#IF HEAVEN'S GRIEF BRINGS HELL'S REIGN

[haloburns]

heaven's grief brings hell's reign chapter 2

i posted this a couple of days ago and i'm just now getting around to telling tumblr about it lmao this chapters bumps the rating up to E for sexual content. there's a little plot at the very end of the fic, but not a lot.

this is the resolution of the "this is the road to ruin (and we started at the end)" arc!! it only took me a year and a half!!

i said the words i knew you knew

They stayed wrapped in each other’s embrace for a long moment, Danny’s face pressed against Mateo’s shoulder, Mateo’s cheek pillowed on his hair. The silence that had stretched between them before had chafed, had been suffocating. But now, it was warm and comfortable. It wrapped around them and soothed away the sore spots from the last few months.

Mateo started to drift asleep in the cozy aftermath of their argument, swaying forward into Danny as he did. When he jolted upright for the third time to keep from falling over, Danny huffed a small laugh.

“I think it’s time for a nap,” he murmured into the haze of the afternoon. “Come on, stellumo, come lay down with me for a bit.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, but he didn’t protest when Danny pulled away. He scooted back until he hit the wall, then tugged Mateo next to him. He tucked him against his side, curling an arm around his waist.

Mateo tilted his head back until he could open his eyes and give him a lazy smile. Danny returned it with ease. The sight of it, in its full brightness, made Mateo’s heart thunder. It felt like it’d been years since Danny had smiled at him like that.

“I’ve missed you,” Mateo whispered as Danny brought a hand up to gently caress his cheek. He turned into it and hummed again, this time in pleasure.

“I’ve missed you too, Teo.” He stroked his thumb across his cheek. A weight had been lifted from him, and now, all he wanted to do was crush him close. His gaze was intense as he searched Mateo’s face, and his expression slowly tugged down into a concentrated frown.

“Danny?” Mateo whispered softly, mirroring the frown with one of his own. “What is it, mi amor?”

He didn’t say a word. What was there to say, really? He couldn’t possibly sum up the tangled mess of feelings thrumming in his chest. So instead of trying, he just slid a hand into Mateo’s hair and pulled him in for a rough kiss that belied his soft movements. A sharp exhale left Mateo’s lips at the sudden change in mood, but he leaned up into the kiss nonetheless.

He had missed this between them. They had spent part of winter break together, but Danny had barely touched him, only giving him the smallest of chaste kisses, the lightest of touches. It had been immensely frustrating, but Mateo knew Danny was still healing too. So he hadn’t pushed.

Continue on AO3

Masterpost

[ghostofaformerself]

TAG DROP — VERSES

[onceuponastory]

betrayal - nick fowler x reader

"Girls will go to hell and back For boys who taste like heaven." - teenage sacrifice by creeper

Plot: Nick Fowler is gone, killed on a mission a year ago. And his partner and girlfriend Y/N made her peace with that. ...Until she suddenly finds out on a mission that he's very much alive. Pairing: Nick Fowler x Female!Reader Warnings: Death/murder (Nick faked his though), kidnapping, death threats, betrayal, lies and manipulation, grief (and reader shutting herself away due to her grief), heartbreak and angst, light violence. And especially: Nick Fowler being a complete asshole (but one you still can't help but love, because...look at him). But as always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: I have not written for Nick Fowler in a LONG time, but like I said, a few weeks ago I had a ton of Nick edits show up on my tiktok fyp, and @holacia3 sent me a gif of Nick, so I had a few ideas floating around. But as soon as I heard this song and that line in particular, I knew it would be the perfect fit.

Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.

It was a bad idea. She knew it was. She should have stayed with the rest of her team, and not gone off alone. After all, it’s what got Nick killed. As soon as the memory of Nick enters her mind, her body and heart ache, and she has to fight the urge to cry or scream. 

“No. Not here. Make them pay first.” That’s why she got separated from her team. The criminals they’re tracking are the very same who took her partner from her. And she just had to be the hero and go after them, trying to seek justice for Nick. That was the plan, until she ended up getting lost. And now, she’s in a completely radio silent part of the building with a malfunctioning earpiece. “Ugh.” She hisses, leaning up against the wall and trying to get her bearings. If Nick was here, he’d be laughing at her. Sure, he’d tear down every wall in this place to try and find her… but he’d be sure to laugh too. “I miss you, you asshole.” She whimpers as a few tears break free, rolling down her cheeks.

When Nick died, Y/N shut herself away for months, refusing to speak to anyone. Honestly, she lost a part of herself that day. Not just because she and Nick were dating. Well, he said they were. She was the one who refused to confirm it, not wanting to put labels on things because she knew what a job like this does to people in relationships. And the last thing she wanted was to lose what she had with Nick.

But she loved him so much, and though she never admitted it, she was coming round to the idea of officially being his girlfriend. Actually, she was going to tell him that after their mission… the same one he never came back from. When she finally went back to work, she was relegated to desk work, deemed too vulnerable to be out in the field after what happened.

Despite how much she protested, hating the idea of being wrapped up in cotton wool for the rest of her career, refusing to be forever known as ‘the agent whose boyfriend died in the field’... she was secretly appreciative of the coddling. It was a much better option than being sent out and constantly remembering what was lost. The moments with Nick she’d never get back.

And then, this case came along, bringing her the one thing she wanted right on a silver platter. A chance to stop the very criminals who killed Nick. A chance for revenge, to finally put an end to this reign of terror. To make them feel the same pain she did. And she said - no, she fucking insisted - that she would be okay, and not do anything stupid. Yet here she is, proving them all right. Y/N sniffles, ready to try and find her way back to the rest of her team.

But then, it happens. Something grabs her, and she screams, trying to kick her assailant, desperately fighting for her survival. Yet, the more she fights, the tighter he holds her. She’s dragged into a room, and turns around, immediately preparing herself to continue her fight.

That is, however, until she finds herself staring into a pair of blue eyes she recognises immediately. The same pair of eyes that have been haunting her nightmares for the last year.

And everything just…stops.

“Hey there.” Nick chuckles. 

Nick Fowler, her partner and the love of her life. 

Nick Fowler, who’s supposed to be dead. 

And yet, here he is, standing right in front of her, looking perfectly fine. Her entire body stiffens, freezing her in place. 

“No.” She gasps. “No…N-No, you’re dead.” Nick simply laughs again, grinning like he hasn’t just ripped her entire world apart. As if the months she spent crying over him, mourning his loss, feeling empty and numb meant nothing to him. She lifts her hand, placing it on his neck. The rhythmic thudding of his heartbeat tells her Nick’s very much alive. His skin tingles under her touch, and her breath hitches. Maybe things will be okay?

“Sorry. You know how it is in this life.” Nick simply shrugs. She blinks, waiting for him to continue, to explain that even though it’s part of their job, there are some things he can tell her. That he trusts her enough to tell her something, anything. That there’s a reason he had to fake his death and hide it from her. One that she’ll understand if he just fucking tells her.

Because she’d help him, whatever it is. He knows that. She trusts Nick Fowler with her life, and as far as she knew, he felt the same about her. But his silent stare causes a thought to dawn. And it feels like an icy jolt through her body. Since he clearly had no problem lying to her… did he ever care about her feelings? Or feel the same about her? Even in the wee hours of the morning, when Nick held her and kissed every inch of her body and told her she was his girl, the most important person in his life…. was he just pretending? 

“No.” She thinks. “Nick loves you. He’s the one who called you his girlfriend.” But just as soon as that hope flourishes, another thought comes, destroying it. “So why has he been lying to you for so long?” The icy realisation quickly gives way to a new emotion. A deep, passionate anger. It engulfs her, boiling her blood and making her voice like venom. “I am…was your partner, you fucking asshole!” She snaps, shoving Nick back away from her. “You didn’t think to tell me you were going to fake your death? We promised each other that we would tell each other everything, no matter what!” Nick simply smirks. “You promised!” She repeats, imploring him for an explanation.

But she can see it in his eyes. 

He doesn’t care. 

And despite everything Nick has done to her by this point, all the deception… that is what hurts most of all. She shared so many intimate moments with him, gave him so much of herself, and he just threw it back in her face. Like it’s nothing more than a game to him.

“Don’t be like that.” Nick tuts, tilting his head to get a better look at her. As if he wants to see every part of the pain he’s causing her, like some sick perversion. “I had to do it. Don’t act like you wouldn’t have done the same thing.”

“If it was me, I would’ve told you. I trusted you!” Her voice cracks, and she almost bursts into tears right there and then. But Nick simply scoffs, his disinterest sending another spike through her already broken heart. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” Nick sighs once he notices the tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, okay?” But she can’t even trust him now. She doesn’t even know who he is anymore. If the Nick she fell in love with even existed.

It’s only then, when she looks anywhere but at Nick, that she notices other men in the room, watching them. Men she knows all too well. They’re the enemy, the very people they’re trying to stop, the ones who took Nick away from her. So what is he doing with them? “Nick, if you’re under duress or in trouble, I can help you. Just let me…” Because that would make sense. That would explain why he faked his death and abandoned her. Because he’s in danger too. Her hope builds. "Please god, just let me save him."

“Hey, hey, shhh.” Nick soothes, gently taking her hands. “It’s okay Y/N. There’s no need for that. They’re with me.” He chuckles, cupping her cheek. She tries to flinch away, but he keeps a hold on her. And for just a moment, it’s like how things used to be. Her stomach flutters, and she’s reminded of when Nick kissed her for the last time. Little did she know it was a kiss goodbye. But then, she realises what he’s telling her. And her last smidgen of hope is destroyed.

“You’re… working with them?” She gasps, eyes wide. But that means. Oh god. Her stomach drops, and her chest heaves. Has he been working with the enemy this whole time? Did he ever care about her? Or was she just a stepping stone for his career, a pawn in his plan? 

“Now do you see why I couldn’t tell you?” Nick smirks, still laughing like it’s all a big joke. Like he hasn’t just ripped her apart.

“How could you?” She whimpers. “Y-You used me, and you lied to me. And now you’ve brought me here to kill me.”

Every memory of the moments they shared flashes through her mind. But now, she sees them differently. Nick’s seen her at her most vulnerable, with her feelings and insecurities laid out in the open. He comforted her as she cried, worrying that they’ll never catch these criminals before they hurt someone else. 

And he was working with them the whole time. He was probably laughing as he held her, enjoying the manipulation he was causing.

He never loved her. He just used her love to his advantage. 

“Nobody said anything about dying.” Nick chuckles. “Yet.”

“What do you want with me?”

“Just a proposition. Nothing too bad.” He smiles. 

“Given what you’ve already told me tonight, forgive me for not believing you.” 

“Told you she was stubborn.” Nick smirks to the men in the room. Y/N’s stomach churns. She can’t bear to think about the other things Nick’s been saying about her. She looks around, searching for an escape route. But every exit is blocked. She’s trapped. “Why don’t you join us?” Nick continues. “I told my boss how talented you are, and we both agree that you’d be a perfect fit in our…organisation.” He grins. “You can finally be a free agent, do what you want instead of having people order you around. And….” His voice lowers, and he looks over her body. She hates how her body still betrays her when he does that, how her heart pounds, her breath catches in her throat and she instinctively steps closer to him. Nick grins, knowing he’s got her. “You’ll see a lot more of me. Win-win, really.”

“And what about the innocent people who’ll die?” She asks, her brow raised. Nick simply shrugs.

“Part of the job. You know it is.” He chuckles. “So, what’s it going to be? Come on, Y/N. Come with me.” Nick whispers, smiling at her. The same smile he had whenever they woke up beside one another, their bodies entangled. When she thought he truly loved her.

He was just gathering intel. 

“No.” She speaks. At first, Nick frowns, almost wondering if he misheard her. “I’m not being a part of this.” But then when her words sink in, his gaze hardens.

“Oh. I see.” He sighs. “Must you always be the hero, Y/N? It’s such a weakness.” 

“It’s what I chose to do. To stop people like you.” She hisses.

When she tries to push past him, he grabs her arm, pushing her back against the wall, blocking her path with his body. “Did I say you could leave?” He asks, his voice more forceful. She’s never heard him be so angry, so demanding.

Or maybe he was just a master of hiding it.

“Nick, let me go.” She orders. He ignores her, tightening his grasp.

“What am I going to do with you, Y/N? Hm? I can’t let you go running off to your friends, spilling my secrets, can I?” When no word comes from Y/N, Nick raises a brow. “Cat got your tongue? That’s weird, because you had no issues talking earlier.” Y/N starts to notice the men around them reaching for their weapons, and her heart stops. Suddenly, it all becomes real.

She’s going to die.

She’s going to die at the hands of the person she loves… loved.

“Please don’t hurt me.” She murmurs pathetically. Nick chuckles.

“I’m not going to kill you.” Yet, his grip tightens ever so slightly on her arm. “I might just keep you.” She raises her free fist, attempting to strike him. But Nick is just too quick, grabbing her wrist and twisting it back. She cries out in pain, trying to kick him, but Nick dodges the hit. “Mmm. Touchy, aren’t we?” He smirks. Y/N tries to remain calm, to show him she’s not affected by his betrayal. But her body betrays her once again, and she starts crying.

“Go fuck yourself.” She hisses through her tears. Nick rolls his eyes, tutting. 

“I need to go. Got to explain to my boss that our new asset might take more convincing than we thought.” He turns to the men in the room. “Be careful.” He warns, giving her one last wink. “She’s trouble.”

And then, he's gone.

And Y/N is all alone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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[di-girls-dem-sugar]

If heaven's grief (twitter dying) brings hell's reign (the resurgence of tumblr) then i'd trade all my tomorrows (new tumblr users who've migrated from twitter) for just one yesterday (being able to load my dash)

[chillinrpmemes]

'Paradise Lost' - from John Milton sentence starters

originally from @ladys-roleplay-memes but had since been deleted.

❝ Man’s disobedience brings death❞

❝ Rest can never dwell for hope will never come❞

❝ All is not lost ❞

❝ Courage is never to submit or yield ❞

❝ Strongly suffer and support your pains ❞

❝ Out of evil seek to bring forth good ❞

❝ There is fire that burns, and fire that gives warmth❞

❝ What reinforcement we may gain from hope ❞

❝ What resolution we gain from despair ❞

❝ The mind is its own place ❞

❝ The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.❞

❝ What does it matter if I will stay the same❞

❝ Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heaven ❞

❝ Awake, arise, or be for ever fallen ❞

❝ Devils are adored for deities❞

❝ Your eyes are cruel but cast remorse and passions to behold ❞

❝ No one admires the riches that grow in Hell ❞

❝ Behold a wonder! ❞

❝ From this descent virtues will appear ❞

❝ What fear we then? ❞

❝ Our only cure is to be no more❞

❝ This horror will grow mild, this darkness light ❞

❝ What hope is worth waiting for❞

❝ Being happy but ill is not the worst❞

❝ Our torments also may become our elements❞

❝ Purge off this gloom ❞

❝ Never can true reconcilement grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep  ❞

❝ Lower still I fall ❞

❝ I beg of peace ❞

❝ Knowledge of good is enguled by knowing ill❞

❝ What do my eyes with grief behold?❞

❝ Should I at your harmless innocence melt as I do❞

❝ To what else should I abhor ❞

❝ The happier to Eden shall enjoy their fill while I am thrust to Hell❞

❝ It is because one is already in Hell that one kills themselves❞

❝ Who overcomes by force hath overcome but half his foe❞

❝ Neither man nor angel can discern Hypocrisy❞

❝ New conscience wakes despair ❞

❝ Whichever way I go is Hell; I myself am Hell ❞

❝ So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear, ❞

❝ Only ignorance brings a truly happy state❞

❝ I forget all time when I converse with you❞

❝ You are made of all the shades of night❞

❝ To love or not? This is where we stand or fall❞

❝ Revenge, at first though sweet, recoils bitter long back on itself ❞

❝Solitude sometimes is best society, ❞

❝ Short retirement urges sweet return❞

❝ Hope elevates and joy brightens❞

❝I feel the link of nature draw me ❞

❝ Our state cannot be severed; we are one ❞

❝ To lose you would be to lose myself ❞

[seas-storyarchive]

Hell's Grief, Brings Heaven's Reign - radiorose au

[[MORE]]

Rosie saw him. Alastor went right over the building. She ran to where he was falling, hoping no one would see-

But everyone saw him. Falling. Down, down until- the cracking was defeaning.

That crack.. oh.. oh no, no.. she'd have to spend months waiting on him hand and foot but.. Rosie pushed those thoughts out of her head the moment she saw Alastor. There was no saving him. He'd already died before he hit the grass.

"Al.." She choked, approaching him. She saw his bones had poked through the- no, don't focus on that. Look at his face-

Broken antler, blood- blood- blood! His face, still twisted into that fucking smile from that cunt that owned his soul, had the x from where he got the shot that killed him. His eyes were..

"Oh Alastor.. I.." Rosie choked out, falling to her knees. "I'm so sorry love." She looked at his face, still in a smile. But his eyes, wide, with terror and fear.

Sorrow mixed with rage and wanting blood. And something in Rosie snapped. She lost herself in a blind rage, quickly getting up and rushing at the nearby angels.

Alastor was confused, not understanding were he was. Well, he knew where he now stood, but not how or why he was standing there.

"Hello! What's your name?" The man at the podium before the gates asked, a smile on his face.

"A.. Alastor A-" he caught himself, it wasn't Hell.. so maybe.. "I- I mean Dupuis. Alastor Dupuis, my fine fellow."

Alastor looked at his hands, still red hoof-like fingers on black buck arms. He felt something on his back, and flexed it- wings. He had wings! He was wearing white - a garish color for him - a robe. Why is it always white and a robe? Oh the horror that overcame him, should Rosie see him. Oh.. Rosie.

The man, one Saint Peter himself, looked through the names- and raised his eyebrow when the name was suddenly squeezed in.

"Wow! A new arrival!" Peter was excited. "I wasn't expecting to see you, like ever! That poor woman waited outside the gates for nearly 50 years for you." He looked up to see Alastor looking at his hands. "Well, come on." He opened the gate for Alastor, still smiling.

Alastor, having heard all of this - how his mother waited five decades for him, oh how she must have wanted to ring his ears for being late. Oh, she and Rosie would have gotten along.

But, he and his mother were here, in Heaven. Rosie was down there, in Hell, with everyone else. Fighting.

"I.. I can't." Alastor said suddenly, looking at Peter. "I won't leave them."

Peter sighed, "It's.. it's complicated, buddy. You probably won't even get back down there."

He had a determined look on his face. "I have to go back. I am going back." And, happily, Alastor found out that his shadow worked and dropped him into the clouds. Vanishing down.

"Wait!" Peter tried to stop him, moving out from behind the pedestal but Alastor already vanished. "Shoot, shoot. Ah~ Sera isn't going to like this~" the saint was taking deep breathes, trying to calm down. Oh, this was the last thing they needed to happen.

Back in Hell, Rosie had been slashing through angels, moving towards Adam - whom was now on the ground and beating cannibals left and right.

A feral growl left her as she went to attack him - only get punched by Adam. She growled and went back for it.

"Ooh! We got a feral bitch!" Adam flew out of her range, taunting her.

"I'll kill you and drink wine from your skull as I feast on your entrails!" Rosie hissed, making swipes at him with her clawed hands.

Adam punched Rosie again, this time hard enough to stun her, and grabbed her neck. "Oh you crazy, old timey bitch." He was disgusted as he took to the sky of hell with Rosie. "Say hi to your old timey bitch of a boytoy!"

He spun them and then threw her down towards the ground, laughing maniacally as she screamed. Only to get blindsided when the barrier of Hell's sky was broken, and something shoot down from it. It blasted by Adam, making the man spin in place in response.

"What the fuck?" Adam looked from the woman to the dragons approaching.

So, this is how Rosie died, again. Falling who knew how many feet down to the ground to join Alastor. Oh Al.. if only she told him how much she loved him. If he wasn't dead, she would hold close and kiss him, run her fingers through his hair and wings- wait, hold the fucking phone!

"Got you!" Said the familiar voice, as familiar arms wrap around her in a familiar way, the flapping of wings she was something new.

"A- Alastor?" Rosie asked, looking at the face of her saviour.

"I'm here, Rosie." The face and voice were him, but.. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting, love." He descended to the ground, and set her down on the grass.

"Alastor Altruist! What the fuck were you thinking?!" Rosie grabbed him by the collar of his suit jacket and shaking him.

"Rosie, love, I-"

All of a sudden Lucifer and Adam crashed down from the sky. The former kicking the crap out of the latter.

Charlie was seen rushing over, and then Lucifer stopped. One could hear him ask, to the first man, "how does mercy taste, bitch?"

"Hmm. Poetic." Alastor said, in sarcasm as he watched all of this. Before turning to Rosie. "You were saying-"

His ears and tail stood at attention, before he moaned into the kiss, suddenly gripping Rosie close to him as he surrendered to the kiss. When they broke, everyone was looking at them.

"Pretty snazzy get up you got dhere, Smiles." Angel said, smiling but the man also with tears in his eyes.

"Oh, this, Angel dear? Pfft, tacky bit of laundry." Alastor said, waving his hand.

"Hey, Antlers." Lucifer drew their attention, looking at the six winged king of Hell as he retracted his wings. "You left Heaven."

Alastor ruffled his feathers. "Very astute of you," he said in a sarcastic manner.

"Well, I mean.. it's the whole point of the Hotel-" Lucifer looked from the pair to Charlie, "so they can get to Heaven?"

"Sire, I left Heaven to come back and save my Rosie." Alastor said, defensively as his festhers ruffled even further. "For I could not bear the thought of her dying an altruistic death without her consent."

"You've basically made yourself a fallen angel, jackass!" Lucifer and Vaggie shouted at almost the same time.

"I am aware. But, as I said, my Rosie's life was worth it." Alastor said.

Rosie, having gone quiet, looked at Alastor. "You.. gave that up? Eternal sunshine and Heaven's light.. for little ol' me?"

Alastor turned to Rosie. "I did indeed. There is no heaven without you. Not for me. Call me a fool, but a fool who finally knows what love is and will go against Heaven's wishes to be at your side, until you decide you are sick of me and send me away."

Rosie began to hit him, repeatedly with her hands, both touched and pissed off. "You sap! You fucking bucket ah tree sap! I'd kill you again if I wasn't so touched by your stupid fucking antics!"

Alastor's wings moved to block her blows, looking to the others. "Love, mes amis, is worth it."

"Uh huh.." Husker raised an eyebrow at the two.

"Why are you- Rosie, doll, care to scratch somewhere?" Alastor didn't wait for a reply and instead turned so Rosie had access to his wings. "Where they connect to my back- ooh~ a little harder, yes~!"

He grinned at the feeling for a moment, oh that spot was Heaven and got his tail wagging, before he looked to the others. "Looking, for this?" His shadow produced a book that it handed him. "Here we go.." Alastor looked at the contracts before he began to rip them in half within the book, the ripped pieces breaking and scattering to the wind.

Husker and Niffty's chains appear, before breaking.

"About fuckin' time." Husk sighed in relief.

"You don't want me to help anymore?" Niffty asked, her eyes wide. She soundes hurt.

"Roise, stop for a second." At Alastor's words, Rosie stopped, before the man walked forwards and knelt down in front of Niffty.

"Niffty.." he sighed, "I have a lot to do to be truly honest with everyone. And it all starts with saying I'm sorry for putting those chains on you. For acting how I did. I.. still want to be your friend, will you let me?" He held out a hand, his pointer and middle fingers extended.

Niffty, thinking it over, smiled widely and took his fingers in her hand with a smile. "Sure! I'd hate to think about what you all would do without me anyway!" She then giggled insanly.

Alastor let out an insane laugh as well. "Why, we'd be over run with bugs, my dear." He smiled.

"Uh, Antlers?" Lucifer's voice cut in.

"Yes?" Alastor looked over to Lucifer, only to get punched. "My good sir, what the devil-"

"Exactly, moron! You fucking BROKE the sky and- huh.." Lucifer looked at the sky as it repaired itself. "Never mind." He looked back to Alastor. "Fuck you still."

Alastor and Rosie went back and forth between the hotel site and Cannibal Town, helping with constructing the hotel (Alastor) and running cannibal town (Rosie). Alastor got a good workout with his wings, and Rosie loved being chauffeured about. Alastor was still a cannibal, heaven would have to kill him again repeatedly before he gave that up and thus ruined his and Rosie's at home date nights.

They were happy. Everyone was happy. Especially when the hotel was built.

[starter-library]

THE DEVIL'S CARNIVAL LYRIC STARTERS

FEEL FREE TO CHANGE PRONOUNS/NAMES/PHRASING AS YOU SEE FIT

Heaven’s All Around “All that I can say- All that I can know is that I'll be dreaming pieces of you” “Cast my reverie back into the sea, underneath my pillow where it's meant to be” “All my little troubles haven't got a prayer”

The Devil’s Carnival “Welcome to my gates you gay and lucky souls” “Bring your brothers, Bring your fools and daughters if you got 'em they're a lot of fun” “Run, little blind mice. Scurry down the trail, Chop goes the farmer's knife coming for your tails” “How they end depend on how you play your part” “Unfortunately how you played your part has got you here” “Welcome to eternity now eat your just desserts”

In My Dreams I Drown “The ship, it swayed on the dark and stormy blue” “You haven't slept in many suns and moons” “Oh, I will sleep when we reach shore, and pray we get there soon." “I don't want to go to sleep in all my dreams I drown” “A storm is brewing in the south, it's time you go to sleep." “Scold me, hold me! I'll be yours to keep”

666 “There's a chaos that reigns at the heart of this beast” “Yes our carnival here's a well oiled machine” “It's my duty to advise you of the ordinance in place chiefly designed to keep our operations neat and fine tuned” “As you'll note the rules are clearly stated even illustrated and enumerated on this staunchly dense cautionary little guide” “As Keeper it's my humble pleasure to first castigate and then admonish you” “Breaking rules, it just won't do” “There are consequences, morbid consequences, crueler than ever imagined.” “There are consequences, bloody consequences when you don't follow the rules”

Beautiful Stranger “Reckless creatures always want another find” “Now tarry no longer let's burn one another” “We're one and we're twain now, let's play a game” “Hello, hello, hello, beautiful stranger” “High stakes, three shakes, no breaks. Triple the wager” “By the book, by hook, by rook, Shadow takes all, my pet” “I could say that I'm hurt but it wouldn't be true” “The knife in my back it reminds me of you” “You're my beautiful stranger the game is afoot”

A Penny for a Tale “Let me tell you a tale for a penny, one that you cannot hear anywhere else” “Let me spin you a yarn for a cent” “Lord, would it not be a sin for you to deny yourselves a tale” “That greed, it'll kill ya” “Bleed for a sinner, I just need a few pennies more” “God rest her soul”

Trust Me “You're a tough little tadpole to love” “Never tasted as sweet a poison as you have” “You're an urge that can never be cured” “You're a bad little love and I'm yours” “Trust me, trust me, Darling dear. I’m so sincere” “Trust me, trust me, Honey, do. Just like I trust you” “Babe, you're a hard game to catch, You fight and refuse, Oh, you're a wild little bruise” “You know you never can hide” “You're a bad little love and you're mine”

Prick! Goes The Scorpion's Tale “Black is love's potion, we drink from its well and, in their name, let's drink to true love” “For true love can break the spell” “Let me tell you a tale of a love that had failed” “Oh, love, it is foolish and green, my love. How quickly we forget the sting, my love” “What a pretty and dangerous line, my love. What bitter, yet delicious wine, my love”

Grief “Where is your little son lost, John?” “You're drowning in the grief of Jupiter's water” “Dark are the strangers that sleep on the train” “Swing from my limb and render your tears” “Swing from my limb and render your tears” “Drown in your beautiful grief”

Grace for Sale “Once upon a time heaven was a tower, tethered in its pride, Cast us grapes as sour” “Spread my filth, my wings, my weeds” “All these fickle beasts heaven hath rejected” “Cast down for your sin, come here for redemption” “Cross your heart and hope to die it's off to Hell we go”

[spookygraveyard]

Crowley and Aziraphale are so Fall Out Boy coded :')

"And I'm yours, 'til the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll away,

I'm struggling to exist with you and without you"

"If there were anymore left of me I'd give it to you"

"Sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger, the person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger"

"You asked 'how I'm doing' like you know just how much better off I am"

"If heaven's grief brings hell's reign, then I'll trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday"

"And your love is anemic, and I can't believe that you couldn't see it coming from me"

"I felt you at the beginning but needed you in the end"

"My nine to five is cutting open old scars again and again until I'm stuck in your head"

"This is the road to ruin, and we're starting at the end"

"Confess my love, I'd know where to be,

my sanctuary, you're holy to me"

[cada5h]

SYLVARA THE MOURNED | DROW | CLERIC OF EILISTRAEE | ACOLYTE

Backstory Under Cut

Sylvara was born Rhaenis Terrelle, the only daughter of High Priestess Alienor. As a child, Sylvara was groomed to into becoming the next High Priestess of Lolth. Bred into a life of depravity, brutality, and sacrificial worship, Sylvara did not know another way of life. She believed herself to be the sword of Lolth's justice, to dole out her punishments and bring dissenting drow into line, by any means necessary.

Until, one day, Sylvara was gravely injured in an ambush. She lost consciousness, and when her enemies were given the chance to slay her, instead they chose to save her life. Sylvara was brought to their hideout where they tended to her wounds. She was instantly suspicious - she did not trust these heretics. She knew they wanted the secrets of her goddess, of her temple. So she bid her time, earning their trust, bit by bit. When she was finally released from her bonds, she took the first sharp thing she could get her hands on and pinned the heretic girl who had unlocked her chains against the wall. But this heretic... she bared her neck with valiant courage. "Do it, then," she'd whispered, those glassy lilac eyes boring into Sylvara's blood-red gaze. "If after everything we have done, after what we risked, to save you, to shelter you... If after all that, you still want us dead then it is too late. Lolth dug her claws too deeply for any of us to help. Kill me and prove yourself her leashed beast."

And Sylvara... hesitated. For the first time in her short life, she hesitated. The girl took that split-second of indecision to disarm her. But the fight had drained from Sylvara. She held out her wrists willingly this time, bore her chains with grace. Is this what the rest of the world was like? What was this twisting, piercing feeling in her gut? What was this heaviness weighing her down?

Shame. Niera had taught her that. That and more. More than Sylvara had ever dreamed of. Niera taught her love and guilt and grief and hope. Niera had opened her eyes to what life could be, what the world could be. But this bliss - this new-found freedom - did not last. Could not last. Lolth would not let it last.

The temple had found her. Lolth had found her.

Her brothers and sisters raided the hide-out of the drow rebels. They had slain her beloved Niera. They had cut down every last one of the rebels there, and Sylvara could not help the dread that threatened to drag her to the very pits of hell itself.

Once she returned home, Lolth demanded an audience. Sylvara was honest, to her own detriment. She wanted freedom - she wanted to explore the world, all of its corners, she wanted to love and be loved. She wanted it all, everything the temple, her mother, had hidden from her.

Lolth was not pleased. She cursed Sylvara, took her right eye as punishment, carved her own runes of power into Sylvara's face. "You sweet pretty young thing," she purred as she held her head in her hand, a shiny white knife in the other. "You think you can betray me, to break the vows you swore. I will make sure that when others look upon this pretty face of yours, they will know what you have done, the sins you have committed, and when you die, I will feast on your soul and pick my teeth with your bones."

Lolth meant to kill her - and she had almost succeeded. But somehow, for some strange divine reason Sylvara could not understand, Eilistraee intervened. Eilistraee saved her.

And in that moment, Sylvara made a vow to serve her until her last breath and to bring an end to Lolth's reign. She would tear down the weave, the heavens and hells, and destroy her, even if it was the last thing she ever did.

Sylvara left and remade herself as Sylvara the Mourned. She swore herself to Eilistraee's service, and became the nightmare Lolth had bred her to be.

[freylaverse]

If heaven’s grief brings hell’s reign,

then I’d trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday.

This is Virgil and they’re one of @hedonicghosts‘ alters!

[walnutweblinks]

Walnut Weblinks // August 5, 2024

Theology Without a Heart: Four Signs of Dead Orthodoxy

Look for the Glimmers

An Odd Detail That Points to Christ’s Cosmic Reign

The Death of My Son Awakened Me to the Reality of Heaven

Live a Larger Life: An Invitation to World Christianity

3 Reasons Heaven Doesn’t Affect Us as Much as It Should

Podcast: How Can I Begin to Teach the Bible? (David Helm)

The Quiet Grief of Caregiving: Four Balms for the Overburdened

Rescued and Redeemed: A Book Review of “Ruined Sinners to Reclaim”

The Mandate of Biblical Inerrancy: Expository Preaching

Bavinck’s Multifaceted View of Spiritual Sickness

From Genesis to Judgment: Original Sin Fully Explained

Bamboo Resilience: Christianity’s Explosive Growth in China

No Repentance in Hell

What a New Day and New Month Will Bring

Get Strong: Embrace Weakness

In Asian American Churches, Generational Differences Deter Young Leaders

The Relationship of Theology, Worship, and Missions

[haloburns]

Do you make any playlists for your characters or WIPs?

hahahhahah

hahah

.......

these are all technically subsets of the main danny phantom playlist that exists for my main au. there's a total of 479 songs, rounding out to 29h14m of music.

but sometimes i need A Mood so i break them off into the separate fic titles so i can find them easier/loop the vibes. like rn i'm listening to... kneel to the crown?? bc i've been vibing with the angst that goes in that arc

i dont make them for characters tho. i don't have a lot of experience with that, i do better matching music to a plot/character arc instead. however, i LOVE some of the DP playlists i've found for characters. they SLAP and were a major help during phic phight when i couldnt get a characters vibe right

here are the links if anyone wants to check them out!

danny phantom

halloweekend 2009

this is the road to ruin

heaven's grief brings hell's reign

fishin' in the dark (i will hear no slander about this playlist. country music SLAPS and these ones in particular capture the exact vibe i'm looking for for the summer night fic i'm working on)

hey there, shadow (this one is just songs that are on like three playlists but i needed them on repeat)

kneel to the crown (bonus points if u can figure out the plot based on this playlist's vibes)

[libidomechanica]

“Then understand: I love lessend from myself anew beyond the”

A limerick sequence

                Then understand: I love lessen’d from myself anew beyond the linnet    poured him who sang with his    sides I could be told. Behold. Fashion whispering the flower?

                But what matter how do I now mean these extreme verge of rhyme to look not    outrun me. The earth and    catch at each cold and art, if merciless. The secret Russian.

                Even the Lord of Raucocanti? These songs I sink my love. Thy marble    fonts; they call alone as    thistles all heaven, that wilderness. His wanting daffodils.

                Which makes a rising sun. Don Juan, he know the moon and fro. Bough the glade of    Gold, danger, and carol    rang. He is gay, like pressed with thee, dearest, best, ’ she taken wing.

                Her fathers rose on such as metal waiting with my tirade. Now-a-days    is coltish natures, would    call the sun. But, for here, and every clime this broad-brimm’d of sin.

                Look ye not reach’d at ease my faith? That Frowning rain; yea, tho’ I walk with the    could man I love that Frowning    but in those the less; our dear or cherish in the Shepherd?

                Dan Phoebus take time, time through led, and lower in that which the mask of the    golden to the day when    the skull which thee. In the sustained, thought. That did not meet her side.

                And here all who look it cannot I have it out; and used, and towers and    a wood care is Additional.    This cruel fellowship, and strike, rather most shall ripeness.

                ’Reign graceful necks, which ‘flow’d with his sheets. By all these, a lady’s gently, by    me and to each others    thus: On Thursday the imperturbable, thou shalt do; first day!

                Be all its grief abuse the presents less bitter ill, to him sprung from her    he bean, and balmy drop    the giant labour, and the hands. To refer to, without ground.

                A nymph doth keepe, iealouzie hemselves? Thou art worth gives o’er; or sober, here’s    then he long low    islander with no language lies beside my love. Sing. Man withdrew.

                Sung by fits, like a signal-flag; and no less body and a Greek i’d    have your mother, will be    company’s a king, and I will not seemd but yours. And the law.

                The wild the people prefer wine—’t is my mother nymph and shott as fyre,    that I leant? Thine, her    hand that I had set a ringlet turn’d as whott at his common!

                Can see no baseness had every eye well-tuned so longer—in the sun,    the present, Lords A. And    a Grecian hour for pass’d life. From scarped his rack’d with banquet.

                Wholly round only minstrel be, progress turn thee from Time’s injurious,    that waited for the back.    In that binds him the Throne of the tomb, but I’ll have idle case?

                To those talons held again is as at a time hath no great moral odor,    otherwise. ’Tis that    distant parson, or are the same? If calm despair? Shall be true.

                And found my regret to the high Muse is there I find no more content, he    always envy, though to    soar too soone it: the chrism of loss. Half-grown as yet look thy tears.

                Comes from the most breath, ill bring its skin. My feet flower of anger race, should    like a stoic anchor    in emerald rain. And stillness of their dead shall o’er-gang ye.

                Which were to blow. Not by this, we turn’d for me! Her statue veil’d, and I was,    straight a crimson or    wherefore than the side by side, if so heavenward always act?

                A tattle world, and my pain, I thinks? Hold thoughts with Death, of himself betwixt    her clouds. And skin. On thee,.    In pedigrees, by name, tis but such reverend walls of champagne?

                Reaping with a fix’d upon the neighbouring breeze of Fair Women a Farewell,    tho’ they bore his    credible. Let rang without really the world to discpline. For me.

                Midst the very difficult to greet us. Julia closed with all curious    lies, the fainter, till    Doubt and ready to lady, one pure blown about from the plain!

                The effigies the Queen shalt do; first for common-place the kind. The Dragon    from me? And all the mind    that the monastic case, still not like a kindred brow, feeds Hell.

                —At least, to glide, like coarse conclusion. Stiffened by the soil, left my after    for the prima donna    and trust in the two princes and live a crescent moon the green.

                Except it becomes the violet comes to confined, ’ some name of Him that sleeping.    Her narrowing I    no further I’d quotation of those to bear suits my rhymes.

                About empyreal heights divers to thee: no, not a woman-love hid and    rashly, her lavish mission    more polished mind. To mingle scudo of sandal, amber.

                And all, and ashes, but branchingly with care; so seem’d charm. Like strange, for changing,    she place in: from his    shield, which leaves among the threshold of the facts. Wild Hours shooting.

                And then dismiss’d the forest, thy defect, for azure views; nor could not made    at least little low, or    towers shook her hands. Lift as pure in well as I. Watch, my tears?

                When one at a long from the grave, being obsolete. Ring out the flower;    but stays higher strove, as    if instead their bowe, which ends in endless when trust that to view?

                Aspects may cease, the fades from afar, before; my love, time. My Arthur fountains    at ease, with this there    sat in outliving brightens to show than they control, o hear.

                Also to beat the budding hello. Dark how thought to act in Sicily    all silence of mind. And    sighing admiration a Dream of the held up the wouldst owe.

                Or under-music, rolling too much. I felt it, giving up; no more his    darkness utter’d with my    skin&hold apart; — ‘Tis there and thick by ashen greyness.

                Like one charm. If to lift him out. Heroic if you were many a token    win. Without a slothful    heart. The occasion, or durst in the torrent on, and mine.

                Also suit the bugle’s winning as a wing, and join’d each correct, with grace,    still on higher; as gentle,    genial tablet, the word, when we’re tired metaphor, still!

                He came far condemned, whom I grieved in July, a nymph doth keepe, iealouzie hemselfe    doth what I could not    yet. Await those great appeal to their tedious book. And years.

                A dead would have felt so farre from the flood. Long walks in her changes of after-    moulded lime; what    possession upon the occasion at Love would make the power?

                The coming again? Of any vision, or generate brain; for not, for    want to be. Of another,    so let their sire: On Thursday the sun by sun the wine.

                Whose cold, and Stand full growing cause the ungarners in light-blue eyes I sleep    can not at a loss did    every gossamers the comes, but not in vain; a favour’d in.

                Putting each more where I was, and hit me too commence: such pain, and the more    fit for the foster-bowman,    her life breather’s arm, their heaven a tale of Quixote?

                Say, then—i never bound him, can for sometimes home. To lose itself to shoot,    and Master new, a step    she mix with strange. Robert Burns: know it; my tongue was Nelly Gray!

                My sisters rage of moving star, o’erlook’st thou art a Mower theirs is modern    rhyme may lives to show,    no touch’d her beautiful face. What she dang me, an’ kissing song.

                —Hospitality o’er the little huddled on her stations are set less    the ground that we are gone:    I care for comes. Angel Singing hue, and like to go: my fear.

                Cannot falls our days more splendour fairest tinters fought me, my shadowy    curve in it, In a simply    murder. The fancy’s tenderness of sloth; nor human thus?

                Like liquor or as the stirring could not knowing race of their lives. To danced    from the Sum of ripen,    her life paid for ever a potato,—while my blood of young.

                And I seal. And leaders of Parliament, and partakes thrones of Don    Juan,—who, an awkward country    maid, and loud with from more than a hurry, and something lost.

                From the earth Hell! How happy eyelids from all in low estate to show’d him    sprung from the clock, by its    smoke, danger half so deleterious; hearing down the brain.

                By the in much from marge to under the blue are too riper grow: we are    our mother and love, through    they knowledge, but such distant him. Is nought them take thou art fair.

[isaac--lahey]

If heaven’s grief brings hell’s reign...: OPEN

Kol couldn’t remember the last time he had a scar, but he found his new body riddled with them. Another oddity as he was quite sure his host was a werewolf and thus should have healed from such infliction of pain. They were all of no consequence to him - despite the grievous dark line traced across his neck from the previous host’s last hours on earth. That wouldn’t do for appearances and with a bit of concentrated magic, the Original had all but erased it from sight and memory.

Of course his comeback couldn’t be too easy or else where was the fun in that? The universe certainly had a sense of humor. His newfound host of a body had once been a witch - Kol could sense where the magical channels had once run through him - but the werewolf gene, once triggered, had stopped the flow. In all his year on this earth, he never expected he would find himself in the body of a mutt. He had longed for magic and yet the universe granted him the other third of the supernatural trifecta. Lovely.

And to make it even more interesting, people actually mourned the passing of this boy and thus made his plans of being incognito till the time was right all the harder to pull off. His face was on the front of the damn newspaper for weeks.

But he had waited long enough. He had been stuck in the dark for so long, he wouldn’t not wait another month to start his comeback. New Orleans had enough time to prepare itself and where his siblings had fucked up, the fourth Mikaleson would not be making the same mistake.

Kol Mikaelson was back.

[archiveghostofaformerself]

JACE HERONDALE / @hoshizoranoseirei​ ; active case file

     RARELY DOES SHE SLEEP MUCH, but when she’s at the institute? practically never. more often than not she’s up and wandering, keeping a watchful eye on everything because she needs to do something. this time, though, she follows the familiar sound of the piano and it leads her to find a familiar face sitting on the bench. it’s not a sight she expects to see, but somehow it’s almost fitting.

     ❝this place,❞ she pairs it with a shrug. ❝composing?❞ a step forward, maybe a testing of the waters to see how he reacts. she wants to see exactly which version of them they’re sowing right now–there’s so many.

[amansinidolum]

some consort verse headcanons

the mark of a consort in hell is the lesser party (because it is never between equals) is branded around the throat with an intricate, almost lace like pattern. the higher up the being they’ve bound to, the more intricate it is. as belial is consort to the queen of hell, his is very ornate

the consort is incapable of doing knowing harm to the being their bound to or their interests.

in marking a consort, there is a higher risk brought to both parties. a consort is often seen as a potential weakness and therefore can be a liability to their bonded