet and there’s alcohol there. AoKise has done a lot more pining and both gotten better at hiding it. They meet awkwardly at the event becuz of their friends talking to each of their friends and then suddenly disappearing while AoKise are startled, staring at each other. Cautious tense talk tried to be made easier by both of them; Kise makes a joke like, “Alcohol would make this a little easier, right Aominecchi?”

And Aomine blurts out stupid becuz high strung, smth like, “Is that what you thought the last time?”

AND THEN, Kise is also high strung right, so his reply is probably something dumb; maybe a few more lines and then:

KISE ACCIDENTALLY CALLS HIM ‘DAIKI’ AND THEY BOTH JUST FREEZE AND BLUSH PROFUSELY BC THEY’RE REMINDED OF THE KISS AND FDSJFS AHO REALIZES KISE DID N O T FORGET - and he’ quick to press Kise for an explanation but Kise is sure this is going to lead to heartbreak, that Aomine’s frantic (heart beating at 12432 beats a second) and desperate (to know becuz becuz if Kise- if Ryouta-) demands of Kise to tell him the truth are from a place of piss/fury. When Aomine realizes Kise is only shying away from his emotional cornering/words more and more, Aomine does the only thing he can think of and kisses Kise again and again and again.

Kise realizes he means it, Aomine is almost heartbroken over how Kise couldn’t understand he meant it; both are overwhelmingly overjoyed becuz c’mon. MUTUAL pining, not just pining :P and then THAT turns into cautious, hopeful, cautious prompts for dating.

47) Here’s a fic title - In the man behold a child

(Uni AU)Aomine pines after Kise’s ass and he constantly sends him is inviting him: “C’mon Kise, kiss me and I’ll shut up forever.” and “C’mon Kise, I’d be a great fuckbuddy. No string attached but sex. I’ll be gone immediately.”, lots of, “C’mon Kise. I’m fun. I’ll give you want you want, what you need.” and more earnest and genuine stuff, “I know I sound like I’m kidding, and maybe parts of me were…but I meant it when I said I love you. And I’ll wait until you finally hear I’m fully serious.”

Eventually, Kise comes to realize he is serious. The fact that Aomine really has matured as a person over time and that he really loves Kise.  Who also realizes maybe a little bit of the fact that he’d never needed a real relationship because Aomine sort of checked off all the boxes; and so, (poetically aha; i thought of this at last moment XD) child Kise is also revealed in man Kise for being oblivious and little bit scared (because that’s what teens/kids are good at Aha?)

Ofc, then Kise finally says yes, though hesitant still; Aomine takes him slowly through love and all the good stuff :P

48) What’s your favourite trope to write?

Angst with a Happy Ending, Mutual Pining/Obliviousness & Uncertainty, Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers to Enemies to Friends to Lovers, anything with a slight of it’s hard and if we’re not being told we’re gonna make it through, how can i be reassured now that we will; but you’ve got friends to rely on so it’ll be okay OTHERWISE KNOWN AS Angst with a Happy Ending :P

49) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about?

Something from Warrior Cats

50) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

(Both both is good)

YOU CAN’T MAKE ME CHOOSE.

But like, if angst with a happy ending counts as angst??? Than that :PFluff is good but you have to have a reason that makes it even sweeter :P

[humansunshineao3]

Fighting the Good Fight [Ch. 1]

Alec Lightwood just wants to run his Institute in peace.

This is the story that could've unfolded if Jace didn't exist.

Rating: General Audiences (may change later)

Pairings: Magnus/Alec, Clary/Izzy

Tags: Jace doesn't exist, transgender alec lightwood, retelling of the TV show.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I might update the summary because it's TRASH lmao

#recastjace #firedom

Oh also, Alec is transgender in this fic, but he's already out, so if you're looking for angsty coming out fic, you're looking in the wrong place!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Episode One: The Mundane Who Sees

Alec hated shapeshifter demons more than anything.

He had battled worse evils, grosser creatures, more irritating foes, but nothing made him quite so anxious and angry as having to hunt down a shapeshifter demon.

This one had been easy to track; so far it hadn’t clocked him, and hadn’t bothered to change its shape. Alec placed himself at a fruit stand, tucking his hand into his pocket as the demon approached and making a point to look at the dodgy-looking pineapples in the box in front of him. He felt cold, letting the demon pass behind his back, but the second he spotted it again out of his peripheral vision he was after it once more.

Alec snarled under his breath as he noticed the demon walk into a woman, changing shape effortlessly into a perfect likeness of her, clothes and all. He gritted his jaw against the wave of rageful jealousy that welled up in his stomach.

If only it were that easy.

“Careful, big brother,” Izzy soothed, appearing next to him, “you’ll give yourself stress lines.”

By now Alec must have been conditioned to relax in Izzy’s presence, because he felt his shoulders ease the moment she fell into step besides him. “Stress lines are the least of my worries. The demon just went into the warlock’s club, big surprise. You go round the back, I’ll go in the front. Hang back.” He ordered, adjusting his bow on his shoulder.

He kept an eye on Izzy as she strutted off around the back of the club, and didn’t notice the mundane until he literally almost mowed her down.

“Hey!” She yelped, and Alec’s head shot up, lip curling as she looked right at him and said, “could you watch where you’re going?”

Alec narrowed his eyes at her. “Weird,” he muttered, before turning on his heel and jogging into the club. His rune was definitely active; none of the other mundanes noticed when he brushed up against them.

Huh.

The redhead mundane was soon forgotten as he walked into the nightclub. He wasn’t a fan of crowds; he didn’t like people pressing against his chest, their confused looks when they felt the give of his binder. His throat closed up at the thought, and he ducked his head, using his heat vision rune to find the demon in the confusion of the room.

As he got closer, he noticed the circle runes on the necks of the two men meeting with the demon. Alec swallowed hard, wishing that it wasn’t so loud so that he could hear what was being said. After a few moments, the demon walked on towards the back of the club, and Alec swerved round the warlock that owned the place on his way to intercept the shapeshifter.

When he reached the back room, Izzy was already dancing on a platform, swaying her hips to tempt in the demons. Alec smirked; demons were predictable, and they flocked to her like moths to a flame. The only one that hung back was the one who’d transformed into a girl outside, and Alec wandered over to her, pursing his lips and trying to act casual.

“So… Heard you were dealing in mundane blood…” He had to sort of yell over the music, so it wasn’t as smooth as he’d hoped. Still, she seemed to take the bait.

“Why? Looking to score?” She purred, looking him up and down, her hand coming up to touch his shoulder, and Alec choked on his own saliva.

“What? No!”

“What do you want, shadowhunter?” The demon asked, her eyes settling on Alec’s quiver.

Alec straightened up a little. “I want you to tell me who’s buying from you.”

“You’re outnumbered here,” she pointed out, glancing to the side. As he followed her gaze, Alec realised that the demons who had been watching Izzy had now turned to look at him.

He smiled. This? This, he could deal with. “I like our odds.” He heard the unmistakeable sound of Izzy’s whip uncoiling, and quickly notched an arrow.

“Watch out!” He heard someone scream, and then he was being knocked to the ground by that damned mundane from before. Alec shoved her away, leaping to his feet in time to land an arrow into the demon closest to him.

“Get out of the way, you fucking idiot!” Alec hissed as the mundane staggered to her feet, pushing her behind him as he started firing arrows off at the demons. There were too many of them, and without a vantage point it was proving difficult to keep them off himself. He grabbed for his seraph blade and spun into action, cutting demons down left, right and centre.

The mundane wouldn’t stop fucking screaming.

“Here!” Izzy tossed the mundane a seraph blade like she’d somehow be able to wield it, and honestly, for a moment Alec was distracted because as the mundane’s hand touched the handle of the blade, it shone brightly.

What the fuck?

“Alec!” Izzy screamed, and he turned just in time to get smacked across the head by a demon. He grabbed for his blade desperately, wincing at the sound of the demon’s gross quadruple jaws snapping above him. When he turned back over, armed with his blade, the demon was disintegrating, and the redheaded mundane was standing over him, looking traumatised.

Alec hurried to get to his feet, running his hand through his hair. “We need to get out of here before more come along.” The demons had been dealt with for now, but it was only a matter of time before their friends came back from the bar. “Anyway, you should probably come with us, you…”

The mundane was gone.

“Alec, we need to find her, she’s a liability. If she tells anyone what she saw…”

“They’ll just think she’s drunk,” Alec shrugged, collecting his arrows where they lay scattered on the floor.

Izzy glared at him.

“You…” Alec pinched the bridge of his nose. “You think she’s cute, don’t you?”

“I’m just saying I should follow her home,” Izzy sighed, tugging Alec from the club by the crook of his arm. “It’s not like I’m needed at the institute right now. I can talk some sense into her… She is one of us.”

Alec pursed his lips, considering it. “You have four hours. Either bring her back to the institute or let her figure it out on her own, got it? You’re not leaving me with all the paperwork again.”

“You got it, big brother,” Izzy beamed, going on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Love you!”

“Love you,” he grumbled, wiping the lipstick from his cheek. He shifted his neck from side to side, hissing a little at the way it made his binder tug painfully at his ribs. It had been eight hours since he’d put it on, and now that he wasn’t on red alert he could feel the strain on his lungs.

He really needed to get home.

It seemed like every time he took a step towards his room, someone came up to him with a problem. Alec was panting by the time he shut his bedroom door behind him, hastily yanking his shirt off over his head and slithering out of his binder. He gasped for breath as his chest fell free, wincing as he massaged his sore ribs. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he grabbed for the nearest t-shirt and pulled it over his head, sliding into the chair at his desk.

“Alec? Have you got the report yet?” Raj stuck his head around the door, and Alec rolled his eyes slightly.

“I literally just sat down. Give me half an hour, alright? I’ll bring it to your room.” He murmured, not turning to look at the disdainful look that Raj was no doubt shooting him. The click of the door told Alec that he was gone, and his shoulders sagged, grabbing a report form from his desk drawer and clicking his pen a few times as he thought back over the night’s events.

On his way back from Raj’s room, he spotted Izzy carrying the redhead mundane from before over her shoulder, looking ruffled. He sighed, and headed over to them, meeting her eyes.

“Got Princess Peach then, did you?” Alec asked, leaning around to see that the mundane was knocked out cold. “What happened?”

“I had to save her from a demon,” Izzy shrugged, mischief shining in her eyes. “She swooned and fell right into my arms. Works every time.”

“Pretty sure that was the venom, but whatever you need to tell yourself.” Alec snorted, holding out his arms.

Izzy smiled at him in thanks, handing over the mundane’s floppy body. Alec carried her bridal style to the infirmary, Izzy stretching out her arms as she walked next to him. They got some odd looks, but Alec was used to those, and instead used the time to scrutinise the mundane’s face, looking for familiar features. Surely she must have some relation to someone…

Perhaps he should send a fire message to mother.

He wrinkled his nose, dismissing that thought as soon as it occurred to him. No, he’d deal with this mundane himself.

She came round almost as soon as Alec set her down on the bed, and he huffed. Obviously. She sat straight up in bed, headbutting Izzy right in the face as she sank down onto the bed. Alec snorted.

“Ow,” Izzy said, looking down at the mundane with cautious curiosity.

“Wait… I don’t know you.”

“I’m Isabelle,” Izzy explained, “Lightwood. I’ve never met a mundane who can see through our runes before.”

Alec sighed, unable to stop himself. Izzy had an unfortunate habit of falling for straight girls, and he could just smell the heterosexual on the mundane. As the mundane spluttered and demanded explanations, Alec patted Izzy on the shoulder.

“I’m going to go and lie down, alright?” He said softly, and she nodded, not taking her eyes off the mundane girl. Alec blinked at her a few times, shaking his head a little as he walked away.

This could only end badly.

“All I’m saying is that there’s no such thing as new Shadowhunters. She must be lying.” Alec insisted, allowing Izzy to latch onto his arm a few hours later, once Clary, the mundane, had gone back to sleep.

“We can’t just assume that she’s lying, big brother. That would be rude.”

“Who said I wasn’t rude?” Alec retorted. “I’d rather risk my manners than the safety of this institute. If she can’t tell us who she is, she needs to leave.” He stopped short in the corridor. “Don’t you find it weird that she showed up and just ruined our biggest mission yet? Isn’t that a weird coincidence?”

Izzy sighed. “You’re so paranoid.”

“I have reason to be,” Alec grumbled, putting his hands on his hips. “That girl is going to be nothing but trouble, I can feel it.”

“Relax, big brother. I’ll keep an eye on her, I promise.”

Alec looked away at the window, and back at his sister. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

The smile Izzy gave him made him feel like she wasn’t listening to him, and he rolled his eyes a little. “Oh, come on, she’s cute.”

“That’s why she worries me. You don’t know how to say no to a pretty face.”

Izzy laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist. He begrudgingly hugged her back. “Thank you for looking out for me, big brother, but I can handle myself.”

Alec watched as she more or less skipped away to see to Clary, feeling her excitement through their rune. His eyes slipped closed.

Christ.

He mentally reminded himself to order extra ice cream for when this inevitably blew up in his little sister’s face.

“Oh.” Alec turned to leave, only to find a mundane standing right behind him. He looked around wildly, eyes going wide. “How the hell did you get in here?!”

“You were talking about Clary. Are you going to kill her?!”

The mundane was cute enough, Alec supposed. Round glasses and a light jacket. He looked like a strong breeze could blow him over. Alec folded his arms.

“I don’t kill mundanes,” he pointed out. “But you need to get out of here. This isn’t a place for a mundane.”

“Simon!” Clary appeared behind him, and Simon rushed past him, wrapping her up in a hug. “Thank God you’re here, this place is crazy.”

“I tried to explain to her what a shadowhunter was. Apparently she called for back-up when I left her alone earlier,” Izzy muttered, going to Alec’s side.

Alec pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as the two mundanes yelped at each other.

“We need to go and find Luke.”

“We can’t trust Luke!”

“You’re one of us, Clary,” Izzy soothed, taking her elbow. “I know you can feel it. Your skin took the runes; you’re a shadowhunter.”

“You runed her?!” Alec shouted, eyes bugging out of his head. “She could have turned into a forsaken! Have you lost your goddamn mind?!”

Izzy looked a little sheepish, but she shrugged him off. “She didn’t.”

“Clary, you don’t know these people,” Simon pointed out, “they’re dangerous.”

Clary looked between the two of them, then at Alec, stricken.

“If you took the runes, we need to find out who you are,” Alec insisted, though the words almost physically pained him. This was going to be such a headache to report to the Clave.

Clary swallowed hard. “I want to find out who I am.”

“Peachy,” Alec tutted, “but your little mundie friend needs to go.”

“No way, I’m staying with her!” Simon insisted, grabbing Clary’s arm.

Alec and Izzy exchanged a hopeless look.

“Fuck it, I’m going to bed. Wake me if the mundane gets killed by the wards.” He waved over his shoulder to Izzy, smirking as he heard Simon start to splutter.

Next Chapter 

[drabblesaf]

Rogue - Derek Hale Imagine

REQUESTED: Yes, requested by anon!

“Can I get a Teen Wolf one-shot? The reader is a Shadowhunter and lives in the Institute in Beacon Hills, California and she's the same age as Derek and there's a rogue werewolf lurking around and the Clave gives her a mission to find out who the werewolf is and report back to them so they can deal with it and she crosses paths with Derek's pack, who are also tracking the werewolf, and they team up to track the werewolf, she reports back to the Clave, and then she and Derek end up dating. No smut”

WARNINGS: Slight swearing? Idk, nothing too drastic.

SUMMARY: As a Shadowhunter, it’s your responsibility to try and keep the peace between the Downworlders, the Mundanes, and the Nephilim. When a rogue werewolf starts causing chaos in your local enclave, Beacon Hills, you have to enlist the help of a certain sour wolf and his pack, who you end up falling for in the process.

NOTES: I kind of never had the chance to catch up on the latest series of Shadowhunters, so my terminology may be a bit rusty.

Also, very first Derek imagine so this will be getting a new section in the masterlist.

Hope you enjoy!

“(Y/N), you heard about that werewolf who’s been making trouble for the Downworlders?” Adrian, one of the assistants from the Clave said, drumming his fingers on the table in front of me as he leaned on it casually. 

“Yep, he’s also been causing problems for us Nephilim, and I take it he’s started terrorizing the Mundanes as well?” I sighed, and he nodded.

“There is a werewolf pack who have said that they will assist us with tracking them down, and they’re waiting in the front to talk to you.” I nodded at him and he walked with me down to the front, where I was faced with several teens and an attractive-looking moody guy with slight scruff.

“Derek Hale. We know you have a problem with a rogue werewolf, and would like to help you out, because it’s someone we’re also trying to find. The more manpower we have, the better. Are you willing to help us out with tracking down this guy?”

“If you’re willing to cooperate. I take it you have ties to him through your pack?” I asked, and he sighed. 

“He’s my uncle. And, if you’re wondering, I don’t care what happens to him, or how it happens. As long as he is out of our hair for good, and out of your hair too, then I don’t care what you have to do.”

After several months of working with the pack in order to track down Peter, Derek and I had grown closer. In fact, staying with the guy kind of gave us more of a connection, and I don’t quite know what it was about his moody demeanor, but somehow I’d managed to break through it once or twice, gaining a little smile which was rare according to his pack. 

“You ready to go in?” Derek asked me, and I nodded, clutching my Seraph blade confidently. At that point, I was feeling slightly shaky from how close he was to me. The problem as well was that when he’d been training at home in order to take down Peter, it had resulted in him doing it in front of me, and I could never truly pay attention to the research I had to do.

Him being at the Institute was even worse, because I was having to train him myself, which resulted in a lot of sweaty frustration that I ended up having to deal with in my own accommodation after our sessions. And I was so sure he could literally smell the lust and attraction pouring off me, but why he wasn’t doing anything about it all was beyond me.

We busted down the door to Peter’s apartment and had the obvious fight that was going to happen anyway. This Peter guy seemed less than happy about us wrecking his front door, but he was soon apprehended by the rest of Derek’s pack, and taken into secure confines. 

Derek slumped down next to me, his breathing heavier. “So, I meant to ask you at some point but could never find the time to do it. Once you’ve finished this mission and everything’s signed off, would you like to go to dinner with me?”

“You know what Hale, I may just take you up on that offer.”

[axelsagewrites]

Straight outta hell- Magnus Bane

Decided to make this longer Imagine being a powerful warlock and friend of Magnus Bane. Imagine your father was Lucifer and you were kidnapped to hell. You have now escaped and are even more powerful than Magnus

Summary

Magnus Bane was taught magic from the daughter of Lucifer. She was taken to hell without his knowledge and now shes back, but can she stay? and will it be the same?

I’ve been trapped down here for nearly two centuries. How is that possible? Simple, Im a warlock. My mother was a pagan in the 1500’s who tried to summon Lucifer, my father.  After my mother was burned at the stake for heresey I escaped into the Scottish highlands. I travelled for years helping downworlders adjust and made my friends that way. You might have heard of Ragnor Fell, taught him the basics. Camille Belcourt, stopped her frying herself (mistake) and told her what happened. My best friend, Magnus Bane. I found him when he was a 20 year old warlock trying to hide magic. I helped him develop and we became great friends. I introduced him to Camille and Ragnor. I don’t know what happened with him and Camille though because on the night he almost commit suicide. I was so distracted a demon was able to capture me. Damn you Azael. Now ive been trapped here and they are ‘training me’ to do my fathers work then free them. Like hell I will! I’ve been assigned to bring back a greater demon who was on earth terrorizing mundanes. ‘Father’ needs him back and dosnt want him to go to the void so he is sending me up as ive been a ‘loyal princess of hell’. That’s what he thinks anyway.

“Are you ready, girl?” Belial, a prince of hell sneered at me. “Yes, I am ready to assist Lucifer and bring back Leviathan” I stand tall in the pentagram. “Ahh that’s my girl” my ‘father’ said, throwing his arms up grinning, “ready to do me proud on your first mission?” “Of course daddy” I almost threw up in my mouth, “you can trust me” “I know. Let your mark show you know it makes you stronger, but hide it from the stupid Nemphilm. They cant be trusted. Oh and Asmodeus said send his ‘love’ to that Bane guy.” “Of course” I let my mark show. Vines crept up my arms, fire sprouted from my arms and my eyes went forest green. Who would of thought Lucifer would be so into nature. I started the incantation in an ancient tongue, known only to demons and the pentagram started to burn. My world was spinning around me during dark. As this was happening I screamed at the top of my lungs “Αρνούμαι τον σκοτεινό άρχοντα τον Εωσφόρο. ΠΑΝΤΙ τῳ ΠΛΗΡΩΜΑΤΙ άγγελοι υποκλίνομαι σε σας. κόλαση θα εξαπολύσει μου από τώρα μέχρι το τέλος. Έτσι πρέπει να είναι” My father screamed no as I repeated the Greek 3 times. He shot fire into the circle at me but it was to late. The angels had heard my plead that ‘I refuse the dark lord Lucifer. by the angels mercy I bow to you. hell will unleash me from now till the end. So it must be’.

Then the world went blinding white. Then a man in white walked up to me. “My name is Zadkiel, the archangel of freedom, benevolence, mercy. I heard your pleads and think we might be able to return you to earth.” “Please” I begged “I have done no wrong and have been trapped in hell. It was quite literally hell” He looked at me in slight disgust and wonder. “If you send the demon you have been sent to collect, to the void, you may stay on earth. If not you will be burned by heavenly fire. Understand?” “Completely” “Very well”

The next thing I knew I was outside a warehouse, yelling coming from inside. Once I walked in I knew why. 4 shadow hunters, a vampire and a warlock all fighting Leviathan. I let my mark show and charged to fight. I sent a blast of fire, to get his attention, to the demon and he turned to me. “Ahh my dear, tell your father I will return soon” he said grinning. “No” I said as I froze his opponents and walked towards him. “Ahh want a shot at getting revenge on the angels? Take a shot.” He moved back. They were lined up frozen, all in a fighting stance. A boy with a bow, a girl with a whip, a boy and girl with seraph blades. The vampire looked to be about to run and the warlock had been creating a ball of magic. “Magnus?” I whispered as I walked up and put a hand on his cheek when I noticed  Leviathan glaring at my back. He couldn’t suspect anything yet. As Magnus let a tear slip I straitened back up and said “your father sent his regards.” I could hear Leviathan smirk, he then said “as much as its fun to torture that things feelings, pick a hunter to fry.” I walked in between  Leviathan and the archer, facing the raven haired boy. I let Magnus speak, “Please not him. Pick me please” he pleaded almost crying “don’t do this we were friends” All though he couldn’t move I could tell the archer was terrified. “Him” Leviathan said smugly. Silently I raised my hands to form a ball of hell’s fire, then went to throw it like a ball. “No” Magnus was yelling.  As I went to throw my magic I turned and dropped to one knee and fired at  Leviathan.

(Without the wand) Leviathan burst into flames, screaming. I walked closer as he sank to his knees and put both my hands in front of me. I stopped, he looked at me and screamed “no no noooo” as I move my hand in a sharp line, as it cut his throat with a flame. He dissintagrated into the void. I released the hunters, vamp and Magnus, not facing them. “Hey you!” Blondie yelled, I started to stumble. I was drained. “Y/N” Magnus said, clear pain but happiness in his voice. Then I fell, black spots coming into view. Magnus caught me. “Hey,” I whispered “never thought id fall for you” I grinned sleepily up at him. “Only you”he chuckled and shook his head as I drifted to sleep. “Y/N” he said alert “are you okay?” “Bitch let me sleep” I mumbled.

Thinking of doing a part 2, let me know what you think.

Part 2   Part 3   Masterlist

[dlamp-dictator]

Allen’s End of the Year Rambling

Folks, I haven’t been in the best state this past year. 

I know that’s probably not the best way to open up for this summary of Allen’s 2018, but... I think it’s obvious from my lack of activity that I haven’t been pumping out essays and content like I usually have been. Things have been trying in the life of Allen X. I left my old job, started a new and frankly less fulfilling (and paying) job, had a handful of mental meltdowns, and generally not having a good year, at least not internally.

And on top of that this new season of the Senran Kagura anime is garbage, and that just makes me feel sad.

All in all, not having a great year. 

I wanted to do this Rambling in the same vein as last year, but... I can’t. I haven’t done my Anime and Video Game Updates that much this year, meaning I don’t have a good record of all the games I’ve played and anime I’ve watched this year, so I can’t do anything Top 5s this year. I mean, I watched a buttload of anime and played a lot of video games, but I just didn’t make a record of it, and I don’t like my lists being filled with just the most recent things I’ve watched and did. 

Ugh, this is just making me feel sad. I’m... just gonna’ get to the end of the year stuff now:  

Politics

And just like last year I’m gonna’ talk about the elephant in the room. 

God, as if I wasn’t feeling depressed enough.

Why is there a slowly growing Fascist movement in America? Why am I hearing about children being separated from their parents by our American government? Why are we still talking about that goddamn wall? Why is our government shutting down because of that goddamn wall? 

Like... Jesus folks, the most I do in terms of politics is a quick google check of who/what to vote for to make sure I’m not agreeing to legalizing arson, how the hell did we end up here?

...

...

...

Well, I know how we ended up here, but a deep dive into current American politics to back up my claims will take a bit more research than I care to delve into on this blog. It’s times like these that make me want to dig deeper into our politics and make people more aware of what’s going on, but I know I’m part of the problem as well. 

I’ll stand on my soapbox for a later date, but if you guys think that this is all a good thing, you’re wrong and I have nothing else to say to you.

Also, unfollow if you’re right leaning or a vocal Conservative. I want literally nothing to do with you.

Art

Okay, so for a bit of good news, I’ve been doing a lot more drawing, at least compared to last year. And save for my small bouts of self-loathing I think I’ve been improving. 

These two were done in the same year, and I think there’s been a lot of improvement. I want to get better with my proportions and general anatomy, but so far I think I’m doing alright. Might try and do comic stuff next year. Nothing too ambitious, maybe just some one or two-panel scenes with a setup and punchline.

Writing

Even more good new, I’m finally working on some original projects in terms of my writing. Well, working on them in earnest anyway. Yeah... Violaceous Storm wasn’t working out too well and I realized I can’t do any original work the same way I do my fanfics. Kung fu girls story is getting tweaked a little... well, a lot, and I’m also starting to work on a story about forest ninjas. I’m think of making them short stories or vignettes, more likely the former just given my current level as a writer. 

I’m also continuing to write Reversal Princess, along with dropping Rabid Avenger. Sadly, my heart just in it to keep working on a Tokyo Ghoul fanfic anymore given some of the issues I have with it as a story, among other things. 

I... haven’t talked about Reversal Princess yet, have I? I’ve been working on it one and off for about two years now... huh, I should fix that soon and do a Dictator’s Works on it.

Media

Again, haven’t been recording a lot of what I’ve watched, read, and played throughout this year, but here are the highlights:

Been getting back into the Fallout series despite everything happening with 76, and I plan on giving New Vegas a shot next year. Been enjoying this series a lot, at least 4, so I wanna’ see what the “good” Fallout game looks like.

As some of you might know, I’ve been getting into Girls Frontline since it first released and I’ve been enjoying it... yeah, that’s really it. Ingram and PKP are best girls.

I’ve gotten back into Elsword and it’s been... a trip. Being a Wind Sneaker main is suffering, but I’m having fun over all and can’t wait for Laby to come out here in the States.

Not that I’ve talked about it, but I’ve been keeping up with the Twin Star Exorcists manga, along with the Railgun series. I’m likely going to stop actively keeping up with these two series once the 14th volumes of both series come out. They’re great, but that’s all the money I’m willing to put into them for now.

Also got into Seraph of the End too. I’ve got... feelings about it I’ll talk about at a later date.

Been watching a lot of older anime lately now that Hi-Dive is on VRV. Might talk about those later.

Speaking of, I switched out my Crunchyroll account for VRV. Been liking it so far.

Plans and Hopes for the Future

I’m not going to bother with a Resolution this year since I think those go forgotten once February hits, but I’ll just talk about my hopes and overall plans for 2019 in terms of this blog and my online presence:

Finish Reversal Princess. I just want to finish this tournament arc and finally put it to bed so I can work on other things and fanfics.

Draw a comic. Not a web series or anything, but just draw some kind of three or four panel comic.

Actually do my monthly Update posts

Post lyrics again

And... that’s about it for this Rambling. I know I’m usually more formal and organized than this, but... it’s been quite a year for me, so I’m just gonna’ take this slow as I get back into the swing of things.

I hope you folks have a happy holidays, I’ve got some big plans with family these next few weeks and hope your plans go well too.