#and meanwhile he’s walking around with gold literally chained around him

[tsisisail]

Anyway thinking about how Eugene has literal gilded chains resting on his shoulders… I dunno. Someone do the symbolism for me.

[midnightseonghwa]

𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 | 𝐣.𝐲𝐡

𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐮 - 𝟑

✕𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Dragon Shifter!Yunho x Human!Reader 

✕𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Dragon shifter, Halloween, Soulmate Au, Angst, fluff 

✕𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.9k+

✕𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭: The only thing you had wanted from that day was closure but sometimes, fate’s strings can untangle and pull you towards something much more treasureable. Alternatively: “To treasure your soul more than the gold and diamonds he collects.”  

✕𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: There is violence, blood and death. Things are a bit fast paced. The setting of the story is very ambiguous. Like very...somethimes it’s the modern world but sometimes it’s not (bear with me here). The reader (you) are a bit of an outcast and have a bad past. Mentions of soulmates and hunters. But overall, Yunho is such a cutie...I just couldn’t not write soft fluff...hehe 

✕𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: Unedited

✕𝐀/𝐍: Remember that this is fiction. Enjoy! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist. Leave a comment under this post or message me! This is pretty cliched but who doesn’t like a cliche plot every now and then. I will revisit this though...I feel like there are a lot of plot holes but that is a story for another day...Thank you to the anon who decided to give me that extra encouragement and support, this being posted much earlier than what I had in mind...I have some special love for that anon <3

✕𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @pancakes-for-teddy​ 

✕𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜: Here 

You felt a disgraceful feeling creep up the back of your throat as you walked into the small shop that looked horribly suspicious. Your friend had informed you that they dealt with all things. Anything sparkly and they would take it off your hands at a reasonable price.

At first, you had been a little off-put by her description of their service but you were desperately trying to get rid of an item and even the slightest bit of off-put feelings were not going to stray you.

The little bell above the door tinkled as you pushed it open, the dust on the door flying about, causing you to cough and wheeze a little.

"Good afternoon! Welcome to Wonderland, how may I help you today?" A cheery voice greeted you from behind the counter and you came face to face with a boy, maybe the same age as you or a year older. His hair resembled the colour of charred orange and you could even smell a faint fruity but toasty smell coming from him.

"Hi, I heard you guys could...take something off my hands?" You said shyly and clutched your bag tighter around your shoulder.

The boy smiled and came out from behind the counter.

"My elder brothers are actually not here at the moment..." he trailed off and sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

"And?" You asked, the small hope in your body blackening to ash as you realised that what they did for your friend might've been a one-time thing.

"Well...ugh. Okay, just come around here and I can try to help you out," he said and led you to the backroom.

He wasn't planning on killing you or anything...right?

You followed the auburn-haired boy meekly as he led you down a narrow corridor and then opened up one of the rooms.

"Come in," he said and watched with a smile as you gaped and gawked shamelessly at the amount of precious and semi-precious stones that were sparkling on the wall.

"You'll be surprised how desperate people can be for money...or even closure sometimes," he said and turned to look at you with a cheeky smile.

You touched the various pieces of jewellery swearing at the light that reflected off of every cut and chisel in the stone. You could've sworn that you had seen some of these pieces hanging off the necks of the royals you had seen in your high school history textbook.

"How old are these?" You asked and the boy laughed with his teeth on display.

"Pretty old, ancient if I can say but my brothers take care of them really well. They're a sort of treasure, you know?"

You snorted at his last remark and peeked at the article you had come to handoff. Compared to all the extravaganza lining the walls, yours looked like a rock you had picked up from the beach.

"I can only imagine what sort of treasure..." you trailed off and let your eyes roam the room one last time.

"Now, show me. I've been dying to see what you're so eager to get rid off."

The boy was practically bouncing off the walls. His smile was reaching the tips of his eyes and you felt a small pang in your heart at the betrayal he was going to feel once you showed him.

"Well...it's nothing much..." you said and wrung your fingers together. You fished through your bag and produced a small velvet blue pouch that was tied by drawstrings.

The boy pushed a tray towards you and watched in odd fascination as you tipped the pouch onto the tray to produce a monstrous diamond ring. It was almost the size of one of your eyes and the way the boy looked at it, you could tell that even he was quite astonished at the size of it.

Raising an eyebrow, he held the diamond closer to his face, giving it a quick sniff and then holding it to his eye.

"I have no idea where you got this from but I'm sure Yunho hyung will be glad I decided to help you," the boy mumbled under his breath and you exhaled sharply at his comment.

That meant he was willing to take it off you right?

Placing the ring back on the tray, the boy gave you a smile, "I think you-" he started but was quickly interrupted when another voice sounded in the room.

"Jongho, how many time have I told you- oh," the voice said and you turned to face probably one of the tallest humans you had ever seen in your life.

With stark white-ish silver hair and pale skin, he was at least two heads taller than you. His eyes were the colour of soil on a warm spring day and you find yourself staring a little when the boy, apparently named Jongho coughed to gain your attention.

"Yunho hyung! I was just thinking about you! This person here has something I think you're going to like," Jongho said and ushered Yunho into the room.

The male, Yunho's eyes never left yours and you found yours following his figure as well. You felt the strings of fate finally untangle and pull you towards the male who was standing in front of you.

"Yes, uhm..." Yunho muttered and looked at you with a puppy-like smile.

"What can I help you with," he said and you suddenly found it very difficult to get any words out.

"They want you to get rid of that ring," Jongho said and handed the ring to Yunho who looked pleased with the big size of it.

"May I ask where you got this from?" He said and you sighed a little before biting your lip.

"It's my engagement ring," you said and shook your head when you noticed the smile drop from the two boys' face.

"No no, it's alright. It was an arranged marriage anyway and thankfully he was able to kick the bucket before he could walk down the aisle," you laughed sorrowfully and heard Jongho snigger before Yunho slapped his arm.

"Well, for what it's worth, we'll gladly take this off your hands. I hope you can get the closure you deserve," Yunho said and put the ring back into the pouch before turning to one of the displays on the wall.

"Thank you," you said and exhaled as a weight lifted itself off your chest. You were finally able to leave that part of your life behind.

"Before you go," Yunho said and placed in front of you a small translucent white and silver satin pouch with drawstrings.

"I think this will be a nice little replacement for the piece you are giving up," he said and you picked up the pouch to inspect the content on the inside.

Although the fabric was slightly blocking your view, you concluded that whatever parts you could see where a guarantee that the piece would be a lovely one.

While you inspected the piece, Jongho looked at Yunho with wide-eyes and a smile as the older boy nodded back in silent confirmation.

"I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you," you said and smiled, warming Yunho's heart.

"Just come back and visit us sometime," Yunho said and you nodded, agreeing to the male's request.

"Before you leave, can I at least get your name?" He said and blushed a little before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"It's (Y/n)."

"(Y/n)," Yunho sighed dreamily and flopped onto one of the chairs at the back of the shop.

"Who's (Y/n)," one of his brothers, Mingi asked as he entered the room with the rest.

"His soulmate," Jongho piped up from the other end as the boys erupted into awe-struck comments and questions.

"Is this...(Y/n), a dragon as well?" Mingi's question, although in sheer excitement, sank Yunho's heart.

His soulmate was not a dragon...you were a human...

"No...(Y/n)'s a human," Yunho mumbled and Mingi quieted down with a shocked face.

"Hey, hey it's alright, hyung. They accepted your courting gift, that has to mean something right?"

Yunho smiled at his youngest brother. Jongho was right, you had accepted his courting gift and that had to mean something right?

"Yeah, I'm sure it means something," he said but this time, his big and dreamy smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Meanwhile, you couldn't help but let curiosity get the better of you when you reached back home. Quite literally pushing your shoes off, you scattered up to the kitchen island and turned on one of the spotlights.

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out the satin pouch and laid it against the granite countertop. You undid the drawstrings and tipped it onto the counter when a gold chain attached to some sort of stone slinked out of it.

You held it up to the yellow light and watched as the teardrop-shaped stone sparkled under it. It was an opaque white with small gold flecks. Its colour resembled Yunho's hair and you find yourself giggling lightly at the thought.

The stone was smooth under your touch and had a gold hook that was connecting it to the chain.

Undoing the clasps and stringing the necklace around your neck, you smiled as the stone sat perfectly right beneath where your collarbones met and for some reason, you felt as if the necklace was made for you.

"(Y/n), you will not believe-" your friend poured into the living room, her hair wild as she stopped in front of you who was still sitting at the kitchen counter.

"Where did you get that from?" She asked and pointed to the necklace on your neck. Your hand instinctively flew up and guarded it against your friend's prying eyes.

"Someone gave it to me," you said dismissively but she raised her eyebrows, giving you a suspicious look.

"Is that person a special someone?" She asked and you sighed, toying with the white stone, the light reflecting off the stone causing reflections on the wall.

"I wish," you sighed and thought back to Yunho's handsome face. Everything about him seemed too good to be real. What kind of man with that face and height walked around single?

But he did seem interested in you...

You dismissed that thought what a shake of your head. Of course, he seemed interested in you. You practically gave off your ring worth millions for nothing but closure and a white stone necklace.

"Okay, regardless. (Y/n), apparently, there have been dragon spottings around here," your friend said and nudged herself closer to you. She had a serious look on her face but you couldn't help but let out a small mocking laugh slip out.

"Didn't dragons all get hunted down?" You asked with a slight tilt in your head and your friend just shook her head.

"Apparently there are still some left. The town's hunters are going to look for them now."

You gulped at your friend's statement. Dragons were beautiful creatures, royals of the skies and here your kind was, sick puny humans, biting off more than they could chew.

"Why can't the town's people leave them alone?" You reasoned and your friend sighed before leaning her head against the counter.

"Human are always scared of the things they can't control," she said and you found yourself nodding at her statement.

A wave of silence took over before your friend got up and walked to the fridge.

"What do you want for dinner?" She asked and you shook your head, politely declining her question.

"I'm good, thanks. Just probably going to go and get some fresh air."

Your friend looked at you sceptically, pulling some vegetables from the fridge and then nodding.

"Alright, but be careful, don't go to the outskirts of town."

Gathering your things, you thanked your friend and walked down the road, the town eerily quiet with most of the people hiding.

Your footsteps echoed in the air around you as they trudged through the dirt, your shoes kicking small pebbles and stones as you walked on, ignoring your friend's warning and going towards the outskirts, the forest.

"Hey!" A voice caught your attention as you turned around and saw a man run up to you.

"What're you doing here? Don't you know about the dragons?" He sneered and stumbled back a bit as he came closer and closer to you.

"I-" you started but were interrupted when he let out another disgusted sneer.

"Or are you one of them? One of those pesky human shifters? Maybe I should skin you and take your scales home for my family," he said and you bit back the whimpers that were threatening to fall out of your mouth.

The man grabbed your arm as he pushed you into a secluded corner of the street, weapon raised he was just about to strike when a loud roar sounded in the air, causing the man to lose his focus and falter a bit.

You took this opportunity and ran. Ran as if your life depended on it; which it did. You could hear his heavy footsteps behind you as you quickly tried to lose him by rounding a corner but that only slowed you down and before you knew, he had caught you by the hair, making you fall onto your back, hitting the asphalt with a sickening skid.

"Show yourself to me you disgusting creature," he said and raised his hand when a voice sounded behind him.

"Don't you dare touch (Y/n)."

You recognised the voice as Jongho's, the same burnt orange hair peeking over at you with concern as your attacker turned around with a furious glare.

"Who are you?" He demanded as Jongho helped you up and ushered you to the side.

"None of your business," Jongho responded and you watched in shock as the boy's eyes flared a rich golden colour.

Your attacker's eyes widened when he saw Jongho's eyes change colour, the blood draining from his face as he sank to his knees, begging for his life.

Not giving the man a glance, Jongho pulled you along and started running towards the forests on the outskirts of town.

"Jongho..." you panted as the male pulled you along, "Where are we going? And...and your eyes...are you a dragon?"

Jongho let out a frustrated groan before turning around to face you.

"(Y/n), there's no time to explain, okay? Right now, I need your help."

"Jongho, what do you mean? Why do you need my help? Jongho, I-" you stuttered and stumbled in your steps before Jongho held you by the shoulders.

"(Y/n)! Listen to me! Yunho hyung, he's hurt. Please, you have to help him. You're the only one who can help him."

Your world stopped spinning as you registered Jongho's words. At the thought of Yunho hurt, a deadly amount of pain unfurled in your body as you hunched over, trying to soothe the pain.

"Jongho, what's happening? Wh...why does it pain so much?" You cried, tears spilling from the side of your eyes.

Jongho cursed under his breath and picked you up, running faster towards the forest.

The pain sizzled through your body like an unbearable heat. It was almost as if your heart was getting ripped out of your chest, each nerve and muscle being ripped out and torn to shreds.

"Jongho, it hurts," you cried and pressed your hands over your chest to ease the pain.

"Yes, I know but just hang on, okay? The mate bond is severing due to Yunho hyung's condition right now and I need to get you to him as fast as possible so just hang on."

"Jongho, you took long enough," Mingi muttered and looked at the very pained human in his arms before groaning.

"Where did you go?"

Jongho nodded, out of breath and placed you next to Yunho's massive dragon form where the grass had now taken on a bright firework red. You were barely conscious but enough to raise yourself to your hands and knees, forcing some air to go into your lungs. You turned to view the dragon behind you, the pain shallowing out in waves like the tides of the ocean you despised.

"Is this..." you trailed off and Jongho gave you small nod. A cry of sorrow broke out from your lips as you felt the last few remaining threads of the mate bond severe.

You hadn't even gotten to know the boy, claimed to be your mate. With hair like snow and eyes like the moon that would keep all your secrets. You weren't sure why you were crying but in a world where you had been pawned off from at a young age, you were crying for the love you had never gotten to know, to experience, to have and hold until death do you apart.

You collapsed onto Yunho's form, his scales bristling slightly under you at the touch of their mate, the one who's touch they had been made for and craving ever since they had been brushed into existence.

"Jongho," you cried again and held Yunho's form as much as could.

"Please, I haven't even gotten a chance to know him yet. Just...please...please help him," you begged until your throat was raw and scratchy.

"Just wait (Y/n), help is on the way," Jongho whispered, but his words fell on deaf ears as fate broke the last bond that attached your soul to Yunho's and your eyes fell shut.

At least you would be with Yunho now.

"My sweet treasure," you heard a voice call out accompanied with soft touches that swept your hair out of your face. The warmth radiating into your skin made you nuzzle your cheek into the voice's hand.

"Fate must look kindly upon me for giving me such a beautiful soulmate," the voice whispered again and your eyes fluttered open. Squinting slightly to adjust to the yellow sunlight, you caught a glimpse of silky white strands and a puppy-like smile that was looking down at you.

It almost felt as if you were in a dream...his face and voice resembled Yunho's so much and you sniggered at fate's cruel tricks before turning on your side and closing your eyes again.

For a dead person, fate sure made your afterlife comfortable...

"(Y/n), my treasure," the Yunho look-alike whispered again and slowly coaxed you awake. Kissing lightly on your forehead, then your fingers one by one and then finally leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on your cheek.

This time, your eyes opened for the second time and you slowly sat up. Smiling, you touched Yunho's cheek but instead of him disappearing, you were met with warmth and a smile.

"Are we...not dead?" You asked ridiculously and Yunho laughed, certain mirth filling his eyes as he looked at you endearingly.

"We are...not," he said and you shot up from where you were sitting, launching yourself at Yunho.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close, your soul feeling whole as if Yunho's arms was where you were always meant to be.

"Yunho, I-" you stuttered but no amount of words could ever convey the relief you felt.

"Shh, it's alright, my treasure. You're here with me now and that's all that matters." Yunho said and stroked your hair as soft tears of happiness covered your cheeks.

Picking you up off the bed, Yunho nuzzled his head into your neck, inhaling the soft smell of nutmeg with fresh dew drops.  He pulled you closer into his chest, rubbing his cheek against yours as he pulled out of the room and into the narrow corridor.

The boys cheered as you and Yunho made an entry into the small living room that you had first seen when Jongho had led you down the narrow hallway a few days ago.

"You're awake!" Jongho beamed and moved forward to give you a hug before Yunho let out a growl and pulled you into his chest.

"Not your mate, Jongho," he said and gave the younger a warning glare.

Jongho sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and cowered away causing you to laugh and smack Yunho on the arm lovingly.

"Yunho! That's mean," you said and pressed yourself further into his chest, the silver-haired boy protectively putting his arm around you.

"Nothing is mean if it involves my treasure," he said and kissed the top of your head, all his brother making gagging noises at the display of affection.

To Yunho, the everglades had never felt more alive. Spring had finally arrived and the lush green grass felt like cotton under his feet.

The Cherry blossom trees had reached full bloom and Yunho smiled as he watched you twirl and dance around the falling petals. His heart had never felt so full but it always seemed to make more space for you.

"Yuyu! Come and see this!" He heard your voice and walked to you before playfully lifting you off your feet and spinning you around, causing you to let out happy squeals.

The white teardrop-shaped stone glinted in the sunlight as the gold flecks seemed to move across the stone. Yunho smiled as he watched the necklace sway from side to side as you ran through the grass and yelled for him to chase you.

Leaning down, he pressed his forehead to yours and whispered a soft 'i love you' before capturing your lips with his. It was a short loving kiss but each little nuzzle, peck or Eskimo kiss always left you wanting for more.

You wrapped your arms around Yunho's midsection and cuddled into his chest, the dragon in him rolling over with happiness like a puppy as he covered his body with yours and held you suffocatingly close. Resting his head on top of yours, his dragon swelled with pride at the newly created and stronger mate bond. You had finally let Yunho's dragon mark you after a few months of lovely coaxing and Yunho couldn't be prouder that a person like you was willing to bear his mark.

It made you his treasure, his to protect and his to guard.

A treasure more valuable than all the diamonds and gold he kept collected.

"I love you, my sweet treasure. More than all the gold and diamonds I could ever collect.”

[wonhaebunny]

📂

next one!

i hc that katsuki is the only one who knows erasermic are together. the reason why is irrelevant. maybe he witnessed a personal signed conversation and realised later on what the implications were. maybe he's just weirdly observant.

point is, literally no one in the class knows except katsuki.

when ochako spots a gold ring on a chain around aizawa's neck one day, it sends all of them (excluding katsuki) into an uproar. they spend the next three weeks trying to guess who it is, placing bets between ms joke and midnight, and even random civilians like a grocery store owner who's friends with aizawa.

katsuki watches the entire thing silently, finding it hilarious.

his friends ask him if he wants to place a bet. katsuki isn't a cheater, obviously, so he refuses. he does, however, place bets with a large portion of the teaching faculty at UA. these bets are placed on when the class will find out, and katsuki is allowed to participate on the condition that he doesn't indicate the answer to his classmates in any way. aizawa is aware of these bets but does not participate, while hizashi doesn't even know of their existence. in fact, the guy doesn't know about 1a's dilemma at all.

katsuki places a bet for the class finding out within the week, and bets about 15,000 yen on it amongst all his teachers. they think he's being optimistic, and laugh at him for overestimating his classmates.

but katsuki is far from stupid, and optimism doesn't exist in his vocabulary. he's planned this out to a T.

come the fifth day following the bets' placement, he simply walks up to hizashi during free period and announces that aizawa "really misses him" and "needs a husband hug".

(he gags internally while saying these words, but he is nothing if not determined.)

just like that, hizashi is jolting out of his chair and whirling over to wrap aizawa in a tight hug.

the class goes silent.

nemuri, who's been leaning against the podium and chatting to aizawa casually, looks severely disappointed.

"wait." denki says. "wait, what the fuck? are you guys... wait."

the class erupts into noise.

katsuki, meanwhile, stomps up to nemuri and holds out a hand expectantly. the female hero huffs but reluctantly hands over her 3,000 yen nonetheless.

"what's going on?" hizashi asks curiously, still hanging off aizawa's shoulder.

"aizawa's student is a menace." nemuri mumbles.

said teacher shrugs.

"you should have expected this." he deadpans, completely unphased by the entire ordeal. "it'll teach you not to mess with katsuki."

katsuki grins wolfishly and stalks out of the class to collect the rest of his earnings.

as he leaves, eijirou perks up.

"wait, does that mean bakugou knew?" he asks slowly.

this, of course, sends the class into another wave of shouting.

for the next week, katsuki walks around carrying cups of offensively expensive coffee, financed by his newly-earned 30,000 yen, as he smirks in his teachers' faces.

"he doesn't even like coffee," nemuri complains. "he's just mean."

katsuki smiles at her serenely over his fresh flask, and she huffs petulantly.

[jaskiersvalley]

Ummmm so I am IN LOVE with your Geralt whump and it’s literally giving me life during this pandemic so like THANK YOU.

I come bearing more Geralt whump for you! Along with a side of angry Jaskier, some comfort and some fluff to boot. Hope you’re keeping safe and well in this pandemic!

Something wasn’t right about the contract. There shouldn’t have been a kikimora so deep into inhabited lands. For one, there weren’t any sufficiently murky bogs for the creature to actually live in. Then there was the issue of nobody having actually borne witness to it or encountered a tragedy with it. Not ever sheep were going missing. But, the advert was there on the noticeboard, calling for a witcher to deal with the creature. Money was low, Geralt and Jaskier couldn’t afford to be picky so the notice was plucked off the board and they made their way to the castle that had put out the contract.

There was far too much excitement in the courtyard at their approach. In fact, everyone seemed to spring into action as they were shown to the Great Hall.

“Witcher!” The count looked so pleased, he even smiled at Geralt. “We have a kikimora for you to kill. Do it well and we’ll even double the original pay.”

The amount of coin in question was more than Geralt would usually earn in half a year. All that for one single kikimora. Even more unusual, he and Jaskier were given a room, a comfortable one at that. They were to rest up and then go to the inner ward in the morning. The one request was that Geralt be ready to hunt straight from the meeting.

It was one of the best nights of sleep Geralt had ever had. The niggling feeling of something being off was so easy to ignore when Jaskier looked so happy. Food, bath, comfort as they both needed and rarely got to indulge in. In the morning, a servant intercepted them, apologetic as Geralt had ever seen anyone around a witcher and asked for Jaskier to accompany him.

“You’ve seen a kikimora a thousand times before, go,” Geralt said, urging Jaskier to go to his fans. A little longer in the laps of luxury while Geralt saw to the kikimora would be good for him. And at least he would be safe in the castle.

He was led to the doors to the inner ward and gestured through. Stepping out into daylight, the doors clanged shut behind him and he was out on the grounds, alone.

Meanwhile, Jaskier had been led through the castle, higher up and to the inner ramparts. They were crowded with nobility and rich merchants, all peering into the inner ward with excitement. A cheer went up and Jaskier was shown to a gap he could see from. Geralt had stepped into what could only be described as an arena from where Jaskier stood. It had been cleared of everything, a perfect battle ground. With a creak, the metal grates of a gate opened up at the far end of the inner ward and Jaskier watched as a kikimora lumbered out. He didn’t have to be a monster expert to know it was sickly, dried out and hungry. Obviously it had been kept in appalling conditions, for the sole purpose of entertainment for the upper echelons.

There was no choice for Geralt. It was kill or be killed. He draw a sword and walked up to the hissing, swaying creature. Jaskier knew Geralt, knew that there was going to be no theatrics, no show. In one deft step to the side and swing of his sword, the kikimora fell to the ground, head almost completely severed.

All the cheering stopped. The show and entertainment that had been anticipated was just a dream. Slowly, the ‘boos’ started and built into a raging, baying howl. They were going to have to leave and quickly. Jaskier pushed his way through the angry crowd and hurried back to their room, intent on packing up as hurriedly as he could. By the time Geralt was back, everything would be ready for travel.

It took longer for Geralt to return than anticipated and Jaskier was getting impatient. Finally, the door clicked quietly and Geralt stepped through, head bowed. A pouch of coin was thrown onto the bed without a word.

“Geralt!” Jaskier almost sighed his name in relief at seeing him. Silver hair hung in Geralt’s face but, as he moved, Jaskier swore he caught sight of eyes that weren’t their usual white and gold. It made no sense, there had been no need to take potions, especially not something like cat. In fact, Jaskier was quite sure they were low on potions and possibly didn’t even have any. “Geralt?”

When there was no response to his question, Jaskier reached out and gripped Geralt by the chin, turning his face to look at him. There were no potions at work and Jaskier gasped, hand reaching up to brush over the swollen, bruised skin. Geralt’s eye was red with burst vessels from where something had struck him.

“What the hell happened?” Jaskier asked, horrified. The kikimora hadn’t put up a fight, hadn’t even got beyond looking funny at Geralt before it died.

“Doesn’t matter. Got paid.” Geralt tried to step around Jaskier, doing his best to hide a limp. “Let’s go.”

There was no way they were going anywhere when Geralt was in such a state. Hands on hips, Jaskier pressed his lips into a firm line and watched as Geralt reached for a bag and his breath caught before he pushed through the pain.

“Put that down.” When Geralt refused to listen, Jaskier marched up to him. “You put that down this instant, get out of your armour and let me take a look. I need an inventory before I take me next step.”

In testament either to how much Geralt trusted him or how badly he was hurting, Geralt let the bag drop from his shoulder and let Jaskier help him out of his armour. Bruises, welts, skin split under strikes began to reveal themselves and Jaskier’s hands shook with rage.

“Fucking entitled bastards,” he cursed. A hand swept over bruised, likely cracked ribs. It looked like somehow had take a metal chain to Geralt and tried to whip it around him. “They’ll be so sorry they tried this ploy.”

He struggled to imagine what could have happened once he left. Whether the angry mob had swarmed the inner ward to take their fury out on Geralt. Or maybe Geralt had been summoned to the Great Hall and a select few of the count’s inner circle had been granted the alleged privilege. Though that would mean Geralt hadn’t fought back. Then again, this was Geralt, of course he wouldn’t have fought back. Probably had convinced himself he deserved it too.

Down to his smalls, Geralt let Jaskier do as he pleased, too tired to protest anything. Even when Jaskier gently bullied him into bed and told him to rest, meditate and take it easy.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised. It wasn’t often that Jaskier openly wore a weapon but he pulled his sword from his pack and strapped it against his hip. Marching out, Jaskier set off on a warpath.

In less time than anticipated, he was back and was pleasantly surprised to see Geralt was exactly where he left him, eyes closed and seemingly at peace. It was all a ploy, Jaskier knew he wouldn’t relax, not when alone in a castle that hurt him so badly.

“We have three days here, everything is at our disposal. Nobody will bother us. Food, bath, creature comforts, I talk to someone and it will happen.”

Gingerly, Jaskier sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked through Geralt’s hair, holding back a wince when his eyes opened. One was still a deep, blood red, likely would be for a couple of days before Geralt healed. It was just as well they had a few days in a protected space. If the masses saw Geralt as he was, no doubt there would be more tall tales about witchers.

Softly, Jaskier began to hum, lulling Geralt to sleep.

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you,” he promised, one hand on his sword’s hilt, the other in Geralt’s hair. The soft murmur Jaskier got in return could have been a ‘thanks’ or a hum of sceptical amusement, it didn’t matter. What was important was that Geralt got his rest and dignity.

[sassybirdmanandhisangstywife]

Ok fanfiction time! So this one is an alternate ending for the first movie in Diaval’s POV. It starts right after Maleficent kisses Aurora and breaks the curse. All events before the start of the fanfiction are the same as they are in the movie. Essentially, what happens if Stephan survives? With Maleval of course because why not. This is my first fanfiction, so I hope you enjoy! Constructive criticism is always appreciated.

Chapter 1

The Battle

We were losing.

Mistress, Aurora, and I were running through the castle, trying to get out before we were discovered. Now that Aurora was free of the curse (heh, no true love) we needed to leave. But I was so glad Aurora was awake I didn’t bother to check the throne room before we entered, and now Stephan’s soldiers circled around us, and Mistress was trapped under an iron net. Fucking iron. I thought it wasn’t possible to hate that self serving royal bastard any more than I already did, but in that moment my fury doubled. Worst of all, I couldn’t do anything to stop it, as I was stuck as a useless raven just when I was needed most. I pecked and scratched at the soldiers with everything I had, but as I couldn’t get through their iron armor (iron, always iron!). I was nothing more than a nuisance. At least Aurora was considered to be Stephan’s daughter, so she would be safe. That thought was my only comfort, for I was facing certain death as soon as the soldiers finished with Mistress. But then, I saw a small gleam of hope in Mistress’ eyes, and just before she passed out (at least I hope that’s all it was) she said

“Into a dragon”

Gold magic shot towards me, and I was enveloped inside. The usual excruciating pain followed, but at this moment I didn’t care. Now I was a dragon, powerful enough to protect those I cared for. Immediately I threw the net off of Mistress, praying she was still alive, and then I attacked. Breathing fire left and right, I protected my Mistress from harm. Soon enough, Mistress thankfully awoke and flung herself into battle as well. But it was not meant to be. The soldiers quickly covered me in iron chains, causing great pain as even without fae blood, literal tons of iron was painful for anyone. Mistress however, was inside a circle of soldiers, each holding a massive iron shield (seriously where do they get all of it??). Suddenly, he walked in. Stephan. Filled with new rage, I released a huge fireball his way before I was muzzled by yet another iron chain. Stephan meanwhile, dodged my blast and stepped into the ring of soldiers almost entirely covered in iron himself. He jeered at Mistress, believing he had won. And honestly, I was worried he was right.

Stephan lunged at Mistress with his sword (can you guess what it was made out of?). Thankfully, Mistress dodged his attack, but seeing as she couldn’t counter magically with all of this iron, we all knew she wouldn’t last long. Desperately, I fought to free myself from the soldier’s chains, but they held fast. In that moment I was grateful dragons couldn’t cry, because otherwise I wouldn’t be able to see. I couldn’t just sit there and let her die. She has to live! If only for Aurora’s sake. Just as Stephan raised his sword to strike the final blow, something shot into the room and went straight for Mistress. She was lifted into the air and surrounded by her magic, although I didn’t think she had a hand in this. After a moment, she was set down, and she had her wings. I couldn’t believe it. She had them back! And ravens was she stunning. I looked to where the wings had come from, and there was Aurora, standing in the doorway, looking as shocked as I felt. Did she bring Mistress’ wings? There was no time to determine an answer, as Mistress flew down with those gorgeous wings of hers, grabbed Stephan, and threw them both out of the throne room’s window.

I hoped she would be alright, but right now I had to protect myself and Aurora from the hoard of soldiers, who had turned their attentions to me now that Mistress was gone. Luckily my tail was still free, so I shot it out from my body and wrapped it around Aurora like a cobra. I pulled her back and literally took her under my wing. With cries of “it’s got the princess!” (Really, IT!?) the soldiers attacked with even more force. I fought valiantly, but there were too many and I was far too weak. Soon enough they took out one of my forelegs, which caused me to fall to my side, exposing both Aurora and my delicate underside. I launched my tail into the air to keep my fledgling out of reach, but my belly suffered the consequences. Iron weapons speared themselves into me in an attempt to end my life, but I had to keep fighting. I had to protect Aurora! Just as I was about to black out, Mistress swept into the room, gold magic crackling around her form. She spoke with all the confidence in the world.

“Lay down your weapons at once! Stephan is dead, with no one to blame for it, which means his kingdom should be passed on to his-“ she gagged a little. “daughter Aurora. Let her speak, and I will adhere to whatever her judgement may be”

The soldiers conversed amongst themselves, seemingly debating whether to agree to Mistress’ terms. Finally, their captain spoke up.

“How do we know we can trust you”

Maleficent gave the captain what looked to me like an expression of respect, but I must have been delirious because that couldn’t possibly have actually happened.

“Because I broke Aurora’s curse.”

“That’s impossible, a witch like you would never-“

“How dare you insult my godmother?!” Came a shout from above.

Everyone turned to see Aurora, still wrapped in my tail high above the ground, calling out to the captain with anger written all across her face.

“Your- what?” The captain said, not willing to believe his ears.

“My godmother.” Came the reply. “You will not insult her. Nor will you attack her or Diaval” she gestured to my near limp form “any longer. Lay down your weapons, and let’s settle this peacefully!”

Everyone in the room was shocked at Aurora’s speech, even Mistress. My little fledgling really has grown up. It’s enough to make an old bird cry. But I didn’t really have the energy for that now. In fact, I don’t think I have the energy to even stay conscious much longer. With a pitiful moan, I gratefully placed Aurora on the ground and let my tail go limp. Mistress would keep her safe, and besides, I’m starting to think my fledgling can handle herself. Mistress however, quickly turned her attention to me after hearing my quite pathetic groans.

“Diaval are you alright?” She asked worriedly. Normally I would voice a quip, such as “really Mistress do you honestly need to ask me that?”, but since I was a dragon I merely stared in what I hoped was a mischievous way at her. She got a better look at my wounds, and Mistress’ eyes widened before she could stop them.

“Beastie come here quickly!” She shouted, and Aurora came running.

“Godmother what i- oh DIAVAL!” She said, and began frantically gathering soldiers to remove the iron weapons they had just finished jamming inside of me (karma’s a bitch). They hurriedly did so, mostly because of the scathing glares Mistress gave each and every one of them. Mistress herself was having a difficult time letting humans help me, especially the ones who caused this problem in the first place, but seeing as she herself couldn’t touch the iron she didn’t have much choice. After the swords, the soldiers moved on to the many, many chains I had wrapped around me. I couldn’t stop myself from pathetically roaring in pain as the soldiers preformed many of the tasks. Aurora winced at every shout, so I bit back most of my screams for her (and my pride’s) sake. When it was finished, Mistress shooed (that being a rather tame term for it) the soldiers out of the throne room, an order to which they hastily complied. Mistress gently placed her hands on my snout and let her magic flow slowly across my body and heal the worst of my injuries. Normally she could fix me up until it looked like no battle had touched me, but her power was drained due to her own wounds and all of the iron still in this room! I sighed internally. This will definitely leave a few marks on my beautiful self

“I’m sorry I can’t do more for you my friend.” Mistress said quietly, her words meant only for my ears.

“Will he be alright Godmother?” Aurora asked.

“Yes Aurora, but he will need to remain a dragon until my magic is strengthened and I can do more to heal him, otherwise his injuries could grow even worse”

I gave a snort at that. There was no way in the Moors Mistress couldn’t turn me back, she just didn’t want to hear the I told you so lecture I had planned about true love when I could talk again.

“Good to see your sense of humor’s still intact” Mistress said with a chuckle, and that was the last thing I heard before slipping into unconsciousness (alright I admit, maybe she really couldn’t turn me back yet).

[darkenedreaper]

So Was I

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader, Avengers x reader.

Warnings: angst, strong violence, language.

Part 4/?

As you were being rushed down the medical ward on a stretch with wheels, Maria was by your side, sticking with you in case your arc powered off which would result in your heart failing and could result in your dying. She was whispering reassurances only you could hear, and her hand was stroking hair away from your eyes. Maria was very formal and professional woman at work, but you had been friends for so many years and you had become someone she would call family. Your head was tilted towards her and an oxygen mask hid some of your restraint and beaten face, but blood coated the ring of the mask. You were then wheeled into an operating room, most likely to hook you up and check your heart and stitch up the wounds that seeped with betrayal. Maria was told to leave the room and she didn’t without fuss not wanting to cause disturbance around you.

Meanwhile, Natasha was rummaging her way through hallways as she nearly crashed so to every person who walked by her. She had a million things to say to you, a million things to apologise for. Her heart ached with how she realised she had been treating you, the way she abandoned you and hadn’t even double checked instead at the time she was blinded with rage and hurt. And all she could see in her mind, was you lonely figure roaming in the kitchen at night as you always did trying not to bump into the team as you didn’t want to piss anyone off at 3 in the morning.

She hadn’t been able to sleep, and she shrugged it off from it being a hard mission, when deep down. Somewhere deep where she couldn’t admit it. It was because of the absence of your arms. The loneliness they created. Bruce couldn’t hold her like you would, your hand would be wrapped around her middle, your arm tucked underneath hers that rested on top of your as her had was wrapped around your wrist. Your legs would perfectly curl up and bend into hers as hers would do the same. Your warmth would radiate into her back creating a feeling like home.

Then she saw a skinny, hunched as tired figure walk into the kitchen, a figure that jumped as soon as it saw her.

“N-Natasha hi.. umm can I just grab a water?”

She knew you hadn’t eaten all day and she could sense your fear of being shouted out or perhaps being pushed backwards out of the kitchen. Instead she just shrugged. She flicked the page of her magazine yet her eyes were trained on you.

“Great thanks. Umm.. I’ll just get it and head off.”

She noticed how your voice had got quieter and she noticed how quick your actions were to grab a bottle of water.

She was disgusted with herself it took this many months, this amount of pain for her to realise she still loved you and always had. She was so focused on getting to you, she nearly fell over once a nurse had stopped her in her tracks whilst nearly falling over herself. She had tried to push Natasha over to the waiting area while Natasha was shouting your name frantically and as she was receiving no information and no response back from you it worried her more and she could feel the tear stinging in her eyes, threatening to slide down her cheeks. Maria had placed her hands tightly on Natashas arms and lead her to the window where they could both see your nearly lifeless body laid on the table as doctors swarmed around you. The rest of the team had also appeared in the room leading in quietly. The room was tense, there was a lot of upset and guilty flowing throughout the room. No one spoke, no one whispered. They just hoped. The doctors tried looking at your reactor and it was all looking positive. Thor had received an urgent message from Steve as he contacted Thor in Asgard when he was being away his shield.

Until that dreadful sound of a heart going into a cardiac arrest, then the killing sound of a flatline. Maria tensed up and Natasha just stared at your body, her nails digging into the little ledge just below the window. Steve swallowed hard, and he frowned and his lips went upside down. Bucky had the same expression only his eyes were shut. Tony was leaning against the back wall so nobody could see his tears. Thor had a strong grip on his red clothing and he too had tears in his eyes. Clint had his head down, he was close to getting upset, but he tried to not make too much sound as he was sure he’d sob. Bruce had his arms folded, head down in a corner. He hid his hands away as he couldn’t bare to look at them. Couldn’t bare to remember the punches he laid at your face. Wanda and Vision were holding onto each other, Vision holding onto Wanda more so as she had started to cry the minute the shield was struck down into your reactor.

The machine had confused to flatline and it was about a minute before they could bring you back. They all looked up towards you as they heard the, faint but there, heartbeat. They wanted to smile, cheer but they couldn’t.

The doctors advised them all to give you a few hours of rest as right now you were in critical condition. Natasha had begged to see you. She even had written pages of what she wanted to say. They had all made their own seats and space in the waiting area that was a few doors down from your room. Natasha was even woken up by Tony as she had fallen asleep on the floor, her back to your locked door. Her eyes bloodshot and her tears had stained her cheeks.

By now the news had headlined that you were in a critical condition as you continued to lay in the Avengers compound, med bay.

From what they could see, you had a straight dent that went across your arc reactor and skin scratched from where his shield had broken through your suit and into your skin. Steve turned his head away from the scene, Bucky trying to comfort him.

It was about 19 hours since they had been waiting. People came in, and people left. Some people in suits came in, and hadn’t left yet. Perhaps they were in the same situation as themselves. They had practically dragged each other along to go and get something to eat yet all of them refused to sleep. They had gotten changed at least. Natasha put on one of your hoodies she always kept in her wardrobe. Bucky wore his red jumper you’d gotten him for one of his birthdays. Tony had put his brown bracelet that you’d gotten him which represented his family. And Steve had put on his gold chain that had a little logo at the bottom. It was half of the Captain America logo and half of yours. Steve had always admired you for your soldier like skills and honoured you for your past time in the military which is why he was one of the closest to you.

After they had refreshed a little, they all went back to the ward only to find Nick Fury standing there. And his face was... troubled? But he had anger residing in his for how they treated one of his best agents. Natasha swallowed her anxious feelings back down to the pit of her stomach. She knew something had gone wrong.

“Agent L/N has been kidnapped. Possible by Hydra. We’re doing all we to bring her back, but right now chances are slim.”

He walked away after his sentence had been spoke. They all stood still frozen in one place. Tony literally ran away to his lab as Bruce followed, hoping they could mess around with your laptop perhaps see if they could trace your arc reactor. Steve and Bucky remained there. Thor had to sit down still recovering from the shock. Natasha nearly collapsed but her knees kept her up, just about. A single tear fell down her face, as she whispered to herself,

“Y/N..”

@natasha-danvers @aaron-despair @confusinggemini612 @imnotasuperhero @thewidowsghost @ecruzsalaz @fcbarcelona-and-marvel-4-life @gaytrashgoblin @capmarvelq @nat-romanoffdanvers @fayhar @lesbian-x-blackwidow @emilyprentisswife @captain-josslett @oblivious-horny-lesbian @trikruismybitch @summergeezburr @username23345

[royalheroine]

Helen regretted arriving to new york city much earlier than her family. She arrived to see a stream of aliens coming through a big portal in the sky. She had to act fast. She should’ve run. Should’ve stayed in a cafe or something, but she did something highly impulsive. She fought.

She quickly found a broken pipe in the alleyway and started hitting at the aliens. The aliens started shooting bolts of light at her and she adapted by finding a broken off car door. She was surprised that it blocked most of the shots. She found herself protecting the stay victims and escorting people to nearby bulidings or outreach refugee camps.

Blood sprayed on her face while she stabbed a alien in the head with the sharp pipe. She didn’t notice the wound on her left side, and didn’t complain about the scratches and bruises on her legs. She just wanted it to end. She hoped her family is not here, even if they didn’t care about her. She then decided to head to the stark tower, maybe the aliens held hostages in there.

----

She found herself going up to the top floor after realizing that no one is being held hostage on the lobby floor.

---

The elevator door opened and she saw a man with raven black hair. Wearing a royal overcoat adorend with gold trimmings and fabric. He held a glowing scepter.

‘Shit did i just find the villian?!’ she thought to herself.

“And who might you be.” He smirked.

She carefully stepped out of the elevator. Trying to identify or at least avoid his attacks. Surviving multiple aliens seemed hard, but this encounter would be even harder.

“I-I thought people would be taken hostage in this tower- I think I thought wrong. Wait-” she looked at the crescent shaped charm on his chest.

“A-are you a god?” She asked. The symbol looked very similar to the symbol in her norse mythology storybook. The storybook that she read over and over again.

“Oh, so you know your place. You realize who I really am, your god.” He spoke to her.

“Y-are you- Loki?” She abandoned all feelings of fear and terror. Those feelings were replaced with feelings of childlike curiosity.

“Yes, how does a mere mortal know about my name?” He was curious too. He thought that mortals only knew about their own realm.

“Uh- apparently people from the past worshipped you, and Thor and Odin and others, they’re called Norse. And I guess they wrote stories about you! Stories that I read a lot. And, yeah, I know this is a really weird thing to say to someone who is invading your planet but- I- you’re my favorite god.” She looked away.

‘Thats my last words. I literally called my killer my favorite and I’m going to die. Great.’ She thought to herself.

Loki put down his scepter. He wanted to entertain this small, puny mortal. A mortal that didn’t seem to fear him.

“Come child.” He guided her to the bar.

—

“So, what do they say about me?” He asked her.

“Well… They said that you can shapeshift and that you had a baby with a horse.” She giggled. The god wrinkled the bridge of his nose.

“God, the way you mortals create stories are weird and highly inaccurate. I only raised a baby horse, not gave birth to it.” He clarified, leaning the scepter against the bar.

“I mean, you were not portrayed as wholly evil or wholly good, since mischeif is neutral in morality. Which means you’re not a villain. Right? She asked

“That’s where you’re wrong. My brother is a hero and I am the villain. A villain who is not even asguaridan.” He told her.

“Y-you’re also compared to your brother?” She asked shyly

“Yes, all the time.” He huffed

“Well, you’re in the same boat, my brother, Finn. He’s older, cuter, a golden child and good at everything. Meanwhile, you have me… Messy, uncoordinated and decided to fight instead of run away like anyone else.” She said.

“Fighting is a more noble pursuit than running.” he told her, but he noticed that she was bleeding on her side.

“Oh dear, that’s not a nice sight.” He carefully laid her down on the couch.

“W-what?” She was getting faint, she didn’t notice that she was bleeding out. Loki summoned a rag and started using his healing magic. But he had limited knowledge.

“Stay with me dear, once you wake up, we will rule together, besides, two monsters should shine in the sunlight.” He assured the sleeping child.

---

The girl woke up to see a group of heroes circling Loki. She stood up but her wound thobbed.

“Ah!” She dobled over. Clutching her side. A man dressed in blue and red came over to her.

“Did he hold you hostage?” He asked.

“No- I- he healed me.” She said grogilly. She didn’t realize that it was all over.

“Dear, you should’nt move as much.” Loki called to her. The blue hero looked confused.

“Ah- where is he going?” She asked.

“Back to asgard.” The blonde hero said.

“Are you Thor then?” She asked. Staggering once she stood up.

“Yes” He smiled lightly, probably trying to calm down the shaking child.

“Your age?” The blue hero said.

“11.” She meekly said.

“You hurt a child!” Thor shouted at Loki.

“No! He actually took care of me! We- had a conversation!” She shouted in protest.

“He hypnotized you.” The blue hero tried to get the situation straight.

“I WOULD NEVER! NOT A CHILD!” Loki shouted. Thor only put a mechanical gag on loki.

“I-i”

“Lets get you down, alright?” The blue hero gave a comforting smile.

She found herself stuffed in a small elevator with a bunch of heroes and a villain. She was slightly shaking from the excess adrenaline and the pain from the wound. Loki kept glancing at her, worried that she might faint from the blood.

“Sooo…. What is your name kid?” The man in the iron suit asked.

“Helen. Helen Conrad.” She told him.

“Well, lets lighten up! Lets all introduce ourselves. I’ll start off. My name is Tony stark! Real names only!”

“I am Steve Rodgers.” The blue hero smiled.

“Natasha Romanov.”

“Clint Barton.”

“Thor Odinson”

She smiled brightly. “Thank you for introducing yourselves!”

----

She found herself in the lobby, witnessing the fight over a glowing blue cube.

‘Why are they so obsessed with that cube?’ she asked herself.

--

“Your parents haven’t shown up.” Thor pointed out as they sat ontop of the car.

“Not surprised, probably busy with my brother.” She leaned back. Probably thinking that she’d just settle back into her normal life.

“What if you came with me. To Asgard.” He asked her.

She turned to him. “Y-you’d really bring me?” She asked.

“If your parents are as neglectful as they are, then I should probably just bring you to a better place. Your skills will be better cultivated on Asgard than with your parents.” He said.

“Also, you’ve made a profound impact on my brother, Loki. So would you be kind to come on behalf of him? He doesn’t show it but he’d like you to come too.” he asked.

“D-definately! Definitely!” She shouted. Jumping up and down.

“I-i- d-definately- w-wait. Give me a s-second.” She was getting too excited that her stuttering became apparent. She took a deep breath.

She gave a curt, “Yes. yes I would like to go.” She smiled. Thor grinned.

“You would definately love the palace.”

---

Loki and Thor held on to the container with the tesseract and Helen stood behind the container.

“Are you sure we should let a child go to a different realm with two gods, and one of them tried to invade our planet.” Steve asked Tony.

“I’m sure Thor would keep her safe, besides, we might have to hold her in the tower when she comes back.” Tony repled.

“Why?” Steve asked.

“I’m pretty skeptical about the fact that a child was able to battle her way into my tower and talk down the god of lies without getting killed in the process.” He remarked.

---

Helen was beamed in the entrance of the rainbow bridge. She walked with the two gods. One in chains and one with the hammer. She looked at the view of Asgard. It looked grander than she’d imagine. The golden towers were glistening in the sunlight. The rainbow bridge was translucent but had rainbow like branches pulsing through the bridge. She seemed scared to cross the bridge at first. Having a slight fear of heights. But Thor grabbed on to her hand and gave her comforting look.

Loki looked on, wishing he could do the same. But glad that his brother did it in his place.

---

Helen was being addressed by the king of Asgard. Odin.

“You have the heart of a heroine and the capacity to empathize with even the toughest of villains. Tell me, child. What is your name?” He asked her.

“He-he-Helen.” She stuttered. Cursing herself for stuttering in front of the king.

“Conrad.”

“Conraddotar?” Odin clarified

“You can call me that.” she said.

“Enjoy yourself at the palace, you are now considered royalty for extending your kindness to my son, Loki.” Odin said.

---

Helen wore a simple green gown. She was happily skipping around and exploring the palace.

“Helen, dear, can you come to me?” A voice sounded in the hallway.

She turned to see Queen Frigga.

“Let’s fix yout hair, shall we?”

--

Helen was sitting on Frigga’s bed while Frigga was braiding her hair.

“Thank you for everything that you’ve done. Tell me, Helen, what is your family like?” She asked.

“Well, I have a brother, and two parents. But my parents lives revolve around my brother. But- Im ok with that. I do things by myself and I got used to it.” She said.

“Ah- im sorry my dear. But here, there are servants and maids that can help you. So relax. I know how traumatic the invasion was, so I hope you realze that you are safe.

----

Helen was sitting on the steps, looking at Loki in his cell. She noticed that he has a lot of furniture in his cell. He was reading a book, and she was scribbling something in her notebook.

“Mind telling me what you’re writing down, dear?” He asked, thumbing through the pages.

“Uh-I-I’m actually d-drawing.” She said. Trying not to stutter.

“What are you drawing?” He asked.

“You.” She meekly said. Loki put the book on the table and walked towards Helen, he sat down in front of her.

“Mind showing me?” He smiled lightly.

She tore the page out and she showed it to him. It was loki and helen, under a flower tree. He was reading a spell out of the spell book.

“That looks adorable. When I escape, will you hand it to me?” He smiled.

“Of course.”

—-

“Do you like the accommodations in the palace?” Loki asked, hoping that they are taking care of her.

“Yes, but I wish I can enjoy them with you.” She answered. Twiddling her thumbs.

“So I decided to sit at your cell and talk to you!” She grinned. Loki’s heart melted. He’d never knew that he’d meet someone who was so naive and childlike. Enough to paint him as a positive figure. But he didn’t care. He just felt a sense of kindness towards her. He feels fond of her. He never realized that he was fawning over a mortal. Who’s life can flash before his eyes.

“That is great child.” He said.

“Wish I had my chello here, could’ve played you a tune.” She said. Loki used some of his magic to steal away a chello from the music room and teleported it here.

“Then play me a tune then.” He smiled

—

Loki was spellbound by the tune, she played a song that a mortal composed. But he didn’t know that the mortal is a master at music composition. Apparently the song was Blue Danube, by Johan Strauss. He swayed to the melody. By the time Helen was done he asked her a dozen questions.

--

“How long have you played?”

“5 years. Started at a young age, when my parents believed in my talents.” she told me.

“They should’ve known how bright you’ve shined.”

“Don’t blame them. They stop trying after finding out about my stutter.” She said.

“Your parent’s arent even parents.” I told her.

“I realized that when I hit 9.” she replied.

“Then maybe you should have a different father. Someone who adores you, who encourages you to be as different and unique as possible, who doesn’t compare you to anyone, who empathizes with you. Someone- someone like me.” He slowed his rant. Realizing something.

“D-do you want me to be your father?” He asked. Taking a big risk, being vulnerable .

“I-i-i’d lo-love yo-you to!” She was a stuttering mess, her brain was trying to process the proposal.

“Dear, slow down, take a big breath.” He grinned

“I would like for you to be my dad.” she slowly said. Tears coming out of her eyes.

“I would whipe those tears from your eyes but I’m stuck in this wretched cell.” He chuckled.

“I want to hug you.” She sniffled.

“You’ll get the chance.”

---

Everything was broken, damaged. But Helen rushed towards Loki’s cell. She just got word of Frigga’s death. And she didn’t want to lose her new father. She saw Loki in his cell, seeming to be fine. But she just broke out in sobs.

Her breathing was ragged. Tears flow through her eyes, and she was sniffling. She collapsed to the ground. Choking and crying. Crying for him, Loki. Feeling too much of his pain. Loki put down his defenses.

He had a green shirt but his hair was matted, her crawled to the crying child and wanted to reach out to her, but the barrier kept him from touching her.

“H-hey. Don’t cry-”

“You’re depressed so I’m depressed! I don’t want this to happen, for you to be sad! I-its my fault! I’m sorry. I-I. i’m- s-s-sorry. Mr. Loki! I-i have no-no right to be you-your daughter!” She was stuttering, trying to calm herself down. But the stale air and the buzzing barrier, it was hard to.

“No, don’t say that, you’re my daughter through and through. None of this was your fault. None of it. Please, stop crying for me.” He guided her to a deep breath.

“S-sorry.” she apologized for her shrill crying

“Don’t be sorry.” He smiled.

---

Helen gave Loki a big hug when Thor freed him from the cell. Loki returned the hug while threading his fingers through her braided hair.

“Darling, I have to help Thor. But I will come back.” he told her.

“A-are you sure?” She asked.

“One way or another. Yes.”

--

When Helen found out about Loki’s demise, she locked herself in the room and cried. She sobbed, blaming herself for letting him go alone. Hating herself. A knock sounded at the door. The door opened and she saw Odin.

“S-sorry if my cries are too loud.” she whipped her tears.

“It’s alright my child.” Odin sat at her beside.

“I-Lost my dad.” She stuttered.

“He said he’d come back-”

“One way or another.” Odin’s illusion was dispelled by Loki. He smiled kindly at her.

“I am sorry for causing you unnecessary pain. But I had to keep up the illusion for my safety.” He whipped her tears with his thumb. And enveloped her in a crushing hug.

“But now we can rule together. My little princess.” He smiled.

[rarely-conscious]

Wrote some smut for a friend, coz what else are friends for?

Posting it under a cut coz it’s long (for a tumblr post at least) will hopefully get it uploaded to literotica soon.

Constructive feedback is always appreciated. Oh, and it’s got Thor in it xD

Ride the Lightning

He sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. His long golden hair fell across his face as he massaged his temples, he felt completely drained from the day’s events. The god of thunder sat there for several minutes, perched on the purple silk covers of his bed. The bedroom itself was lavish, like most of Asgard the walls were adorned with gold. Several doors led off the main chamber, one to the en-suite bathroom, another to a walk-in wardrobe larger than most people’s living rooms.

Thor was so busy lamenting the long day that he’d had, that he didn’t notice her come in. He was reflecting on the plethora of meetings and various other political obligations he’d had to deal with that day. It wasn’t until the sound of clothing dropping to the floor that he finally looked up. His chiselled jaw dropped as he took in the sight of his paramour. Nic stood about 5 feet in front of him, a cloak lying at her feet. She posed seductively, hands on corset-clad hips. Her electric blue hair fell to just below her shoulders, and she wore black lipstick that contrasted starkly against her ivory skin. As Thor’s gaze traversed its way down her frame he took in the sight of her ample cleavage, ready to burst out of her cobalt corset. Her lower half was covered with black lace panties and a pair of fishnet tights. A pair of knee-high boots completed the look.

By the simple act of gazing upon the face of his lover, Thor felt his fatigue melt away almost instantly. His hands fell to his side as he stood, covering the distance between them in several quick strides. Despite the fact Nic stood at nearly six feet tall in her heels, he still had to lower his face to meet hers. Their lips met with a literal spark from the god, causing a high pitched squeak to escape from Nic. Her hands came to rest around his neck, whilst his gripped around each side of her waist. They continued to kiss passionately, tongues dancing in each other’s mouths as Nic moved her hands up, gripping his long golden hair between her pale fingertips.

Thor was the one to break the kiss, lowering his lips down to her neck, sucking gently on the skin at regular intervals while moving towards her ear. She bit her lip as he made it to her right ear, and he started gently nibbling on her ear lobe. Nic shut her eyes and tightened her grip, now pulling tightly on his hair. He let out a low thunderous growl at the light twinge of pain, and she felt herself melt in his arms.

Several moments later, Nic’s pale hands had found their way underneath the cloth of Thor’s shirt. Her fingers began tracing her way up the grooves of his chiseled abdominal muscles. Thor continued to elicit breathy moans from her in response as he gently nibbled on her ear. As her breathing became quickly more laboured, Nic decided to start moving her right hand in the opposite direction quite abruptly, tracing back down his skin, past his waist and down to the front of his trousers. She felt a thick bulge rapidly growing beneath her hand.

The low growling from Thor once again reverberated around the room like thunder as he felt his lover’s hand rubbing up and down over his crotch. He quickly pulled himself back up to his full height, grabbing Nic by the waist. His strong arms lifted her briefly into the air before throwing her forcefully onto the bed. She bounced nearly a foot in the air after landing.

Taken aback by the sudden change of position, she lifted her head off the pillows, straining to see what had become of Thor. He was already half-way out of his shirt. She continued to watch as he pulled it over his head and cast it aside. Thor’s muscles, now exposed to the light of the bedroom rippled with the occasional spark of electricity. Nic bit her lip in anticipation, her heart racing.

Taking several steps forward, Thor mounted the bed, crawling towards his lover. Their eyes locked briefly before their lips followed suit. The kissing continued for several minutes, muffled grunts and moans almost continuously escaping from both pairs of lips as the intensity increased. Nic’s long black fingernails drew thin red lines down Thor’s chiseled back, raking against his bare skin. Thor felt the sharp pressure making grooves in his back and moaned loudly into Nic’s mouth. He bit her bottom lip, lightly tugging on it as she continued to rake her nails across his back, over and over again until there were dozens of criss-crossing lines marking his sculpted torso.

“Careful”, he breathed into her ear “I’ll have to tie you down if you can’t be more careful with those claws”. She let out an involuntary moan in response, and almost unconsciously drew her nails down his back one last time. Thor grinned wryly at her response. “That’s what I thought”. As he finished speaking, he lifted himself up off of the bed, his strong arms easily breaking her grip on his torso. He stood by the head of the four-poster, reaching for the nearest post. A faint glow emanated from the point of contact as his fingers brushed against the twisted gold of the bedpost. Nic wasn’t quite able to make out the words he whispered in a low breath, but she was sure that they weren’t from a language she recognised.

The moment Thor finished speaking, thick grey chains sprung from the top of the four bedposts. They snaked their way down towards the bed, slithering along the covers until they reached Nic’s pale skin. The chains from the foot of the bed slid their way underneath her body, forming a makeshift hammock beneath her as they lifted her entire body gently into the air. Meanwhile the remaining pair of chains began to slowly turn her over until she was face-down, hanging about a foot off the bed. The chains then slowly lowered her back down onto the bed, but they didn’t relinquish their hold on her. Instead each one wrapped itself around a different limb, coiling multiple times until she was ensnared up to her knees and elbows respectively.

Nic was now hanging face-down above the silk sheets, with each of her four limbs attached to a different bedpost. The metal of the chains was cold, but not uncomfortably so, and she was surprised in the lack of pressure on her torso. Here she was suspended by her arms and legs, but could not feel her own body pulling down against the chains. Instead she felt like a cushion of air was supporting the rest of her body. She felt somehow completely exposed, and entirely safe at the same time. She knew her lover would not let any harm befall her, whether she was bound and helpless in their bedroom or standing by his side in battle.

“Now then” said Thor, abruptly pulling Nic out of her train of thought, “are you going to behave?” he asked in a low voice.

“Y-yes sir” Nic said meekly, her voice barely above a whisper. Thor moved slowly around the head of the bed until he was level with Nic. As she raised her head to face him, her eyes were met with the sight of Thor’s smooth stomach. The urge to sink her teeth into his skin was only overcome by the restraints that kept her suspended in place.

“I beg your pardon?” asked Thor, with just a hint of menace in his voice.

“Yes sir, I will behave” her response was more resolved than before, but still quiet.

“How can I believe you?” asked Thor “when you already disobeyed me by continuing to use those talons of yours.” Various noises of discomfort came out of Nic’s mouth, none of them quite resembling words. “Save your tongue my love, it was rhetorical” he smirked, amused at how easily he could fluster her into such a mess that she was no longer coherent. “I think we shall make it ten strikes as punishment today, five on each side - what say you?” He knelt down so that his face was level with hers.

Her nods came as an unconscious reaction, “yes sir” she repeated for the third time. She became filled with a strange mixture of trepidation and excitement, as she knew first hand just how hard the god of thunder could smack her round arse. Thor reached one hand forward, lifting her chin towards him and gave her a soft, firm kiss. “Good girl” he growled. Nic could feel her cheeks reddening while her panties grew damp just from hearing those two magic words.

Quite abruptly he broke the kiss and stood up. As he vanished from her view Nic could feel him climb back onto the bed next to her. She tried not to tense up, knowing how much more it would hurt if she did.

*SMACK*

The loud sound lightly echoed around the large room, followed quickly by the sound of Thor’s voice “one.”

*SMACK*

“Two” he continued, as he spanked her again. The third and fourth blows came quickly, one after the other. While there was a longer pause between the fifth and sixth. The god continued his counting out loud as each blow landed, smiling to himself as he watched his bound beauty squirm beneath his touch. Finally the ninth and tenth blows came, and while Thor had definitely reigned in the force he was using by this point, Nic still felt each stinging blow more intensely than the last.

As her punishment ended, she once again heard a low whisper from Thor in the form of several strange words she could not quite make out. She felt herself lowering towards the bed as the chains extended. Expecting to be freed she attempted to turn around to face Thor, but could not. The thick metal chains were still wrapped tightly around her limbs, but now she was laid flat on the bed instead of being suspended above it. Before she could convey her confusion she felt a finger slide up the length of her slit. An involuntary shudder came over her while a loud moan of pleasure escaped her lips.

“You’re mine” came the deep voice of Thor, now directly behind her as he lifted her hips from the bed. Her legs had been moved into a kneeling position, while her face still laid sideways on the crisp silk sheets. Nic felt her panties being pulled to one side and Thor pressing the tip of his cock against her pussy. He entered her slowly, savouring the sensation while moving a hand to each of her hips. Nic let out a gasp as she felt the warmth of his cock filling her up. His strong fingers dug into her skin as he gripped her hips tightly, gradually easing his cock in all the way to the base. He pulled about half way out before pushing himself in again all the way to the base. It wasn’t long before Thor had built up a rhythm, the light sound of skin slapping against skin as the bed shook beneath them from the force of his thrusting. This continued on for several minutes before Thor’s pace began to slow, beads of sweat now appearing at his forehead.

One final thrust came before a quick slap to Nic’s still reddening behind. She let out a strange sound that was half-way between a yelp and a moan. She barely had time to recover before she felt the heavy metal of her chains unwinding, pulling away from her skin. Despite the imprints on her arms and legs, she felt no residual soreness from her bondage, only the hot stinging on her still sensitive backside. Seconds later she felt herself once again being flipped over, landing softly on her back. Her eyes were quickly greeted to the sight of the now naked Thor kneeling above her, his expression one of pure lust. His arms reached out towards the top of her corset, caressing the exposed skin of her pale breasts before ripping the garment clean in two. A brief feeling of sadness on Nic’s part as she watched the two halves of the shredded corset cast aside. They were quickly forgotten as Thor dove onto her breasts. She began to moan again in earnest as he sucked on each of her nipples in turn, his fingers playfully pinching and twisting the one not currently between his lips and teeth. As he continued to alternate between sucking on each breast, Nic reached out with her right hand until she found Thor’s stomach. She traced her way down his abdomen with her index finger until reaching his crotch before grasping his rock hard cock in her hand.

Nic wrapped her fingers around his shaft, slowly massaging her way up and down while Thor sucked hungrily away at her nipples. The urge to pleasure her partner in return had been building up in her for a while at this point, and moments later she used the brief pause in Thor’s sucking to push him off her. Grabbing his back, she pulled him down next to her before sitting up. She continued stroking his cock, steadily increasing the pace before lowering her head. Nic’s blue hair, now somewhat dishevelled covered most of her face as her lips parted. She gently licked and swirled her tongue around the head of his cock. The taste of her own juices lingered on him, causing her to let out a deep ‘mmmh’ at the same time as her lips enveloped his cock.

Thor for his part was also moaning gently, closing his eyes in elation as he gripped a handful of purple bed sheets either side of him. Spurred on by her lover’s reactions, she began to bob up and down, her right hand continuing to massage his shaft and balls as her lips and tongue worked furiously. She teased him every now and then, releasing his length from her mouth and then ever so slowly sliding her tongue from base to tip.

After the third time she ran her tongue all the way up the underside of his cock, Thor grew tired of the teasing. Without so much as looking down he grabbed two handfuls of her disheveled blue hair and pushed her entire face back down on his cock. She gagged and spluttered as he reached the back of her throat. There was only a couple of seconds for her to gasp for air before he used the grip he had on the back of her head to vigorously fuck her face.

Just as suddenly as he had started, Thor stopped. Pulling Nic off of his cock and letting her catch her breath for several seconds before pushing her back down on the bed. He treated her panties with the same disregard he had her corset, tearing them off her in one swift motion. This in turn created a large hole in her fishnets, leaving her beautiful pale form completely exposed, save for the remainder of the tights. Thor beheld the wonderful sight of his now naked lover for several seconds before diving back down towards her. This time his face went straight towards her pussy, pushing her legs apart with his hands and licking away enthusiastically.

Nic’s moans once again echoed throughout the room as he widened his tongue, running it all the way up and down her slit. He quickly switched to putting pressure on her clit with his tongue, increasing the volume of her outbursts. She could feel him alternating between licking in circular motions and gently sucking on her clit. Not satisfied, he moved his right hand toward her, sliding a finger inside. Her intense arousal allowed him to easily slide his index finger in, so he quickly added his middle finger, turning his palm face-up and motioning the ‘come hither’ gesture. Thor continued to lap at her pussy in earnest, attempting to respond to her reactions by changing movement or pressure when she got quieter, and doubling down when a particularly loud moan escaped her lips.

A number of minutes passed before Nic felt a familiar tingling sensation building up. She gripped handfuls of Thor’s hair, pushing his face into her crotch. She let out a moan that was almost a scream as her whole body convulsed, shaking as the orgasm overtook her. Thor did not relent, moving his tongue quickly over her clit along with his fingers continuing their beckoning motion inside her. Together they rode out her climax, Thor only relenting when she had completely stopped shaking.

Just when she thought she had a moment of respite, she once again felt strong hands maneuvering her body. Thor had picked her up off the bed once again, this time he was sitting upright on the edge of the bed. He lowered her down, his cock entering her pussy for a second time. Still sensitive from her recent orgasm, Nic shuddered as she was slowly lowered onto Thor’s cock. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he began bouncing her up and down, his hands firmly grasping the soft skin of her hips. Low grunts escaped Thor’s lips as he picked up the pace, eager for release after the slow build-up. Nic felt the urgency emanating from her lover and used her loose grip to bounce herself faster and faster up and down on his cock. Then, without warning, she lowered her head and sank her sharp teeth into his shoulder. He let out a roar, his eyes glowing with power as he re-doubled his efforts, Nic’s teeth still firmly planted in his shoulder. Moments later he stopped bouncing, the sound of skin slapping now replaced with a guttural moan from the god as he climaxed. Nic moaned into his shoulder, slowly releasing her grip as she felt his warm load filling her up.

After a few seconds to get their breath back they collapsed sideways onto the bed. Thor spooning Nic from behind as they continued to lay naked, both simply grateful for the company of the other as they came down from their post-orgasm high. Thor kissed her multiple times on the shoulder, pulling her closer. She wriggled in next to him, enjoying the sensation of their bare skin touching.

Several hours later they could both be found in the throne room of Asgard, surrounded by golden pillars. They were alone save for the guards who stood sentry at the entrance, awaiting the attendees of various politicians and other so-called important people. Thor was clad in his finest armour, Mjolnir resting on the right arm of the throne. Nic on the other hand was once again adorned with a beautiful silk navy dress lined with silver roses, and knelt by the god’s feet, her head resting in his lap.

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High Sophomore Year Ep 14

Brennan Says It’s My Turn With The Daddy Issues

So we’re in hell--literally, not emotionally (at least for the moment). We being Fig, Riz, Gilear, the Hangman, and the blood-imp valet that Fig created last week who is ostensibly named Wretchrot but also picks up the nickname Baby this episode because of shenanigans. Wretchrot brings them all to where they’ll be staying, says a bunch of wild stuff in his weird Rita Repulsa voice, and drinks Fig’s blood which is what he is made of. Riz is bullied by the Hangman and misses the other half of his Nerd Squad. 

Anyway, Wretchrot takes the group on a little tour of Gorthalax’s stuff starting with the library which includes books that steal souls and also legal texts (redundant). Fig looks for a book on devil dating advice while Riz looks for something on the Hellish legal system On a 17, Fig finds a Manual for Succubi and Incubi about extracting souls via the penis. More helpfully, on a 16, Riz finds out that coups are baked into the ruling system of hell and killing someone to ascend to the throne is pretty par for the course. 

Next up is the hall of treasures where there are suits of armor themed to the 7 deadly sins including kinky, gimp, Lust armor they briefly consider equipping either Gilear or Kristen with (Ally breaks at that). There are also these Venitian style masks through which the people who failed to kill Gorthalax to take his place are forced to watch him do his thing. 

They pass through a hall of mirrors which they realize is a kind of security system as it shows things as they really are. Wretchrot appears in the mirror as a drop of Fig’s blood. The Hangman appears as a huge puppy!!!! (OK, a hellhound but all canines are puppies). Riz holds up the photo of Kalina to the mirror and, in the mirror, can’t see her in the photo. However, he does she her in the mirror itself. She waves at him and then appears “in person”.  Fig doesn’t know this is going on and asks Riz if he’s emotionally OK with the fact that they just whip out the photo of his dead dad on the regular. Riz says it’s fine but he quickly becomes less fine when Kalina asks if he'd like to see his dad. He starts to answer her out loud but she tells him that, by talking out loud, he’s tipped off Fig potentially so he should lose her and then meet her alone. The Hangman guards everyone while Riz and Fig split up, to find stuff to test in front of the mirror. Well, that’s the stated plan anyway.

Back in Arborly, Adaine is getting to check an item off of her Teen Girl Life Experiences checklist: Spilling Tea About Your Friend’s New GF. She gleefully does the whole, “I can’t tell you but I’ll tell you if you guess right,” routine before outright confirming that while crustacean shenanigans were happening in the house Fig and Ayda were sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G! Everyone in the group goes feral over the news, especially the Gay Squad. She vaguely recalls that Ayda also told her some information about a rune or something but everyone agrees that she retained the most important information. 

They decide to call Aguefort about their coins and the rune (Kristen wisely having all the infected people leave the room). Aguefort tells them that the coins that they have comprise Kalvaxus’s hoard but not his original hoard as it has been spent and invested and put into the economy. Classic Ship of Theseus problem (ie: If you have a ship and you start replacing damaged parts of it, by the time you've replaced all the parts, is it even the same ship?). He also reminds them that spending the gold as quickly as possible is a good idea to avoid the dragon madness curse which is on all dragon gold (a weak but very hard to break curse). That prompts Adaine to describe the rune she discovered to him and he tells her basically the same stuff Ayda did last episode. She wonders if dragon madness could be the larger, static curse under which the trojan horse curse (the spellbook) is hiding. Gorgug wants to give all of the gold away and Fabian is not about that life at all.

Back in hell (literally and emotionally now) Riz prepares to meet Kalina. With a 25 Investigation, he finds a sliver of mirror that he can bring with him to keep from being tricked. He’s also mindful of being paralyzed while he’s with Kalina at the edge of a hell cliff so he anchors himself with a rope tied around his waist. Kalina is her usual aloof, darkly charming self when they speak and Riz is pretty flustered, asking if she was his dad’s familiar (no). Kalina says that Riz didn’t really know his dad and the question he isn’t asking but should be is how did his dad meet her in the first place.

She takes him to a little secret passageway which she says goes to a liminal place where he can see between the levels. She gives him the help action to get a good look (which makes Murph extremely nervous) but he only gets an 11 which means all that he sees is a cold, white light coming from the opening. He tries to use his mirror to look inside but on a 13 dex save, his footing is shaky and some rocks fall down the side of the cliff (he’s fine). Kalina says that he’s gonna have to man up and walk down the tunnel if he wants to see what’s going on. She fully reveals that she’s incorporeal and can’t actually touch him to mess with him if that helps at all. 

Riz is clearly struggling with the choice but he ultimately decides that he can’t pass up this chance and that he can trust Fig to rescue him if things go south. He leaves her a note and then steps through. Within the tunnel, he can feel things watching him and hear a chittering that’s weirdly somehow coming from him. In front of him is a smoky room lit by a cone of light--think interrogation room in an old detective show. In a chair, covered in blood and shit and tattered clothes is Pok Gukgak, gagged and chained. Riz reaches for him but, as he tries to step forward, he reaches the end of his rope. Someone unseen splashes Pok with water and tells him to “confess” and “tell us what you know.” Riz pulls out his gun--his dad’s gun--to shoot out the light. As he does, a thought comes unbidden: You know what the kind thing to do with that gun would be. That shakes Riz so he lowers the gun and starts to untie himself. He’s stopped by Kalina (speaking in his mind) who tells him that if he steps in the light, he’ll be on another level of hell in the Iron City of Dis for real. Not just looking in. Riz pulls out his mirror shard and confirms that it really is his dad in there being tortured. He leaves the tunnel.

Kalina says that she knows Riz is all hopped up on doing his quest and stopping the Nightmare King but if he just stops, if they all stop, none of his friends will have to die and, bonus, maybe there will be a little rescue mission for his dad in it for him. Riz wants to know if Pok knew what her true nature was and he seems to think he cheated on his mom with her (“I know what happened between you two. I can do the math.” Which seems logistically improbable but OK). She reminds him that Pok was a spy which means it’s naive to think that every thing he did was good and taunts him about his clue hound nature before vanishing.  

Riz meets up back with Gilear and Fig and he spills about everything. Gilear wants Riz to have lunch and drink some water before he does anything rash. Fig says that they don’t need Kalina to rescue Pok. They know crazy-person Bill Seacaster who’s also in hell. She lights a beacon to help him find them (if you remember, the Hangman has been attempting to contact him for Fabian). One thing I didn’t mention before is that Fig brought up the idea of temporarily installing herself as the ruler of Gorthalax's section of hell so she’d be a powerful enough devil (or devil-adjacent entity) to get them into Sylvere. Wretchrot said it was probably a no-go since she’s half mortal but, now, on a 29 Riz re-reads his legal book and realizes that Fig wouldn’t actually have to kill Gorthalax to take his place, she just needs to defeat him, which she technically has by putting him in a gem and they put that together almost before Brennan is done narrating. They have a new plan.

The other Bad Kids are discussing what Arianwyn is up to and Gorgug suggests that maybe she’s not actually working with Kalina. Maybe she’s playing along but actually has ulterior motives. Kristen looks at Arianwyn’s notes and on a 24 “Empath Roll” (Brennan converts this Ally-ism to an Insight check) sees that at a certain point, Arianwyn started making leaps in her research that were too lucky and suggest someone was helping her--possibly the entity she was researching. Adaine thinks about calling her mom using Sending or her new Sinod of Spire spell but Ayda calls Adaine and asks if she can come over. Of course she can. She comes with her recently summoned tropical fish familiar in a bubble of water--it has the very Albus Severus name of “Garthy and Adaine the Fish” which Adaine is thrilled about but also suggests shortening to GAF (and also considering reconstituting it into a cuddlier form--though the image of her dumping Boggy into GAF’s bubble is super adorable). Meanwhile, Kristen is thrilled to welcome her to “the family” because being gay is the same as visiting an Olive Garden (this is a shirt now because Ally said it which is too much power to give to Ally). Ayda kinda sucks some of the fun out of teasing her about her relationship with Fig by being extremely forthright about it but Kristen and Adaine brighten at the thought that Fig will be a lot more fun to tease. 

But, back to business. Ayda has not slept because she’s been working on getting to Fig. The whole group is like, “Bitch, are you OK?” and give her an ice cream sandwich which is proper Good Friend Protocol if you have them on hand I think. Ayda is super worried about Fig and is just about ready to unmake everything standing between them (Normal lesbian move according to Kristen). They talk her down for the moment in favor of sending Fig a message: Fig you sneaky bitch. Ayda’s here. She wants to invade hell. You good? PS: OOOOOOOOOOOH. PPS: Ask Kalvaxus about dragon madness. Fig completely misses the fact that they know what’s going on with Ayda (you’d think they’d be more in sync which each others’ texting shorthand) and sends back a message saying she hopes they have fun with her but, “not too much fun,” and also that she, “is king” with no further explanation. Wild. 

Ayda, who is still super keyed up to get Fig, thinks she can figure out the Planeshift spell but she needs more time to work on the spell which she could get...if they steal her dad’s time stopping pocketwatch. Considering they watched Aguefort grab the sun out of the sky the other day, they’re not super down to have a possibly adverse encounter with the man but they hear her out. While they do that, Gorgug takes his now working phone and just straight up calls the guy, explaining the situation (including Ayda’s involvement) and asking to borrow the watch. Aguefort is a little taken aback by the fact that Ayda would want any kind of contact with him at all because about 300 years back, she told him to never contact her again and that she would leave notes to her future self detailing why, which is why he hasn’t really been in her life. He lets him borrow the watch for a week (after which time it will return to him) and asks him to tell Ayda what they talked about, leaving the door open for a possible future relationship between them. When Gorgug returns with the watch and the news, Ayda breaks a little and reveals she didn’t even know she was that old. Presumably because her notes start about 150 years ago with an apology that her past self wanted a fresh start and destroyed the last several batches of notes. She hates herself for doing that and Kristen gently tries to get her to cool it with the negative self talk. Then, they hit the button on the watch and they have a week to work. 

The Wizards work on Planeshift. Fabian and Kristen go to the shrine and Kristen--mirroring her vision from episode 1--sits down to draw the unknown goddess from the mural. Her Spirit Guardians emerge and start to kinda deride her for the sincerity of her action. She in turn decides that she’s done with this wishy-washy “above it all” attitude and dismisses her Spirit Guardians for good (making her, as far as I can tell, the only cleric in Solace with a 100% turnover rate on her Spirit Guardians). She finishes the picture and it feels somehow significant, to her and to Tracker too (who can look at it without wolf-raging out). Gorgug uses the time to “get smarter” which bumps his score from an 8 to a 9 (which has no mechanical implications). Ayda is also working on a side project but she’s keeping it a secret from Adaine. 

In hell, the tribunal is called back in session. Fig comes in ready to claim her hell passport and the throne along with it. On a big ol’ 30 persuasion check--and because the law is on her side--Vrath is reluctantly convinced to confer upon Fig the title of arch-devil (via a full lip kiss which is some Poison Ivy bs) The new title comes with an upside pentagram mark on her forehead, full fire immunity (very convenient considering her new constantly on fire gf), and resistance to poison. However, Vraz is about to force the Hangman to stay in hell due to a legal technicality when who walks in but BILL FORKING SEACASTER, who invokes the law of the blade and immediately starts stabbing their way out of there and hustles the group to his ship (Goldenhoard’s reshaped corpse) which was indirectly named by Fig we learned after the thing that would annoy him the most--The Goldenrod.

Bill gives Fig (who is feeling iffy about her archdevil decision) a pep talk before fully signing up for the rescue mission of the dad of his son’s BFF. We also learn that Alastair Ash is interning on Bill’s ship! He’s pretty happy to see Fig and Riz but if he sees Fabian he’s fully gonna kill him. Right around now, the Bad Kids not in hell remember they can talk to the group via the Hangman and check in since the week of stopped time is up. The Hangman is like, “YOU NEED TO COME HELP US RIGHT AWAY!” They (everyone but the HangVan) Planeshift onto the deck of the Goldenrod which is being targeted by monsters and devils commanded by Vraz. Alastair makes good on his threat and starts trying to shank Fabian immediately (which Bill is hilariously blase about). Ayda opens up a portal to the sea and tries to flood Hell from the top down but Fig stops her, saying that they need to get to the second level to save Pok which seems like it will be quite a task with all the monsters Vraz is throwing at them. Luckily, Bill has money for days (and that money is somehow worth something in hell) and has a whole fleet to back them up for our big Hell Pirate Battle next episode! 

Detention

Gorgug for Bad Gossip Etiquette 

Look, obviously Kalina was the worst person in this episode. Like, duh. But, also, it feels like cheating to punish the Vader of the series for doing something bad. Like, yeah! That’s what she’s supposed to be doing!

So, instead, today’s dubious honor goes to Gorgug for the much less damning but more relatable sin of making his girlfriend aware of tea but not spilling it. Say it all or say nothing! 

Honor Roll

Gorgug for Being More Insightful Than His 8 9 Int Would Suggest

Back to back double awards.

Wisdom is not the same as Intelligence and I actually have no idea what Gorgug’s Wisdom score is on paper but he showed a lot of in this episode.

I think he’s been the first person to suggest that whatever’s going on with Arianwyn might not be as cut and dry as it seems and then, of course, he decided to, instead of trying to Ocean’s 11 Aguefort to just slip out and have a quick heart to heart with him. One that affects him surprisingly deeply. And him bringing up his own experiences with no knowing who his birth dad was was just the chef’s kiss on top of it all.

I don’t think Brennan actually intended them to Oceans 11 Aguefort because that would be crazy, but Gorgug is the one who stepped up to solve the problem for the group with a little compassion and I think that more than earns him the spot.     

Random Thoughts

Trailer for Season 5 is dropping Thursday so get hyped! 

“Are you looking for the Teen Zone of the bottomless pit?”

“The fief of this dom.”

“You’re a little nerd. Tell the cool girl what you know.”

“If I had new parts, where would they go?”

I love Fabian’s confident assertion that Ayda would “love shrimp river”.

Line of the night goes to Ragh for, “Frankly, bringing up the rune in this context is homophobic.” And Adaine’s followup of, “I apologize. As an ally, I’m always learning,” was also great.

I love that the girls instantly understand Fig’s earlier hot tub comment with the new context but the boys are still clueless. 

Watching Emily and Murph have their own little side adventure was so great. They are so fun together and they were clearly having a blast.

I wonder if Gorthalax can tell than Fig just got his title. Either via the title itself or his patron status.

Fig bringing up Riz’s dad to be like, “Are you OK?” caught me so off guard and it seems like it caught Riz off guard too. I hadn’t really thought about it but the fact that Fig had is just another example of her being extremely bighearted and doing a bad job of hiding it. 

Emily’s impotent “rage” as all the party members loudly gossiped about her and Ayda and she couldn’t do anything about it because she wasn’t in the scene was *golden*. 

Kalina leaves Riz so he can watch his dad but, if you think about it, that’s all placebo because she couldn’t do anything to him whether she’s appearing to him or not and she can watch through his eyes regardless anyway so it’s just like, “Do you want me to be visibly watching you or invisibly watching you?” 

Does Kalina have, like, a range? Like, if she can literally just see out of the eyes of people that she’s infected, that limits her to a certain cone of vision and range of movement. But it seems like she can appear to a person and move independently around them to some degree, see things they can’t, point things out, and move away from them. How far away? How independent can she be? What are the logistics here?

Also, on the topic of logistics, it seems extremely hard to know someone for as long as Pok knew Kalina and not realize they’re non-corporeal. Like, even if you’re not a touchy person, eventually you’re gonna bump into them (or, in this case, not bump into them).

Man, the dice really hated Murph this week and, honestly, good. His scenes, imo, work so much better if he doesn’t get to Ally his way out of them with a Nat 20. Him being toyed with by Kalina and unsure and lost is the more interesting version of this sequence of events. 

I feel like he made some big swings and misses this ep though. Like, asking if she was Pok’s familiar? Why would that have been a thing? I’m surprised he didn’t ask if he was the goddess’s familiar--though I guess they might not want to let on how much they know but bringing up the concept that she’s anyone’s familliar I think is kinda of giving the game away.

“I have a hard time making conversation with my friends, let alone you” Riiiiiiiiiiz.

Kalina brought up Kristen to Riz specifically, which I find interesting. (She also said that Kristen used to worship Sol which isn’t strictly true, she worshiped Helio, but same family and that was likely just a slip of the tongue from Brennan. Just wanted to point it out). 

Who does Kalina even work for? Like, it seems like she’s working with the Nightmare King but if she’s the mystery goddess’s familiar like we all think then that’s weird because it doesn’t seem like the NK and mystery goddess are together. Like, a part of me is just dumping everyone antagonistic to the Bad Kids into the same “Bad” bucket in my head but there’s no way all of these people have totally aligned goals. 

“Dragon madness 69”

It’s brought up again in this episode that some of Arianwyn’s research was requisitioned by Pok earlier which I want to ascribe significance to but I’m not in a theorizing headspace right now so I’ll just point it out for anyone who does want to play Gukgak.

I’ve been kinda wondering about the logistics of Aguefort and Ayda and how old that dude is but I totally forgot Chronoancy was a factor which I guess indirectly answers any and all questions about that. It also adds some dimension to his character that time travel is a thing that kinda makes you feel unmoored from time, which I think goes some way (though not all of the way) in explaining why he’s so feral. And, speaking of Aguefort insanity, he was also at the party Zelda was at last episode in the form of an owl as the beer pong mascot. Which Gorgug has Thoughts about. 

I really really want Adaine to talk to her mom in the Synod of Spires. Have you guys realized that, for as much of a driving force Arianwyn’s been this season, she’s had almost no dialogue? She has talked I think 3 times total in all of FH: During Adaine’s intro, Apologizing to her when Aelwen was arrested, and the Message Adaine found from her last episode. That’s it. We know almost nothing about her. What is her deal? Also, Siobhan just always kills during all of her one-on-one scenes and I’m biased.  

Love the return of the Bad Kids being unable to make a phone call and stealing the phone from each other to tag in with their own nonsense. 

Wild that Gorgug was able to get through to Aguefort since he has a history of pissing that dude off by saying the wrong (well, “wrong”) thing.

Shoutout to Gilear for being the Designated Dad of the Hell Trip and making sure the kids were eating and stuff. That was a very endearing moment. 

Also, while we’re on the topic of Gilear, he also cleared up that Sandra-Lynn never seriously propositioned him in an irresponsible, “Let me give you a Magic STD” kinda way which was something I’d been thinking about so I’m glad he said something (though the kids kinda aren’t even though I think we’re way past the point of TMI here).  

“Hiss at her litigator.”

Riz, who Fig is Looking to be the Voice of Reason re: Her Arch-Devil Upgrade: This is super rad.

I’m very curious about whether Brennan fully planned for Fig to decide to take Gorthalax’s place because, on the one hand, my brain didn’t go there at all but, on the other, getting Emily Axford to install someone--possibly herself--into a position of power is like getting Siobhan Thompson to steal a book I feel.

Fig Upon Being Told That Ayda Told Everyone About Them: Fuck.   

I feel like Kristen is gonna wish she had her big moment of emotional catharsis AFTER this big hell pirate fight and not before when she can’t summon her Spirit Guardians. 

Man, we haven’t gotten a big, enthusiastic, “Papa!” from Fabian in a while have we? 

No crits in either direction this episode which is wild considering Fig got a THIRTY at one point.

[eirian-houpe]

The Library Beneath the Clock Tower - Chapter 45

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Belle/Gaston (Once Upon a Time)

Characters: Belle (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Widow Lucas | Granny, Grumpy | Leroy, Maurice | Moe French, Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Merida (Once Upon a Time), Jiminy Cricket | Archie Hopper, Gaston (Once Upon a Time), Le Fou, Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Prince Charming | David Nolan, Gus | Billy, Huntsman | Sheriff Graham, Mother Trude (Fairytale Character)

Additional Tags: Bookshop On the Corner, slightly AU, Cursed Storybrooke (Once Upon a Time), Alternate Universe - In Storybrooke | Cursed (Once Upon a Time), Eventual Smut

Summary: Storybrooke has no library, and neither does Belle, not since the library where she worked in Boston discovered her past as an inpatient at a mental hospital. Taking her future into her own hands, Belle travels to Storybrooke where her intention is to open up the town library, but all does not go according to her plan. Obstacles and false starts, and diversion along very wrong pathways interrupt her journey toward fulfilling her dream, as well as taking her rightful place and becoming a part of the Storybrooke community.

Winner of the 2020 Espenson Award, Best Book AU.

Read previous chapters on AO3

Chapter 45 - The Graces

Promising to return as soon as she could, and eliciting a promise from Paige that she would help when she did return, Belle retraced her steps to the library, seething inside that no one in the so-called tight-knit community had reached out to help the Graces before now; that no one had even seemed to know and so they had fallen through the cracks. She couldn’t help but find Missus Trude guilty for being in some way complicit, and wondered just how far her influence went. What would she have to gain from keeping them as they were - power over them in some way? But to what end?

She was so lost in her thoughts and trying to make sense of how she might best help in the long term and not just for now that she almost literally ran into Mister Gold. Not looking where she was going, and trying to find the apartment key on her key-chain, she stopped barely short of colliding with his backside as he was bent over slightly, working on something at the lower part of the door.

Belle yelped, and dropped her key-chain, which Mister Gold retrieved for her before straightening up and turning to face her.

“Miss Marchland,” he greeted her, apparently calmly. “I was just working on the door. Seems a little attention was necessary to ensure it closes properly.”

“Well…” Belle took a deeper breath, composing herself, before she said, “Thank you, Mister Gold. I appreciate it.”

“Well, we can’t have just anyone walking up to the apartment without invitation, now, can we?” he said, more a statement than a question, with a raised eyebrow in her direction.

“No, indeed,” she answered, and before she could stop herself, her answer came with an implicit reference to the previous evening, when he had walked up on her as she had been trying on Maggie’s dress. “There’s no telling in what state they might discover me.”

She blushed as she realized what she’d said, but Gold, as gentlemanly as ever, said nothing but, “Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair before too long.”

Without warning, his mild mannered reasonableness, and the way he seemed absolutely unaffected by what happened between them at the Miner’s Day festival more than irritated her, and that, coupled with the memory of his behavior at the shop on the occasion she had spoken of her concern for Paige, made her speak first and consider the consequences of what she had said later.

“What didn’t you tell me what was happening with Paige!” she snapped.

He frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“Paige… Grace,” she clarified, and dismissed his odd reaction to the way she spoke the girl’s surname. “The girl that helps me in the library?”

“Yes, I know the girl to whom you refer,” he said. “However, I fail to see what I should have told yo—”

“Oh, drop it, Gold!” she scoffed. “You knew, and you said nothing. That poor girl has been… maid and… nurse, and… who knows what else besides. I could have done something, could have helped. Instead you pretended there was nothing wrong, and let it all continue.  And for what!”

“Be… very careful, Miss Marchland,” Gold warned, his voice low and dangerous in a way that vibrated through the whole of her and sparked an ache low down and in an entirely inappropriate way, given the topic of their disagreement. “You know very little of which you speak, and none of the harm your interference could—”

“Interference?” Belle’s voice was high in pitch and with incredulity. “Only you could think of offering help as interference. You are unbelievable, you know that?”

“No, Miss Marchland,” he said, exaggerated patience in his voice that only served to further irritate her. “I am a man that simply knows how, and when to best take sides.”

“Take sides?” she threw up her hands along with the tone of her voice, “This is a child’s life we’re talking about, not some meaningless argument about… parking restrictions on Main Street.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “Which is exactly why I have acted as I have.”

“Done nothing, you mean,” she spat. “At least you didn’t try to deny you knew what’s going on, at least I’ll give you that.” She huffed as he said nothing, and then she began to step forward, to push past him as she added curtly, “Excuse me, I have cleaning to do.”

He caught her by the elbow as she did, and stepping closer, momentarily held her in place against the open door.

“Everything comes with a price, Miss Marchland,” he half growled, half purred almost into her ear. “So you need to be very sure how much you’re willing to pay.”

She fell into the intensity of his gaze and was held there for several moments. The words were familiar to her somehow, and yet were not quite right, and for a second time, his nearness and his quiet menace sent a thrill of danger to warm her core. Then as angry at herself for allowing such feeling to cloud her intention to do what she knew was right, as she was at him for saying nothing when first she came to him with her concerns, she snatched her arm from his grasp, pushed past him and up the stairs to gather her cleaning supplies.

As foolish as it made her feel, Belle left through the library so as to avoid another confrontation with Mister Gold, and quickly made her way back to Paige’s house. Paige was waiting by the door when she returned, almost wringing her hands with such a stricken look on her face that Belle wanted nothing more than to wrap her in a tight hug and never let go, instead of the gentle embrace she gave her.

“All right then,” she said quietly as she released Paige and stepped back a little bit. “Let’s get started, shall we?” She held out a pair of rubber gloves and a large trash bag in the girl’s direction and instructed her to pick up all the papers and the mail from the hallway and gather the trash from any other room in the house where things had gotten away from her, and with a smile added, “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

Belle went to work with an almost practiced air, beginning with the dishes that were piled in the sink and on the counter top, setting them to drain while she cleaned the stove-top, kitchen table and the cupboard doors. Next she dried and put away the now clean crockery and cutlery, making space for her to tackle the job of cleaning out the refrigerator. She was surprised to find some unspoiled food remaining in the fridge, but there were also plates of covered, left over food, remnants of previous meals, that were covered in plastic wrap and were of highly dubious quality. She decided it was best to dispose of it all, and wash the plates thoroughly before returning her attention to the fridge itself, and cleaned and organized everything within.

Next, she swept and dusted, and mopped, spending a good deal of time inside the pantry, to make sure that nothing inside was spoiled, but it contained only non perishable goods; tins of soup, and beans, and airtight containers of pasta and rice.

When Paige came in to tell her she had finished with her assigned task, Belle gave her a duster, and a damp cloth, and told her to go around the downstairs rooms to clean and dust all the surfaces, and in the meanwhile, she swept and mopped the hallway, and scrubbed the bathroom until everything was almost shining.

She had no idea how long the two of them worked together to clean the house but as late afternoon began to turn toward evening, there remained only one room. Her mother’s bedroom.

“Why don’t you run up to Granny’s and get a tub of her soup and some grilled cheese sandwiches? There’s money in my wallet,” she suggested to Paige, as she searched in the linen closet and found clean sheets and blankets, and some clean towels for the bathroom. Paige seemed relieved at the suggestion, and Belle ruffled her hair a little and gave her a gentle push toward the kitchen, where she’d left her purse.

She watched after her for a moment before she went and knocked on the door.

“I feel so bad that you’ve both been working so hard while I do nothing but lie here,” Missus Grace said, by way of greeting.

Belle smiled and shook her head. “No need. It’s my pleasure to help,” she said.

She set the new bedclothes down on the trunk at the foot of the bed, and then, for just a moment perched on the edge of the chair. “Missus Grace,” she began, but the woman waved a trembling hand in her direction.

“Please, call me Chloe,” she said. “I don’t think we need to be so formal after all of this.”

“Then you must call me Belle,” she said, and Chloe smiled, but it was a sad kind of smile.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough,” Chloe said and then more sadly, “I suppose you’re going to have to involve the authorities now… it’s just that Paige is so worried, and I’m all she has and—”

She stopped as Belle reached out and took her hand.

“Missus Grace… Chloe,” she said correcting herself at once. “It would be better, yes, both for you and for Paige if Social Services knew what you were going through, but it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re going to swoop in, and take either of you away from each other. These days they try to keep people together, and teach you to be a little bit self reliant, provide help for the things you can’t do for yourself, and find you medical treatment, which might make things easier for you to do some of the things you can’t right now, because of your illness.”

Chloe seemed to be truly listening to Belle’s explanation, then with a sigh said, “I only want what’s best for Paige.”

“I know that,” Belle said. “That’s why I’m willing to help as best as I can until you can make the best decisions for yourself and not have others tell you what to do all the time.” She paused for only a moment before she said, “I dare say that neighbor of yours has been filling Paige’s head with all kinds of horror stories about what would happen if anyone found out.”

“Not just Paige,” Chloe said, with a good deal of shame in her voice.

Belle tried not to let her expression show just what she thought of that, or now of the woman in question. Instead, in an attempt to lighten the conversation, not to mention to facilitate being able to change the woman’s bedclothes, she said, “How about I go and run you a nice warm bath? I can help you into the bathroom, and let you soak for a while, then if you like, I’ll come and wash your hair for you.”

“You’d… you’d do that?” Chloe asked, and Belle heard the way her voice choked as she spoke.

“Of course,” she said. “I want you to be comfortable and happy as well as Paige.”

She had to blink away her own tears as Chloe’s eyes filled with gratitude for her concern and her compassion. She squeezed the other woman’s hand before getting up from the chair and going to run the bath, putting in bath salts which she hoped would help to soothe her. Not too long afterwards, she had settled Chloe into the tub and went back into the bedroom to strip the bed, turn the mattress and put on the clean bedclothes and blankets.

By the time Paige returned with the food, Belle had settled Chloe into an oversized arm chair, which she had brought in from the living area, propped cushions around her, and covered her knees with a blanket to keep her comfortable. She had drawn the small table closer to Missus Grace’s chair, and brought in another dining chair from the kitchen, like the one that was already in the room, so that the three of them could share the meal, and some good, wholesome, and companionable conversation.

It was nearing dark by the time Belle left, admonishing Paige to make sure that she went to her own bed that night, and not to drift in slumber in a chair in her mother’s room.

“Your mother will be fine,” she said, “so I want you to promise me that you will sleep. You won’t be able to help anyone if you’re too tired to think.”

Instead of a promise, Paige threw her arms around Belle and held her tightly. “I wish I’d trusted you better; told you sooner,” she said.

“So do I,” Belle murmured, placing a tender kiss on the top of her head, “but I know now, and I’m going to help make sure that everything works out, and will be all right.” Paige sighed, still holding tightly to Belle, and her heart lurched as she thought she heard Paige whisper, “I wish Papa were here.” There was little she could say to that, and so instead she simply gave the girl another squeeze.

Bone weary and heart sore, Belle made her way homeward to take a hot, deep bubble bath of her own, taking the long way around so that she could first clear her head. That path took her past Gold’s shop, and in the gathering night she could see the light spilling out onto the sidewalk from within. She wasn’t all that surprised to see it, as she knew Gold often kept late hours, but as she drew level with the pawn shop, and glanced in through the window, she was surprised to see Jefferson’s tall frame standing toe to toe with Gold. She slowed her steps, and eventually halted altogether, and watched the two of them as they seemed locked into what looked to be a somewhat heated discussion. Fingers poked and pointed, arms flew in grand gestures, and she could almost feel the atmosphere seeping out through the brick and glass of the shop front.

The sign on the door read, ‘closed’ but she couldn’t help but wonder if she should go inside and try to mitigate whatever had come between two whom she knew to be as close as Jefferson and Gold. Before she could act upon her thought, Jefferson turned and stormed toward, and then through the door, and she had to almost jump aside as he ploughed on without pause.

“Jefferson…!” she called after him, but he did not even appear to have heard her, let alone to react to the sound of his name.

[nedeljkovicsaysno]

the blood of both is my limbo (two)

(aka the Angel!Robbe/Demon!Sander AU that no one asked for)

Summary: Robbe spends his entire human life in total disbelief of the whole heaven-hell-religion thing. Luckily for him, it turns out that being a genuinely kind and selfless agnostic is enough to grant him Angel status in the afterlife. Meanwhile, a series of horrific events forces Sander to make some reckless choices with unfortunate consequences…but when he’s turned into a Demon, he realizes that what happens after death is nothing like the story the church tells. AKA Skam Afterlife, because in this parallel universe Isak and Even meet in Purgatory and have to overcome the slight problem that one’s an angel and one’s a demon.

Part One

Also posted on the Archive

Fight Night’s heating up - in more ways than one.

“Hey! Sander!”

Sander’s trance was momentarily shattered; he turned his head and there beside him was Noor, Britt’s bruja friend. She was tiny but she was terrifying; every part of her looked like it had teeth. Sander thought that this was maybe not too far from the truth. He greeted her with that fiendish slice of a half smile, leaned down so they could kiss at the air beside each other’s cheeks.

“What’s up, Noor.”

“Oh, you know. Just spent the day inventing a counter-hex from scratch,” said Noor, all-suffering as she crossed her yellow eyes. “Moyo pissed some warlock off when he kept beating him at cards the other night, so the asshole cursed him. He’s been walking around with a thundercloud over his head for a day and a half. Literally. Soaked the bed through twice.”

Sander laughed out loud, but there was a piece of his mind still idly circling around the peculiar golden haze, attached, curious. “Better than any other reason for him to have soaked the bed.”

“Yes, well,” said Noor, and she smirked. “Annoying nonetheless. Where’s the crew sitting?”

Sander inclined his head to the back left, where he could dimly make out their little booth. “Corner over there. Listen, Noor, will you take this to Senne? I’m gonna go say hi to one of my friends really quick.”

“Of course,” said Noor, accepting the mug he handed her. “See you in a minute?”

“Yes,” said Sander, and he waited until she had turned to wend her graceful way through tables and creatures back to the group before he re-focused his attention back onto the shining mist.

It had moved; it was now closer to the stage, and if Sander squinted he thought he could see shadows moving within the shimmer. Fully concentrated now, he began pacing measuredly towards it, sipping habitually at his drink as he did so; the crowd near the arena was thickening but still that small space remained uninhabited. In his chest Sander could feel the call of it, the siren of power that he could not ignore, and he wanted so badly to know what was within the mist that he forgot about caution. Before he’d even realized what he was doing he was inches from where the air became saturated with glinting medal-gold and he was mesmerized.

“What are you,” he murmured, and as though they were listening to him the thousands and thousands of glitter-particles inside the fog seemed to freeze.

*

Within the refuge of the Shield, Jens seized Robbe’s forearm.

Robbe, who mentally was lightyears away observing the melting pot of dark supernatural beings surrounding them, twisted his head, halfway to speaking before Jens slapped a warm frantic hand over his mouth.

Don’t talk, rang out in his mind. Turn around. Slowly, for hell’s sake.

On an ordinary occasion, Robbe would have scolded Jens for using telepathy, but the urgency in his Elder’s thoughts and the unusual situation within which they found themselves that night gave him pause. He did as Jens asked, suddenly streaked through with adrenaline at the thought of what he might discover, and found himself face-to-face with an extravagant creature with alabaster skin to match his white-blonde hair and violent cardinal-red blood trickling from both eyes.

He was standing directly in front of Robbe and Jens, a concentrated expression on his face, licking absently at the ring spiked through his lower lip. He seemed thoroughly unbothered by the fact that his eyes were bleeding; Robbe had just enough time to wonder if that was an everyday sort of thing for him when Jens was thinking out loud again.

It can see the Shield.

That’s impossible, Robbe thought back, scornful, wondering distractedly why Jens had referred to the being as it and not he. Nothing can see the Shield.

Some things can.

Like what?

Jens looked sideways at him and his face was grave.

Every inhuman creature has an ability, he thought. Opposite creatures often have opposite abilities. So, tell me, little one. What’s the opposite of Shielding?

Sensing, thought Robbe, his brain sprinting, whirring. Maybe Seeing.

Yes, thought Jens, and his grip around Robbe’s wrist tightened. And what are you?

An angel, thought Robbe, and as he looked back at the ethereal being in front of him recognition slammed into him like the car that had ended his human life.

What’s the opposite of an angel?

Robbe swallowed. He had never seen one up close before, but the explanation made perfect sense: bloody eyes, corpse-white skin, black everywhere.

A demon.

*

Sander was half a second from stretching out a hand to twist his fingers through the sunshine air, see if it pushed back like the darkness in hell had shoved at him when he’d first been Changed, but just like that Senne was beside him, towering, calm as he always was, stern.

“What are you doing, Driesen?”

“I found it,” said Sander dreamily, still tranced-out. “I found the thing that I’m Sensing.”

Senne furrowed his brow. “What? Where?”

“There,” said Sander, vaguely, and he pointed. In doing so his fingertip barely brushed the outer perimeter of the mist and static crackled on his skin; all he wanted to do was step forward into it, see if it enveloped him, gilded him, too.

“I don’t see anything,” said Senne, but then he looked again and his expression changed. “Wait. This empty space?”

“It’s not empty,” said Sander. “There’s something there. The air is golden, Senne.”

Senne’s eyes darted from Sander’s eyes to the emptiness in front of them and something slammed down over his face like a sliding door. He grabbed Sander’s shoulder.

“We need to get away from this,” he hissed, “right now.”

In a dimmed sort of way Sander understood that he should hearken to Senne’s tone, his body language, his words, but it was not in his nature to feel fear; he had seen the worst, lived through the darkest of times, and he’d emerged on the other side as a fucking demon. The fact that Senne - a much older and more important demon than he - was expressing distress didn’t do as much as it should have to turn him back, and again he found himself warring the urge to bridge the gap.

Inside the Shield, Jens correctly interpreted Sander’s facial expression and made a decision.

Robbe. Enforce the Shield.

Robbe wrested his gaze from the blonde demon’s face. Enforcement required a brutal amount of strength and one hundred percent of his concentration, something he was not currently willing to give: he wanted nothing more than to study the creature before him, learn him, understand what demon looked like in corporeal form instead of in fantasy. But -

Do it. It’s going to try to reach in. I’ll help you.

Robbe hesitated and

outside the Shield Sander reached forward and

Jens stepped behind Robbe and pressed his torso flush to Robbe’s back and

just as Sander’s hand met the space where the air turned light Robbe pulled from Jens’s strength and with a visceral, audible growl of effort transformed the Shield from mist to steel.

Both Sander and Senne heard the noise he made; Sander’s palm met flat resistance and he recoiled in sharp shock. Senne grabbed him by the collar, yanked him back, and Sander’s stomach went hot with shame and recognition.

“Sander,” growled Senne in his ear, “what in fuck’s sake are you doing? Do you want the wrath of God to come down upon you? Get the fuck back.”

“What - “ Sander’s palm was tingling. “The wrath of - Senne, is that an angel?”

“Yes,” hissed Senne, as he hauled him away. “Yes, you idiot, what did you think a pocket of golden air in Lesser Purgatory would be? Are you hurt?”

“No,” said Sander, but he couldn’t stop looking stupefied over his shoulder back at the obviously marked space. “I’m fine. It didn’t - Senne, it didn’t seem like it was bad.”

“Driesen,” said Senne in total exasperation, “we’re bad. Angels are the literal polar opposite of everything we are. We’re not supposed to touch them. They aren’t for our kind.”

“But why?” Sander was not clear of mind. “Who the fuck says? Isn’t all that stuff about traditional human religion bullshit anyway?”

“Yes,” said Senne, hand clenching at the back of Sander’s neck, silver chains tangling in his fingers, “but that doesn’t change the hierarchy. They are light, we are dark. We protect the low realms, they protect the high. We rule the things that humans consider sin and they rule the things that humans consider virtue. We are not meant to mix with them. They think they’re superior to us.”

He stopped, pushed Sander back against the raised side of the stage, leaned in and licked a droplet of blood from Sander’s cheekbone. It was the one thing he knew to do that would bring Sander back to himself and sure enough his Fledgling’s scarlet eyes went immediately from daydream-distant to smack-awake.

“Senne, I’m sorry,” he said, low. “You’re right. We’re not meant for them.”

“It’s fine,” said Senne. His voice was gentle. “Angels can have quite the effect on someone who’s never seen them before, and for you to be able to Sense a Shield...that’s big stuff, Driesen.”

A luxuriant, lethal smirk cut its slow track across Sander’s mouth. “I have a good teacher.”

“Yeah, well,” said Senne, haughty. He searched Sander’s sharp beautiful face, shoved back against the urge to drink from his Fledgling’s bloodsource again, but Sander read his expression and swiped a teardrop of red from under his eye. Lifted his finger to Senne’s mouth and watched with satisfaction as his Maker sucked his skin clean, sighed raggedly, almost a groan.

“I’ll never understand why you don’t drink from humans more often,” said Sander, dripping with assurance. “Real blood is what does it for you.”

“Animal blood does what it needs to do,” said Senne. His violet eyes were feral. “Come on. Forget angels, okay? You had your introduction, now you need to focus on what’s really important.”

“Like watching you get turned on drinking from me?”

“Fuck yourself,” said Senne, eyes flashing, but it was half amusement. “First Blood is about to happen, and Eurydice is on.”

*

Robbe felt Jens grasp him around the waist, lift him bodily away from the stage into a more protected corner of the club, diving into shadows. He was shivering with the effort it had taken to throw up an Enforcement without proper preparation, teeth gritted hands fisted at his sides, and when Jens slid down against the side wall and pulled Robbe back between his legs he did not resist.

“Hey,” Jens crooned, voice a hot brush of air at Robbe’s ear, “come on, Robbe, you’re fine, I’ve got you. You were a fucking champion, kid. That was incredible.”

It wasn’t often that Jens called him by his first name and it pulled Robbe minimally back to himself; he managed to unclench his fists to clamp them on Jens’s knees, and his Elder slid hands under Robbe’s elbows so he could reach up and scratch through Robbe’s bedlam curls. His arms were so long that even from such an unnatural angle he could reach the crown of Robbe’s head with ease.

“I,” choked Robbe, tripping over the force of his own breath as he tried to re-center, all of him aware of the warmth of Jens’s body crowded against his own, “need a fucking drink.”

“Okay,” said Jens, amused. “I can make us look ordinary enough to pass as vampires or something for a little while if you want a break.”

“The irony of that sentence,” said Robbe, and Jens chuckled.

“Say the word.”

“Give me, like. Five minutes.” Robbe’s entire body felt like a wet towel, wrung for every last drop of water before being draped out to dry. “Enforcements without Charge take everything I’ve got, even with your help.”

“I know,” said Jens, and he sounded guilty. “I should have just Disguised us before we entered the LP so you wouldn’t have had to work so hard. But it’s Drinking Night AND Fight Night in one go and I thought the Shield would be safer.”

“It probably is,” said Robbe, sighing; he let his fluffy head tumble back onto Jens’s shoulder and nestled automatically. “But I mean, fuck it, right? At least two demons already know we’re here. If you Disguise us the whole corporeal mist giveaway disappears, and they have no idea we were even involved with it in the first place. Problem solved.”

“Ordinarily I’d say yeah,” said Jens, “but if that demon can Sense, then my Disguise won’t fully hide you from it. You get close, and it will know.”

Robbe looked back at him. Jens’s face was impossibly close and impossibly magnificent; Robbe could smell the alcohol he’d drunk in Greater Purgatory wafting from his soft, intermittent breath.

“Then I won’t get close.”

*

When Robbe had recharged enough to move Jens pulled them into a bathroom stall to work his magic; Robbe had always loved watching him while he was Casting, and tonight was no different. Jens was an absolute scholar at trickery and concealment, thought-play, stealth; he could be hovering a hairsbreadth from someone’s back and they wouldn’t have an inkling that he was there until he announced himself. Now he stood in front of the mirror and drew fingertip lines across his own face, dulling the shimmer of his skin to matte cream, darkening his hair and sharpening the edges of his wolf teeth until they passed easily as fangs. When he’d completed his own Disguise he performed the same ritual on Robbe, who could have cried with the relief that flooded upon taking his guard down: Shielding, after a while, became overwhelming.

“Next time we come to the LP,” said Robbe as he scrutinized himself in the mirror, “you’re doing this to begin with.”

“To be fair,” said Jens, just before he snapped his fingers and their reflections vanished from the mercurial surface before them. “You didn’t give me a lot of warning.”

When they re-emerged into the club the lights had blackened even further and both the tempo and the volume of the music had increased; the crowd seemed denser than it had moments before, but Robbe deduced that this was probably because they no longer had the luxury of the Shield to afford them a suitable berth. It was strange to realize that they were drawing stares now; even Disguised as vampires, both Robbe and Jens were preternaturally lovely. Jens certainly wielded the power to diminish their appearances, but vanity was his fatal flaw, and he almost never did.

“Beauty isn’t that unusual in our world,” he defended himself, when Robbe laughed at him about it. “Why should I try to hide that? Angels aren’t the only pretty things that exist in the Afterlife.”

Apparently, Robbe thought absently now as they made a space for themselves at the bar, demons could be pretty, too.

He tried not to look around. Attracting extra attention was likely to prove catastrophic, especially if Jens was correct and the blood-eyed demon could still Sense their presence. But it turned out that Robbe didn’t need to worry about unintentionally inviting anyone’s lingering attention – at least not for the time being – because at the exact moment the bored pixie bartender handed Jens and Robbe their drinks, Exitium exploded like an atomic bomb into ruckus noise.

“Here we go,” said Jens, and in the excitement of his tone Robbe could find balance between his insistence that Lesser Purgatory was nothing to write home about and the streak of interest that had belted through his eyes as they’d been discussing it. Robbe’s eyes found the stage; it had been empty not half a second before, but directly in its center now stood a tall, straight-spined man dressed as though he was fully prepared to lead a runway show for nineties-era Versace. His posture was impeccable and his eyes were lined thickly with sharp silver and kohl and he was one of the most luridly fascinating things Robbe had ever seen.

“Is that – ”

“Milan,” said Jens, with some fondness. “He’s half-sylph, half-elf, and he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to Lower Purgatory.”

Onstage, the mesmerizing hybrid creature with the (extremely appropriate) name of an Italian city began to speak.

“I don’t think,” he said, in the tone of someone who fully understood that simply raising the volume of one’s voice was not the best way to command attention, “any of you filthy creatures are ready for this shit.”

And as the responding clamor of the crowd shrieked to a sudden crescendo, Robbe looked sideways at Jens and started to grin.

“It’s been a long time,” said Milan, smirking, clearly enjoying the collective enthrallment of the entire population of Exitium, “a very long time, I think. Since we’ve had Furies participating in Fight Night. But, theydies and gentlethem, hags and trolls, demons and dare I presume angels – ”

Robbe froze but Jens grinned; hissed sideways,

“He has no clue, he’s just being dramatic.”

“ – it’s been an even longer time since any of our lovely serpent-haired sisters have thrown their names into the pool.”

From the way the crowd rocked and screamed in response to his words Robbe understood that this was a gigantic occasion; again he looked to Jens for explanation but his Elder was already utilizing his telepathy to explain.

Gorgon fights are vicious. No one here can die, obviously, but they’re the most brutal of all creatures to participate in Fight Night. Furies are nearly as bad, that’s why it’s so crazy in here tonight, everyone wants a piece of the carnage.

Even you. Robbe was enjoying how much Jens was enjoying himself.

Even me. You picked a good night to force my hand.

Robbe smiled.

So what happens to the losers, then? Since they can’t die?

Jens licked at the new sharpness of his wolf teeth, twisted his mouth before he replied.

“They tap out,” he said out loud. “They get hurt badly, and they go somewhere to lick their wounds until they get a chance for redemption at next Fight Night. And the winner…the winner gets clout.”

Robbe searched his Elder’s face, thinking absently that the status of a Fight Night victory in the LP must equate to something like respect or fear or reverence, but then he stopped thinking at all because everything around them suddenly depleted into quiet and stillness and dark, the entire arena thrumming with ravenous anticipation. It felt like standing at the edge of a sheer cliff with toes pressed over the side and nothing to prevent the fall and Robbe was afire for it. He had no idea what was going to happen but he had never been more ready for anything in his entire existence.

He waited.

And then, when the hush was beginning to become maddeningly loud in the way that only unmitigated silence can manage, from the back corner of the stage where a curtained side entrance separated the patrons from the staff-only area of the club, there arose a steady, insidious hiss.

“Eurydice,” sang Milan, “please step into the light.”

And from out of the darkness emerged something darker.

*

“She’s perfect,” whispered Noor, and Senne and Sander grinned at each other.

Eurydice wasn’t what either one of them would have described as perfect – demons didn’t really believe in the word, used it as a taunt or derogatory term against the Son of God – but she was certainly commanding. One of the tallest Gorgons, her skin was a shade of mottled yellow-green akin to a fresh bruise, a direct clash with the garish coral pink of her pit vipers, and when she curled her upper lip in acknowledgement of the crowd jagged grey teeth showed. For a lesser Gorgon, she was positively terrifying.

“She could win this tournament,” said Senne casually, “if Medusa doesn’t show.”

“No way Raksha would let her fight,” said Noor, dismissing him. “She likes to keep her toys in pristine condition, and Medusa’s not exactly a looker to begin with.”

“Maybe Raksha has a newfound battle-scar kink,” said Sander. He was already nearly finished with his second drink; his close encounter with the unidentified angel had shaken him, and he didn’t know what to do to still his head but to slow his thought process with alcohol. It never worked as well as it had in his human body – demonic systems were designed to flush toxins much more effectively – but it was always enough to blunt the edges.

“I’d kill to see Medusa and Eurydice,” said Britt. “She’s the only lesser Gorgon that would stand a chance against any of the holy trinity. She doesn’t give a fuck.”

“She beat Stheno once,” said Senne, “ages ago. I was there, it was a madhouse. She lost a snake, but Stheno lost two, and the way she was screaming afterward…the stuff of nightmares.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said Sander, his gaze tracking the kaleidoscopic gloom on the other half of the stage. “Nemesis is no pushover.”

And as though he had spoken her into existence she came forth.

Where Eurydice was furious color, constant movement and sound, Nemesis contradicted her in darkness and calm and silence. Wraithlike she strode slow and resolute across the stage, icicle eyes pinned fearless to Eurydice’s countenance, stating intent with every second she did not look away. Sander appreciated her attitude; if he’d have been placing bets that night he’d have staked on her with confidence. Eurydice liked to put on a show but Nemesis was unassuming in her presentation and somehow that felt more to him like victory. He’d never seen her fight, but he’d heard tales of her ruthlessness, and he was ready to witness it for himself.

Milan between them looked fully undaunted.

“My darling, my dear,” he said, casual like he was announcing the contestants of a beauty pageant and not addressing a deity and a Gorgon, “need I remind you of the rules?”

When Nemesis spoke it was like thunder cracking in the clouds. Her eyes never drifted from Eurydice’s face.

“I don’t forget.”

Eurydice jeered; her snakes were going mad for bloodlust.

“Nor I.”

“Excellent,” said Milan, and for the first time all night wicked interest sparked in his wide cunning eyes. “Then I’ll make myself scarce and let you two have at it.”

In a blink he had vanished; Sander spotted him instantly when he reappeared in the rafters above their heads, a smudge of yellow, overseeing restlessly from afar. Full-blooded sylphs commanded powerful magic of their own, but Milan’s mother had been a sea-elf, and with all that combined force channeling through him he was one of the most formidable beings in the LP; Sander could Sense him coming from miles away. Though Milan was not malicious by nature, he was known for ruining those who crossed him; there was a reason he had been appointed as head referee of Fight Night. If things got out of hand, he could regain control of the situation with one snap of his fingers, no droplet of sweat forming on his brow, he might have been a High Deity for the negligible effort he put forth to execute staggering feats of sorcery.

There was a beat in which Eurydice and Nemesis sized each other up; Nemesis might not have had snakes for hair but she did have literal talons and she unsheathed them now, flexing her fingers to shake them out. The pit vipers haloing Eurydice’s head reared cautiously, stretching to full length, glorious in their lethality, and when the first one struck it all became a muddle of vivid color and glinting steel. In immediate, urgent response, the crowd howled with cruel delight; Fight Night elicited the worst from Morals and Immorals both, and the presence of pitiless Gorgons in the melee only served to exacerbate their savagery.

From such a secluded corner it was impossible to see what was going on and without a thought for decorum Sander rose, placed one foot atop the table, hauled himself up so he could separate the whirling dervish of catastrophic movement. Ordinarily Senne would have chided him for standing on furniture – he could be gallingly lawful for a high-tier demon – but he was as absorbed in the battle as the rest of them and either didn’t notice or didn’t give a shit. Through the spotlit air onstage dark green liquid spurted and the crowd gave a surging howl of glee; Nemesis had drawn first blood.

Sander pushed up the sleeves of his jacket, denim dyed dark as the liner smudged around his eyes, gaze roaming unconsciously around the opposite side of the arena. He was looking, he knew, for the golden haze, but to his mild annoyance it was nowhere to be seen. He was wondering abstractedly if the angels had taken their leave from Exitium when the path of his gaze collided with a russet-haired being leaning up against the bar, and Sander forgot to think about anything else at all.

The being – who by all accounts could have passed for an exceptionally flawless member of the human species – was wearing a simple red crewneck and jeans, fringe tumbling sideways into his gigantic eyes as he observed the onstage kerfuffle, hypnotized. Corpse-pale skin and the fangs that spiked under his top lip suggested that he was a vampire, but Sander was excellent at guessing classifications, and that didn’t feel right at all. He was lithe and small and imperious, every bit of him exuding confidence as he sipped from the chalice in his hand, and never before in his existence had Sander been witness to such a striking creature as this. Reflexively he raised an arm to card his fingers back through his hair and as he did the boy’s intense gaze shifted away from the melee straight into Sander’s eyes.

Above them, unseen, unnoticed by everything else in the room, the sky shook itself out. In Sander’s ears a sudden drone whined and his stomach gave a lurching skydive swoop and for half a moment he mislaid the breath that he sometimes could not believe he still had. Again that heightened awareness slashed through him; again, the hair on the back of his neck stood up. The boy’s eyes were the strangest shade of gold, gold, gold, and there was something about him – something that Sander wanted to name but could not. He couldn’t tell if he was Sensing or reacting to the clear heat that kindled between them but he felt like he’d gone up in flames.

Unflinchingly the boy stared, face inscrutable and stone-frozen and brazen, as unafraid as Nemesis regarding Eurydice. His absolute lack of intimidation was not something Sander was accustomed to – as a human, he’d been revered for his beauty; as a mid-tier demon, let alone one who bled constantly from both eyes, his status commanded a great deal of automatic respect. In severe contrast to that fawning, fear-tinged admiration, however, this boy was observing him in the unaffected manner that one might use to watch a train pass by.

The unfamiliar feeling of being rendered ordinary by the nature of someone’s attention riled something long dormant in Sander’s chest. He could not equate the mildness in the boy’s eyes with the length of his gaze or the voltage that screamed hot through Sander’s skin; something was taking place here, but he didn’t have an inkling as to what it was. Onstage black and green blood was spraying with abandon now, both Eurydice and Nemesis roaring with vexed effort, but the combat felt planets away and all of Sander’s concentration was fixed upon bridging the space between himself and this unidentified splendid ethereal creature and proving that there was not a commonplace thing about him.

The boy was the first to cut eye contact, his attention snagged by the being beside him, a statuesque individual of equally astonishing beauty with skin only slightly less pale than his companion’s. Such a milky color looked strange against the sable of his hair and though he, too, showed fangs when he smiled, the errant, persistant thought that neither member of this enigmatic pair were vampires strayed again through Sander’s mind. He forced his focus back to the scuffle onstage; Nemesis had managed to behead one of Eurydice’s pit vipers and it looked as though his initial instinct to crown her as victor had been right.

Senne grabbed Sander’s ankle; apparently he had noticed his Fledgling’s relocation to the tabletop after all. He shouted over the din:

“How’s the view up there?”

Sander grinned down at him.

“Top-notch. Join me?”

And to Sander’s astonishment, Senne did, skipping lithely from the booth to stand beside him, moon-eyed and chill. He’d gone through three goblets of blood that night and this combined with the alcohol had made him loose at the limbs, undone the quick tension that lurked permanently just between his brows. Sander was positively delighted.

“You fucking rulebreaker.”

“This? You should have seen me in my Fledgling days,” said Senne, and when he beamed Sander saw where his teeth had stained cerise with ram-blood. He roped an arm around Sander’s shoulders, knocked the side of his head gently against Sander’s own, and the warmth that flooded the younger demon’s chest was sudden and strong: this was his most cherished being in all the infinite universes. No one had cared for him like Senne since his mother had died, and the knowledge that he was valued again, that someone worried about him, had changed him entirely.

“Yeah? You’d stand on all the tables then, eh?”

“Something like that,” said Senne, chuckling, and Sander was just about to entreat him to elaborate when ahead of them a rough, incensed shriek sliced the air. Nemesis had gone for the jugular again, and Eurydice had just narrowly escaped losing two of her snakes in one fight. The evasive maneuver she’d had to pull to save her viper had forced her off balance and Nemesis used the advantage to slam her to the ground, throw a leg on each side of her waist, pin both of the Eurydice’s hands down with her knees as she crooked an elbow over the thrashing Gorgon’s throat. It was a clever, cunning move: in positioning herself just so, Nemesis had ensured that Eurydice’s snakes couldn’t strike where they needed to.

Eurydice screamed again, blind with rage; she hadn’t lost an opening round of Fight Night in her existence, and the crowd could taste her fury. The talons on Nemesis’s free hand were curling and uncurling and her eyes were locked to the viper coiled dead center of Eurydice’s forehead and it was unmistakable what she was insinuating. Forfeit, or you lose another.

“Here we fucking go,” whispered Sander, and all of him was back in this, entranced, the not-vampire duo momentarily forgotten. Senne’s fingers tightened at the scruff of his neck; the sound of the crowd had reduced to a hornet hum, bated. So quiet was the club that Nemesis’s voice when she spoke sounded loud as a trumpet.

“Say it.”

Eurydice was vibrating with anger; chest heaving, she struggled, but Nemesis was larger and stronger than her in every sense and without the range of her pit vipers Eurydice’s force was heavily diminished.

“Or what.”

“Or I’ll cut them from your head one by one until there’s nothing left on your scalp but bloody stumps,” said Nemesis calmly, and her talons flashed.

Sander and Senne looked at each other, wide-eyed, brows elevated. Below them Britt and Noor had both risen to their feet and were standing with their hands over their mouths, not blinking, barely breathing, snake-charmed. In the rafters the canary blur that was Milan had increased its tempo of pacing and closure felt imminent. Sander said,

“Fuck,”

And his eyes automatically skipped over to search for that faultless enigma of a boy. Both he and his friend were watching the events upon the stage with centered intent, but the second Sander’s gaze came to rest upon his face, the boy glanced back at him as though Sander had shouted a name he didn’t know.

Yet.

“She didn’t come to play,” said Senne seriously, and Sander laughed; when his Elder spoke in modern-isms it never felt natural, but he appreciated Senne’s ability to adapt nonetheless.

Onstage, Eurydice hissed; there were a thousand insults in her eyes but she was nothing if not calculated and Nemesis had proved herself to be ruthless enough and she could not afford to lose another viper. She rolled her thin grey lips together, released a longsuffering sigh, set her teeth.

“Forfeit.”

The noise in the club absolutely detonated; on the opposite side of the stage, Robbe and Jens were howling, grabbing at each other’s hands wrists shoulders, caught up. Robbe’s face was flush with alcohol and Jens was more animated than Robbe had ever seen him and he couldn’t believe that this was the first time his Elder had ever permitted him to come to Lesser Purgatory.

“You asshole,” he yelled, “you’ve been keeping me from this!”

Jens grinned, guilty, letting his thin delicate-boned shoulders rise and fall. “It’s an occasion, Robbe. The LP isn��t like this every day. You have to pick the best times to come, and know when to avoid it at all costs.”

“So the first time you take me here, we not only see a Deity take out a Gorgon in ten minutes flat, but a demon almost discovers us and we have to use Shield Enforcement to hide from it,” said Robbe. He was still beaming and he felt the joy all the way in his fingertips. “You realize you’re creating a monster.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Jens, and he slammed back his drink, amused. “I created you once, I can remake you whenever I please. We have time between the next round, you want another?”

“Jens Stoffels,” said Robbe, dramatic, mock-shocked. “Are you, my unbearably strict Elder, suggesting that I, your reckless Fledgling, participate in a third round of drinks with you tonight?”

(The first time they’d drank together, Robbe had expected to be affected by the alcohol in ways that he had been as a human – lowered inhibition, blurry edges, unsteady feet, word vomit, actual vomit, sudden crushing sadness, lust with a capital L – but instead he’d been filled with an indescribable lightness, a warmth in the hollow of his stomach, closer to what he’d describe as high than drunk. Jens had stopped him after one drink, insisted that he needed to get used to the way alcohol affected the angel infrastructure before he went any further, and Robbe had rolled his eyes at him.

“I know you’re my Elder,” he’d said, “but that doesn’t make you my mother.”

Jens had grinned at him, flicked his nose.

“Nah. But it does make me your wise, all-knowing superior, whose advice you should heed at all times because you are a baby angel and therefore still learning. Come on, little one, let’s go.”

Since then he hadn’t been much more relaxed; Robbe had incalculable amounts to learn about the ways of being an angel, and Drinking Night was never something on which they wasted much time. Jens taught him how to decompress in other ways, like swoop-diving through silk-soft clouds at daybreak, chasing an infinite horizon over seas of the most impossible blue color at sunset. There wasn’t much to decompress about, really; angels didn’t experience anxiety like humans did, because everything adapted a different meaning in the Afterlife. When overarching stressors like money and bills and health and mortality were removed from the larger picture, it was incredible how limitless one could feel.)

Jens huffed, rolled his eyes. “I was going to relax eventually, you know. Besides, you really proved yourself with that nuclear catastrophe, especially if Raphael is going easy on you. My little Fledgling is growing up.”

Robbe smacked him. “You’re insufferable.”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” said Jens, and he cupped Robbe’s chin in one soft long-fingered hand.

In the center of the arena, Milan had already cleared the blood from the floor with one lofty flick of his hand; Eurydice had vanished, limping away in wounded fury, her dead snake clutched in one shaking palm. Nemesis was slightly breathless but her face was saturated with a forbidding sort of satisfaction, teeth bared as she lifted her chin to stare around at the pulsating crowd, shine in her eyes as she listened to them chanting her name. She was the Goddess of Retribution, the personification of vengeance, and by her very nature she was not used to being adored.

Fortunately for her, on Fight Night, any creature that could best a Gorgon was not adored. They were idolized.

Milan held up her clammy hand, arched a perfectly sharp eyebrow, didn’t speak; he knew exactly how to work the crowd, had learned to play them like a dedicated violinist learns to make their instrument sing. Nemesis stood with her chest heaving and her eyes rifling the darkness and then, all of a sudden, she smiled.

As Milan conducted a brief, spirited interview Robbe let Jens lead him by the wrist to the bar, all the while keeping one eye open for the demon who sought him so relentlessly with that glowering red stare. Robbe didn’t think the demon knew what he was, that he was an angel, but his (Robbe refused to refer to him like Jens had, as an it) interest was brash and unmistakable, and it staggered Robbe to understand that he could not detect the nature of said interest. I won’t get close, he’d said to Jens, but he could not fully lie to himself and say that he wasn’t interested, too. When their eyes had clashed across the room Robbe had never felt anything like the ensuing impact; it was disruptive, shattering, a fault line fissure.

His stomach was still hot from it.

At any rate his vigilance was for nothing. The demon was nowhere within his line of sight; the dark man who had been standing beside him on the tabletop had vanished, too, and the crowd packing Exitium to its core was by now so thick that Robbe could not envision chancing upon either of them again. By the time he and Jens were pressed belly-first into the bar, laughing giddily as they called for their drinks, the entire encounter seemed far enough away that it might have been a reverie. He and Jens got pulled helplessly into a fevered First Blood discussion with a group of phantoms; two were in full support of Nemesis’s victory while the third was bemoaning the loss of Eurydice, whose viciousness had heretofore been unparalleled within the lower hierarchies of the draw. Jens was disputing hotly with the third phantom about whether or not Nemesis had violated a crucial rule by pulling at Eurydice’s hair (“that’s bullshit, isn’t it, because it’s not fucking hair for hell’s sake, it’s a snake”) and Robbe was standing back amused, sipping his fresh drink, when to his immediate left he felt movement. The vila standing next to him at the bar had vacated her space and it had instantly been filled by someone new.

A wrench in the air pressure; a coppery smell, it was almost as though Robbe had Warped, but his feet were solid on the ground beneath him and besides this feeling was all too familiar. He thought about what Jens had said, if you get too close, it will know, but there was nothing he could do about that now, was there.

He turned his head and there beside him, draped against the bar at an indolent cocksure angle, silver head tilted as he scrutinized Robbe with loud, loud, loud, interest, stood the red-eyed demon. He was still crying blood and he was still shockingly beautiful and the air in the club was, suddenly, not enough by half.

The demon smiled, an unhurried, wicked thing, and reached over to press his fingerprint onto the rim of Robbe’s glass. Up close he was dark, delicate, all black nails and smudgy eyeliner, thin ring of silver looped through his lower lip. His fingers were adorned heavily with metal and he exuded assurance and he felt like nothing but impossibility.

“Shouldn’t you be drinking blood?”

Then I won’t get too close.

Robbe swallowed.

“Shouldn’t you be bleeding it?”

Surprise flitted briefly across the demon’s chalk-white face; he chuckled and the sound was so low Robbe shouldn’t have heard it but he felt it like a scrape across his lower stomach. Around them the crowd roared in pleased low oblivion like within it nothing at all of interest was happening, like Robbe the Fledgling angel wasn’t talking back to a fucking demon.

“I do,” the demon said, one dark eyebrow bridging. The contrast to his platinum head was stark. “It just doesn’t look like this.”

He gestured to his face, to the evenly painted lines of red that poured steadily from his eyes, and smirked as he pressed in closer. Robbe’s blood was singing but he couldn’t tell if it was meant to warn or lure.

“What color do you bleed, then,” he said, gritting his teeth to stop his voice shaking. “Black?”

“That’s an interesting question with an interesting answer,” said the demon, flighty. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you what color I bleed if you tell me what you really are, not-vampire creature.”

[pompadorkery]

um.. can we get the continuation to the angelo and valak lore machonachos just posted?

:3Sooo~We left off here~With Angelo getting a call from Heaven itself. Before anything can be done about Valak, Angelo figures he’d better go and see what Heaven wants. He doesn’t need more trouble while he’s trying to save his husband, so he wants to take care of it. Plus, duty and all that. He’s a responsible guy. He’s not gonna shirk his duties and obligations. So, he goes on up to Heaven. He’s unsure of what’s in store for him. Did they find out about him and Valak? Are they going to punish him further? Is this the end for him? He’s cautious, finding himself surrounded by the archangels. Gabriel seems a little peeved, but when isn’t he? It’s Michael who speaks. He praises Angelo for his good work in defending when the demons rose up and began attacking humans. He saved countless human lives, and possibly halted a would-be demonic uprising.(Luckily, it seems as if Heaven is unaware as to why the demons attacked. Aka: they don’t know that the demons were trying to capture Angelo whilst Valak and Ahriman were fighting.)While Michael is giving Angelo high regards and praising him, Gabriel just keeps looking angrier and angrier. Finally, at the end of it, Michael offers Angelo something. He offers him his powers back. The full extent. And just to really sweeten the offer, Angelo is allowed to feel the power surging back into him.

He’s surrounded by a glowing light, his wings sprout feathers back to their full size, his hair falls over his shoulders, his eyes lose their glassy dead look and become a beautiful blue once again, and the seal on his neck fades to merely a thin scar. He’s allowed to gaze upon himself in a mirror, and honestly, in that moment, the offer is extremely tempting. He’s beautiful again. He’s powerful again. He can fly  again. He’s told that his duties on Earth could be relinquished, and he could return to being a Dominion. Of course, he’d have to earn back everyone’s trust, and he’d still be monitored, but he can be his true self again. It’s the hesitation that sets Gabriel off. He’s already annoyed that everyone is being so merciful to someone he deems unworthy. He chides Angelo for not accepting this gracious offer immediately. Why is he hesitating? Why wouldn’t he jump at the chance to be a Dominion again and regain his respect amongst the other angels in Heaven?When Angelo flat out refuses, it confuses the other archangels. They question why he wouldn’t want this, and if he doesn’t accept, the opportunity won’t be given to him again. He’ll have to live out the rest of his existence on Earth doing the same work he’d been doing for the past 40+ years. He’d have no chance to return to his former glory. He doesn’t say much, only that he’s content with his life in the land of the living. He’s fine living the way he does, and that one good deed doesn’t forgive his past transgressions. Aaand, that he has his own reasons for wanting to stay. Michael strips his power away. Gabriel scoffs and mumbles to himself, wondering why Angelo would refuse such an offer, how he’s ungrateful, all that. Angelo asks if he can leave. And Michael says yes, and that Heaven only needs him to continue his work among the humans, but besides financial support, Heaven really won’t have anything to do with him anymore. As Angelo begins to leave, and Gabriel makes snide comments, Angelo then asks, “So… we are done here?”After receiving confirmation, that yes, they are done. Angelo turns and decks Gabriel right in the face, knocking him back and few feet. Gabriel of course, whines and complains, but Angelo simply leaves and goes back home to continue on with the plans of getting Valak back. –To get Valak back, he needs a way to coax Kocell back. He’s an angel, he can’t just waltz down into Hell. He’s very unsure of what he’s supposed to do to get in contact with her. But, the answer comes to him unexpectedly. As if by a stroke of luck, Angelo spots a demon wandering around in human form. The demon isn’t really bothering anyone, and just seems like they’re just kinda living amongst humans like Valak did. So, of course, Angelo stomps right over to them and begins harassing them, grabbing them by the shirt and getting up in their face, telling them that he needs to get in contact with someone. He needs the demon to send a message for him. He needs the demon to tell Kocell that he wants a rematch. He wants to face off with her again. He gives the demon a specific time and place he wants to meet, and tells them to relay the message. There’s a bit of threatening on Angelo’s part to made sure that the demon does as it’s told. After that, it’s just a waiting game. Angelo tells Nevaeh that the plan is in motion. He’s nervous. Scared even. He doesn’t want to hurt Valak. But, whatever Kocell had done to him… that wasn’t his Valak. That was some sort of beast. Angelo and the girls make their preparations. They’re ready by the time Kocell shows up again. She’s boastful and showy as always, and makes a big deal of making her entrance with Valak in tow, looking just as feral as before. They’re a good distance away from the incomplete salt circles, so Kocell won’t notice them. It’s risky, but Angelo needs to lure the two demons to the circles. He needs to get Valak to chase him down again. Turning on his heel and pushing off with a powerful flap of his wings, Angelo lunges forward and away from Valak, coaxing him to chase after him. He just has to use his own legs to try and outrun Valak until he gets him to the circle. He can’t risk riding Heaven’s Bounty and disrupting the salt circles. He has to do this himself. He also can’t be too far ahead of Valak, because he doesn’t want him to notice the salt circle ahead of time.(Also, if anything went bad, he didn’t want Heaven’s Bounty to get hurt, because she would most definitely try to protect him if Valak attacked)He’s running as fast as his legs will take him, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Valak is behind him. Meanwhile, Kocell is following them, eager to see how her little pet does. She wants to watch. Unfortunately for her, she’s paying so much attention to Valak and Angelo, that she doesn’t bother to look down to her feet and to notice that she’s walked right into a salt circle. She’s literally stepped right into their trap. Nevaeh quickly rushes out and completes the circle, trapping Kocell inside. It’s a very intricate circle, it needs to be complex to hold the power of a demon general. Nevaeh doesn’t want Amber Lee anywhere near Kocell.  Plus, Amber Lee can’t see Kocell or Valak when they’re in their demon forms. Kocell was caught off guard. She hadn’t expected that Angelo would team up with humans of all things. Nevaeh immediately starts reading off Psalms that will banish Kocell back to the 9th circle of Hell. Amber Lee has poked her head out once she sees Nevaeh jumping into action, she doesn’t know if it’s time for her to act yet. Valak definitely noticed when Kocell got trapped. She’s definitely screeching and making a bunch of noise. Valak turns his attention to her, ready to save his mistress. However, Amber Lee happens to be right in his path. And, obviously, Valak would have no problem completely eviscerating her to get to Kocell. Amber Lee has no idea that she’s right in the way. She’s ready to close up the other circle, but doesn’t know when. She’s unaware of the demon ready to bulldoze her down. Angelo panics, seeing that Valak’s attention is off of him, and that Amber Lee is in danger.With no other choice, he materializes his whip. He cracks it towards Valak and snares his wrist, tugging him forward and dragging him down into the salt circle intended for him. He holds him there and gives Amber Lee the signal to close off the circle. The moment the circle is closed, Angelo releases Valak from the whip. The injury seems to be searing and smoking, the whip leaving a pretty nasty burn on Valak’s skin.

He’s, of course, snarling and nearly foaming at the mouth, looking on as Nevaeh finishes reading the passages and exorcises Kocell back to Hell. The ground opens up, and with a scream, Kocell is plummeted back to the very bottom of Hell, as if there was a weight around her ankle dragging her down. Needless to say… she’s pissed. Once the ground closes back up and Kocell is nowhere to be seen, attention turns to Valak.Angelo had hoped that exorcising Kocell would make Valak return to normal… but it’s not the case. He’s banging and pounding at the invisible barrier encasing him in the circle. He’s still the same. Still feral. Still wild. They restrain him with chains made of Holy Gold, while Nevaeh recites incantations to keep him settled while they get him back to Angelo’s apartment(luckily humans can’t see any of this going down).And once they get him to Angelo’s place, they clear a room to put him in, and restrain him with even more chains. They place a large salt circle around the room to keep him imprisoned. And a good spritzing of holy water doesn’t hurt either. Angelo can’t stay in contact with the Holy Gold for too long, and after having to drag Valak all the way back home, he can’t even really be with him. He has to keep him locked away in that room.(He had to physically touch the gold while locking Valak up, which is much worse than simply being in the presence of the Holy Gold. He can be in the presence of it alot longer than he can be touching it. And he’s already done too much touching for the day.)So. He just has to lock Valak in the room and then go to sit with the girls. Angelo’s mood is notably… down. He has his husband back, but at what cost?

[nowitsdarkfic]

chapter eighteen (cry for the indian winter)

“Slipping through the wasted ground, you’re so full of it. All the way and down and out, such a hypocrite.” -”Powertrip”, Joey Belladonna (better known as that one song that makes St. Anger look like child’s play I shit you not)

December 21, 1988. Seattle, Washington.

Nirvana's set lasted about twenty minutes and then afterwards, we returned to the hydrogen car and headed on back to Seattle, which is now in fully bathed in that blue neon even though the sun hasn't set behind the veil of clouds over our heads yet. Riding all the way back to Belltown, I can't stop thinking about that little three piece band. I can envision them and Soundgarden going places in the world. I don't know where they'll go from here but I'm sure it'll be good.

The neon is even brighter than ever as we enter the little town of Sea-Tac. And then it hits me.

“Do either of you ladies know if there's a recording studio here in the southern part of the city?” I ask Sonia and Marcia.

“There is one,” Marcia recalls, her tone of voice unsure. “It's—” She gasps. “—right down here! Turn off, Sonia!”

Sonia takes this next exit, interestingly on the left side, leading us off the freeway into this rather dim lit and cold looking neighborhood in the southern part of Seattle. The pavement on the street is rough and rugged dotted with the occasional pothole. The golden lights lining the street are shining into the car as we're moving along the road here. Aside from the few glints of neon here and there on the sides of the brick houses lining the street, everything reminds me of the little industrial looking neighborhoods in New York City, or better yet, Wellesley or Oswego. This is the one part of Seattle that hasn't stepped into the world of the future.

At least I hope I isn't.

I have my doubts about the cybernetic world to our right due to the fact Lars is feeling better in terms of pain, but I also have to bear in mind that my best friend is in the hospital back home in New York because of what I assume to be from all of this. It's a definite suggestion but I can't say anything for sure yet. Lars and I still have to make my way into the heart of the city in order to check it all out. I figure it can't be that much of a walk for us and if we get any looks, we can merely use the excuse that we were two of the hockey players who challenged those cyborgs the day before. It's not really an excuse as it is the actual truth, but whatever.

Sonia pulls up to a stoplight and I peer out the window next to Spence and Lars. It's still quiet here, much too quiet to be anything anywhere remotely to a city. At least the City back East and Boston have a lot more nightlife to their fabric than all of this: this almost bothers me, like I wonder where all the people have vanished to when no one was looking. I peer out the windshield at the red light and Sonia glancing about the intersection.

“Seriously?” says Spence.

“I know, right?” Sonia agrees with him, looking both ways again. “There is literally no one here!”

I catch the view of a street cleaner crossing the intersection right in front of us, crawling at a cautious but firm pace like one of those big desert tortoises. It reaches the right side of the intersection, and attaches itself onto the storm drain, and that's when the light turns green.

“Seriously,” Spence repeats as we roll forward.

“I guess so?” Marcia replies with a shrug of her shoulders. We pass under a wrought iron overpass even though the only other road to be seen is the freeway and we didn't even go underneath that. I peer out the window at the sight of it, at the rich navy blue sky on the other side of it: the arches and the inside of it all form into this intricate web of crosses, each of them the exact size and the exact perfect square shape. It's like a tapestry, a heavy metal tapestry that's about to light up in silver and pure gold for the night. This part of town is still within the twentieth century and I want to keep it that way. I don't ever want it to turn into the glowing blue and green monster that's nearby.

Although Lars is feeling better! That little bottle of sparkly black sludge shit that dissolved in pure water is a miracle medicine for intense pain.

No! I can't forget Brick! This industry is killing him!

Ugh. Fuck.

I only feel like recording my voice and then seeing if I can find people to play some instruments for me seeing as I can't afford a guitar or a piano of my own right now.

Sonia veers off to the side of the road, right up next to the curb before a low slate building that resembles somewhat to a fire house.

“Is this where Alice in Chains recorded their demos?” Lars asks her from right next to me.

“This is the place,” she answers, tugging on the parking lever and switching off the hydrogen underneath us.

I climb out first into the chilly afternoon: there's a cold wind emerging off of the nearby Puget Sound and I can make out the first plumes of lake effect type snow floating up from behind the low skyline of Sea-Tac. Or maybe it's just chimney smoke.

I just want to do what I do best because this is killing me.

I close my coat right as Marcia and Sonia climb out of the front seat in unison; the former shows me a friendly little smile and a lick of her lips. Yeah, yeah, we had lunch yesterday and she's definitely dialed back her advances towards me in the wake of it, but I guess it's still within her. I'll never forget the day she kissed me in the upholstery shop.

She shuffles over to me with her hands stuffed inside of her coat pockets.

“I didn't tell you,” she starts in a hushed voice, “watching you and the guys play against those robots yesterday was hot as hell.”

“You actually think so?”

“Yeah. Watching you on your skates with that stick outstretched before you… it was quite the sight to see. You sure know how to move about a hockey rink.”

I shrug my shoulders at her as a gust of wind picks up a piece of her hair and tosses it right into her round face.

“Been doing it for almost twenty years,” I explain to her. “Some days it's like just another day at the office, you know?”

“That's how Sonia feels sometimes,” she answers.

“Huh?” Sonia joins in from behind her.

“Nothing,” she brushes her off.

“Oookay—anyways, the front door is right around the side here, Joe.”

“Alright. And all you guys come on in here, too—I think it's gonna rain soon.”

“Might even snow,” Marcia adds.

“Seattle gets snow?” Spence seems genuinely surprised by that.

“Occasionally, yeah,” she continues, “Portland gets it more, though. You guys oughta talk to Matt and or Chris about the times flurries have fallen up here.”

I lead the way to the right side of this building and from the dim light from the street and the afterglow of the city, I spot the door right down the wall from us. It really is like a fire house.

I push open the door to reveal a pitch dark room: I grope at the wall to my right and feel the light switch.

To the left of me is a rough looking brick wall lit up by a series of exposed long light bulbs shining golden light over the floor. Up against the wall is a plush dark brown corduroy couch and a low black wooden table topped with a ridiculously tall stack of cassette tapes. Over my head is the low hanging, cold looking smooth metal ceiling held up by narrow arches. I keep looking onward to find that we're underneath a balcony: out in the open is a vast cold concrete floor with nothing more than a single brass colored rug in the shape of an eye and a small spindly black stool right in the middle of it. To the right is some kind of silvery radiator looking thing with a thick black pipe coming out of it and attached to the wall: there's our heat.

Meanwhile, there's something hanging from the ceiling.

I stride on over to it only to find that it's a microphone. Right behind the radiator is the sound board, heavy, cumbersome, and the color of old brass. I put my fingers around the head of the microphone to better examine the silvery grating on it.

Lars darts past me towards the sound board. I watch him duck down behind it, only to emerge within a few seconds with a pair of head phones.

“Oughta get a drum kit in here,” Spence calls out from under the balcony.

“I'll ask James and Kirk if there's any way we can get some guitar work on here,” Lars assures me with a wink and a smile.

“We can ask Chris, Kim, Hiro, and Matt, too, if they're willing,” I add to him with a sly grin. Guess this is my own private studio now.

I open my mouth and let out a low growl from the base of my throat. I set a hand on my stomach to feel my muscles relaxing.

I breathe in and think about Maya and Brick. Then I catch the sound of the rain beginning to pound on the roof over our heads. I raise my voice using the help of my stomach muscles. I'm trying to sound louder than the rain.

It's the winter solstice. The darkest day of the year.

I feel the cold darkness around me, only to be accentuated by the golden light behind me. I feel it within me. I feel the darkness in my soul, the crystals of cold rising up from the frigid earth and making their stay inside of my bones. There's something burning and roaring around inside of me, like an old flame that's been buried alive and all but forgotten by the world. This flame is alive and well within me, within this body of mine.

I figure that Lars, Chris, Kim, and I all have ancient roots. I'm Indian and Italian; meanwhile, Kim is other kind of Indian. Meanwhile, Lars hails from a kingdom rich in its own rite. But then there’s Chris, his eyes bearing a primeval soul much older than Lars and me glued together. I think about the solemn look on his face and hearing the power and the prowess within his voice. He's the one with the tie into the rest of the universe.

I have him firmly in mind as I take out the notepad from the inner pocket of my coat. Lars messes around with some of the dials and the buttons on the sound board over there: it's old fashioned but sometimes we have to in order to get shit done. He points a finger at me and that's my cue to go forth with this raw demo.

And I sing my heart out, like crying for the Indians. The cold metal and stone that surrounds me makes my voice sound hollow and lifeless but I can always do it again. It's just technically me after all. I put all my strength from my stomach and the lower side of my belly into my voice to where I think I almost sound like I'm crying.

I'm crying for the winter and the burgeoning cyberworld that's leaving me with a choice: to embrace the fact it's helping Lars or remember that it might the thing that kills Maya, Brick, and myself. I come to a song I tentatively titled “Wake Me”, about all the times I lay awake in bed staring up at the ceiling and feeling the ghosts around me, and I bring the microphone right up to my mouth for more feeling. I close my eyes and sing it out, as loud as I can, to where my hips and my chest begin hurting. It's all coming out from somewhere, from somewhere so deep.

I'm in there singing for about an hour until I reach the end of the notes. Lars then pushes a button and claps at me in standing ovation.

I have my hands right on my stomach. I need to spit. Fuck. I don't think I ever sang at such a guttural level in my life.

“Oh, Jesus, you okay?” Lars stops and gapes at me.

“I sang too hard,” I reply to him, my voice breaking. My voice is gone and I'm in agony.

“Let's get him something,” suggests Sonia and I feel her right behind me. I can hardly stand up it hurts so much.

I'm in trouble now.

[tearlessrain]

time to subject myself to Dracula: The Dark Prince, aka another bad movie starring another dude from black sails. this time with 100% less horny on main because my only real motivation for watching it is it truly looks to be a whole new caliber of horrible and I have to see it.

witness my standards for incomprehensibly bad movies being raised prohibitively high in every way imaginable under the cut

I seriously doubt that.

this was made in 2013 by the way, not 1994 as the graphic design of that logo might suggest

oh good, once again we’re opening with an exposition narrator. except this time it’s a woman and she has less vocal inflection and emotional investment than an amazon echo.

I feel like she’s gonna tell me to turn left in 800ft

it feels like a dragon age epilogue, but just. worse.

WE ARE WATCHING A TRULY HIGH QUALITY MOVIE TONIGHT MY FRIENDS

I can’t even describe how bad this is, you really need the sound. that’s where the true lack of quality shines through. siri’s depressed sister is talking about pre-vampire dracula’s epic feats in battle to more weird sepia dioramas and the dying soldiers sound like they hired muppets to voice them

HOLY WIG BATMAN

also this dude is obnoxiously jovial considering he’s supposed to be dracula, even if this is pre-vampire

oh no dracula’s advisors, who all wear black hooded robes and scowl ominously, have betrayed him and killed his wife, how unexpected

someone drew these, looked at them, and thought “yeah that’s good enough to go in the final movie”

the characters are speaking both english and what I assume is... romanian or something? transylvanian? it’s not spanish or welsh I can tell you that much. anyway there are no subtitles and also no rhyme or reason to which they’re speaking at any given time so I hope I’m not missing anything important. probably not.

so like... they killed his wife, yes. and he went on a murderfest in what appears to be a church in revenge, makes sense. now a dude who... I think maybe he’s supposed to be a priest or something? but he wasn’t speaking english so I can’t be sure, then a voice over said “I have killed for god, the hand that fought for him will now be turned against him” but I’m unclear on who was speaking. this movie is an absolute clusterfuck and we aren’t even five minutes in yet. this is still the prologue.

now zombie alexa claims dracula was cursed with immortality “in punishment for his defiance” but I’m still not sure... what defiance. he killed the dudes who murdered his wife and that’s somehow not okay despite his apparent status as a war hero, a designation that implies a LOT of killing has already happened?

fucking finally, the title screen. usually a prologue clarifies what a movie is about but I went in thinking I knew and now have absolutely no idea what I’m watching.

a carriage drawn by friesians is rolling through a misty forest with wolf howling sound bites playing at random in the background to vaguely urgent music, now this is what I’m here to see.

nevermind the carriage is too slow so they’re leaving it because that’s a thing people do (?????)

“Lady Arwen, we cannot delay”

seriously though everyone’s mumbling so much I can’t understand them much better than when they were speaking whatever the other language was

BOOTLEG XENA RIDES AGAIN

but this time she’s accompanied by esme. we don’t know who esme is yet either.

there she goes

and now the knights are being attacked by hilarious squeaky goblin things? who I guess are led by this power rangers villain with, again, an unintentionally hilarious voice. it’s like a bad batman impression.

with every minute that passes I become less certain of what I’m actually watching.

they’re looking for the “light bringer” and telepathically overseen by the world’s most halfassed lestat dracula

they’ve also got some random prisoners in a cage wagon

okay the prisoners are being taken to dracula’s castle and I’m sorry for such an image-heavy post but I NEED you to understand the community theater level of set design/quality we’re dealing with here

“what is that?” cardboard and mod podge is my guess

so far the only thing esme has done is fall off her horse and be knocked unconscious, and now a Roving Band of Misogynists has appeared to harass Bootleg Xena 3.0 in the most generic way possible (the words “what ‘ave we got ‘ere” accompanied by a chorus of malicious cackling and some whistles have been spoken)

oooh no the ringleader of the Roving Misogynists has been given a name, and it’s ~Lucien~. I have a horrible feeling that I’m about to bear witness to the worst romantic subplot in the history of cinema.

oh for... I thought at least bootleg xena 3.0 would be a Strong Female Character and fight them off, but she just rapped lucien on the head with her sword and then they stole her very important box and left as obnoxiously as they came

OH NO SHE’S ASKING TO GO WITH THEM, SOMEHOW THAT’S HER PLAN I THINK I’M RIGHT SHE’S GONNA HOOK UP WITH LUCIEN AND IT’S GOING TO BE HORRIBLE.

“trust me” she says to esme, who, wisely, obviously does not.

I appreciate the timely thunderclap every single time the castle comes on screen

who the fuck are you, did you wander onto the wrong movie set

nope okay they’re not gonna explain that shot at all we’re just moving on to a shot of a weird angel shadow doing slow flamenco moves on the ceiling while ominously gurgling, and the prisoners being led into the throne room

“what’s happening to us?” I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW THE SAME THING, PRISONER #3

oh never mind that guy from before wasn’t a priest, he is remfield, chancellor of this kingdom, which means the last scene he was in makes even less sense

AKSLDGHJFGAKDLFJGHKAJGHFDKLFDS;GJokay so. remfield introduced himself then said “I will see that your needs are tended to.” then dracula in his new white contacts gets up from his shadowy throne, circumnavigates the cluster of prisoners, sniffs them dramatically, and walks back to his throne. remfield then says, “come, I will see that your needs are tended to” because proofreading is for COWARDS

now remfield is... literally giving the prisoners a tour of the castle and going on the “oh you’re our guests and many pleasures and adventures await you” speech and somehow the prisoners are accepting this despite the fact that they were just carted in on a barred wagon in shackles and got sniffed by a bad alucard cosplayer. they have a fucking harpist.

seriously, who the fuck are you

she’s just been twirling around in the background of this entire scene for no discernible reason no matter what rooms they go into

what the hell am I watching

yeah they’re just going for that incredibly suspicious food and also seem weirdly okay with the ambient clusters of scantily clad lesbians no one will explain okay they deserve whatever happens to them

WHOA TITS apparently this movie is a different rating than I thought

remfield: the newcomers have settled in

dracula: I  d o n ‘ t  l i k e  s t r a n g e r s

then why pray tell have you brought them directly into your home in chains. I cannot stress enough how avoidable this situation was for you my dude

“just think sire, once the light bringer is in your possession no one need die again” “except those who defy me” [ominous chime as the angel shadow on the ceiling continues its sensuous flamenco dance]

meanwhile in the misty blue filter forest of eternal night, some guy in a tricorn finds a gold amulet that I think bootleg xena 3.0 dropped, and the power ranger villain rides menacingly in a random direction for a few seconds

I’m still waiting on whether this masterful display of cinematic calvinball has any cohesive story to it.

ah joy and we’re back to The Non-Adventures of Xena 3.0, Esme, and the Roving Misogynists

as an aside, I’m not calling her that just to be dumb, I’m calling her that because they still haven’t given her a name even though her sidekick got one in the first five minutes

they’ve opened the box and revealed... the light bringer, which is a wooden staff. because it is not shiny gold, the roving misogynists regard it with confounded disgrunglement and scoff at xena 3.0′s insistence that it can defeat dracula

these guys sound like what an eleven year old thinks gangs of ne’er-do-wells sound like. like cartoon weasels, if the weasels were also mediocre pirates who have heard of women, conceptually, but never seen one. like goblins in a pre-written D&D campaign run by a slightly overwhelmed first time DM.

HUR DUR WALKING STICK NOT TREASURE, WOMAN DUMB

it’s what cain used to slay abel, apparently. given that zombie alexa mentioned that dracula is the descendent of abel, this leaves us with the terrifying implication that someone did put at least some vestige of effort into writing this movie.

oh good she’s finally gonna fight lucien

no she failed again. please someone just punch the shit out of lucien so he’ll stop.

NO WHY ARE YOU MAKING OUT STOP IT GOD HAVE SOME STANDARDS WOMAN. STOP PLAYING FLOATY ROMANTIC MUSIC IN THE BACKGROUND THEY ARE LITERALLY STILL STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ENTIRE BAND OF ROVING MISOGYNISTS

I thought it might at least be a trick but no she is actually, genuinely starstruck over this profoundly mediocre olde-timey frat boy who called her “sweetheart” while she was trying to explain to him why the ancient dracula-defeating relic was important.

this guy.

we did it boys, we found a worse love story than twilight

also I just. I wish I could convey with words the way the roving misogynists react to every single thing lucien and sometimes xena 3.0 says like the world’s worst greek chorus in a literally neverending stream

lucien (post makeout and xena 3.0 explaining again that the relic is ancient and powerful and they’ve searched for ages to find it): well we may not be knights but we can respect that

[cacophony of rowdy but understated agreement]

lucien: what do you think boys, should we give it back?

[assorted grumbles of assent]

xena 3.0: hm, a thief with a conscience

[gruff mercenary-esque chuckling]

lucien: maybe even a heart

[chorus of “ooooooOOOooh”s and some whistles]

it just goes on like that in every scene they happen to be physically adjacent to, they never shut up but also never actually contribute or say anything meaningful

ah, the mysterious leonardo has appeared. I think he was the one they were trying to take the light bringer to so that’s handy

“what is happening here? what is this flirtation?? is this the people to share your sacred secrets with???” - leonardo, the only remotely rational person in the entire movie

oh he is schooling these idiots, finally someone with sense. it’s bouncing right off of lucien, but at least he’s saying it.

“the scourge” - leonardo

“scourge!” “scourge!?” “scourge?” “hrgghhg??” “hrrm...” - the roving misogynists

power ranger villain and his squeaking goblins vs leonardo, the most useless female leads of all time, and the roving misogynists. who will win.

not the people watching this movie, I can tell you that much.

oh no, the lightbringer isn’t working. this will do nothing to convince the roving misogynists that it isn’t a walking stick

oop, wilhelm scream

oh no lucien has picked up the light bringer

goddamn it he’s the chosen one isn’t he

yep he activated the stick and now we all have to suffer

oh xena 3.0′s coming for power ranger villain maybe she’ll actually do something

nope she bounced off him and now he’s grabbed her and hauled her onto his horse

“you’re coming with me” he says in his weird batman voice, to make sure the audience can tell that he is in fact taking her with him

and esme has yelled “no” to make sure we remember that she’s in the movie

wait what the. did lucien just yell “xena” is that her actual name what the fuck. what the fuck. I had to have misheard that. okay I can’t tell what he’s saying for sure but someone’s bound to say her name again at some point in the movie so I’ll revisit that.

and on that note, I think I’ll end here, because there ended up being a LOT more to unpack in this movie than I expected, it’s after midnight, and I’m tired.

tomorrow, we follow lucien as he presumably goes to save some lady he wildly disrespected and then made out with one time whose name may or may not actually be xena, and hopefully figure out what the hell is even going on with dracula, remfield, and their castle full of artfully strewn half naked harpist lesbians and dancing ceiling shadows. because right now I really don’t have time to unpack all that, and I have a feeling it will only get worse.

[romancevsreality-blog]

the bachelorette, season fourteen, episode two: let’s pretend i didn’t forget i didn’t post this recap, okay?

Thank god Queen Rachel showed up to save this episode, otherwise I don’t think I’d have much to say1.

We’re in Venice Beach, California, and it’s Becca’s first date as the Bachelorette and since Arie, which isn’t saying a lot considering she basically had an hour between their breakup and her crowning. The beeftestants are all ready for the competition to begin and to get their first date card. The Devil Incarnate Chris Harrison arrives for a solid 30 seconds to ask the guys about how they feel about Becca. We see David without the chicken suit for the first time and god, that venture capitalist does it for me. I hate myself for it too, but he honestly looks like if Scott Wolf and Matthew Fox got together on the set of Party of Five and made a baby, and I AM ABOUT IT. David probably drinks old fashioneds and wears boat shoes. My Mortal Enemy Chris Harrison talks about how serious Becca is about the entire experience, and tells them to relish in the time they get with her.

Remember, these people get, in total, around 48 hours with the person they’re going to marry if they make it that far, most of which is spent with an entire camera crew and production. I hate to say it, but Chris Harrison might be right.

Aside from a brief moment of correctness, what else does Chris Harrison have?

A DATE CARD!!!!!!!!!!

Clay, Nick, Chris / Perez Hilton, Venture Capitalist/Chicken David, Jean Blanc, Jordan, Connor, and Lincoln are on the first group date of the season.

The guys pull up and Becca’s there in a wedding dress, and Jordan’s feeling confident because he’s a model2 and beating good looking dudes is basically how he makes his bread and butter, so he’s not concerned. I love that Jordan’s entire personality is just being a Good Looking Guy. No one ever explained to Jordan that looks aren’t everything, and if they did, he wasn’t listening. Becca wants to “pamper” the men the way she was on her first date with Arby and I love that Becca thinks men’s idea of pampering is wearing tuxedos and drinking champagne. I mean, that’s my ideal man, but what do I know? I’m the kind of person who thinks Jack Donaghy was right here:

Becca pretends not to be ogling these men because I would be ogling these men. Without shame. I decided in 2018 I’m going to be as shameless about wanting to sleep with men as men are about wanting to sleep with me and it’s pretty great. I haven’t taken a full left turn into catcalling just yet, but I really have just embraced my inner Guy Checking Out A Girl Meme this year.

Jordan does his various modeling runway walks, and honestly, I so preferred this last week on the Vanderpump Rules Secrets Revealed episode when it was Tom Sandoval. Tom Sandoval actually had variation in his poses, where as Jordan is verging on the Zoolander “THESE ARE ALL THE SAME LOOK I FEEL LIKE I’M TAKING CRAZY PILLS” type of modeling. Jon Kortajarena is offended. Jordan is comfortable wearing clothes because he does it for a living. He tells Becca the best way to get dressed is to put her confidence on first. Becca invites the guys to go get rough and there we see

QUEEN RACHEL AND HER FIANCEE BRYAN.

This is a variation on the challenge we had last season that starred Mila Kunis and the Jar Of Douche she married, but instead of babies, it’s a wedding themed obstacle course. It’s a stretch, but it’s basically guys in tuxedos doing a Mud Run, something I can guarantee 85% of the men on this show have participated in. The first obstacle is strapping an ankle bracelet with a ball on it to the next obstacle.

Because ball and chains. Get it? Marriage? Women are carriers for men’s baggage?

Moving on.

The next is “Cold Feet”, which is basically dunking yourself into a vat of cold water3 for a period of time. The next is “slippery slope”, running up some slippery steps. Then “Get Over Your Exes” where they have to crawl on the ground to get a bouquet. The stretchiness is so real, it’s like a rubber band. They’re really trying this.

Finally, it’s “Cake Tasting”, which basically has the guys chomping through some cakes in order to find rings. This is all made worth it for Rachel telling the guys to “find out what that mouth do,” which I think should be a much better catchphrase than “do the damn thing”. The final two have to race to the altar to find Becca.

The obstacle course is kind of boring. Clay DGAF about the ice buckets, meanwhile Lincoln is miserable. All the guys notice that Lincoln got in the tub after them, but was out before them, and are pissed. Meanwhile, Lincoln is slipping and sliding all over the place4 and he gets a huge headstart. However, he misses the vase that bouquet of flowers is supposed to go in, so he must go back. By that point, David’s caught up and is face first in cake5 and they’re neck and neck until Lincoln nudges David, and he falls. Lincoln is the one to meet Becca at the aisle and “propose”, and the guys are all pissed.

There is a difference between competitiveness and playing dirty. Lincoln was playing dirty - leaving the tub before his time was up, knocking David over - that’s not a fair playing ground and yeah, Connor (I think?) is like, “wow, that says a lot about him as a person if he’ll cheat on a game like THIS.”

At the After-Party, Becca is wearing a red lace dress and Lincoln is being obnoxious. He keeps calling Becca his wife and the guys are barely in their chairs before Lincoln is taking Becca aside. Lincoln keeps saying “you bring out the best in me,” and Becca wants to know why. I love Becca’s line of questioning. These dudes can’t say empty, false platitudes because she’s gonna ask why. Becca gives him a portrtait of the two of them on their “wedding day” and Lincoln… kisses it. He’s gushing and all over her and they finally kiss in a manner that’s not covered in mud.

"Kissing Becca is like flying to the moon on the wings of a Pegasus while dancing with unicorns on a pot of gold.” - Lincoln actually says this. I have never hated anyone so much.

Back at the house, there’s a...

DATE CARD!!!!!!!!!

It goes to Blake, who honestly, if you replaced him mid-season with Miles Teller, I wouldn’t realize.

We see the montage of Becca connecting with the guys, of course. Meanwhile, Lincoln is literally talking to his “wedding portrait”, kissing it, all kinds of obnoxious behavior. The guys are annoyed because he keeps propping the picture up and rubbing it in their faces, and it’s not something any of them are cool with. I mean, same? Connor (I think?), who clearly is being manipulated by a producer, keeps moving the picture, even when Lincoln continues to display it. Connor (I think?) tosses the photo on the ground after Lincoln’s like “where would I put it?” Of course Lincoln is the type to get hyped up on semantics. Lincoln props up the frame one more time, and Connor (I think?) ’s completely normal, pratcial reaction is to fling the photo across the pool, shattering it.

This reaction is so over the top, and I hate Lincoln, so that’s saying a lot. Lincoln was wrong, but his incorrectness was basically harmless. Connor (I think?) ;has been there for one day at this point. It is entirely unacceptable that he reacted like this… after one day. It’s a red flag if I’ve ever seen one.

Meanwhile, Jean Blanc, my mom’s dream husband for me, is making Becca swoon. Honestly, he talks about needing love in his life and how he gives her butterflies. They kiss and it’s nice. I'm glad Becca is giving the black guys a real shot at this.

Meanwhile, Lincoln is lurking a stairwell waiting because he “needs a new picture”, and he’s crying. He’s “rattled” because Connor (I think?) broke his picture and tells Becca that it’s becuase he didn’t like the picture. All the guys are like “tattletale”. Lincoln calls Connor (I think?) aggressive6 and says he doesn’t know why Connor (I think?) destroyed the photo. Becca points out that yes, this is aggressive and extreme, and is frustrated that it’s this early in the season and this is already happening. Becca goes to talk to Connor (I think?) , and Connor (I think?) really doesn’t see anything wrong with how aggressive he got straight away, which is scary. Rightfully, Becca asks him if this happens often, because girl has right to know if this dude is going to slaughter her in her sleep. Becca admits that what Lincoln did wasn’t right, but she wants someone respectful. Becca’s frustrated because it’s already too soon for this drama to start.

Remember what Chris Harrison said about using your time wisely? This is what he meant, Connor (I think?). Your time with Bex was spent talking about another dude.

Back with the group, Jean Blanc gets the group date rose. Of course.

Back at the house, Lincoln is still upset about his picture and Garrett, Andrew Keegan and the rest of the 90s Villains are all telling him it’s okay for him to be upset about it. I mean, kind of? It’s not worth crying over. I bet production can get you another copy, they just need to go to Michaels and get a Michaels coupon for 50% off frames first. They go to Jordan, where he’s sititng with the same Andrew Keegan from before, and Andrew Keegan is like, “dude, why are you CRYING over a photo where you don’t even look good?!”

Andrew Keegan, asking the right questions. No wonder you started a cult. Jordan thinks Lincoln’s accent is fake, and normally I’d be like “pfft, who would fake an accent?” But then I remember the Emmy-worthy performance Lincoln is putting on and I remember... it’s guys like Lincoln who put on a fake accent. It’s like Emily Mortimer on 30 Rock, but instead of fragile bones, Lincoln has a fragile ego.

They make an entirely uneventful transition to Blake on his date with Becca. I went to high school with a billion dudes who look just like Blake, and that is probably the source of my tiny crush on Blake? I mean, Blake is likely as trash as the rest of these men but he’s trash in a sweater?7 Honestly, looking like Miles Teller and not having the personality of Miles Teller already is a win for Blake. It’s Blake’s first limo ride because last week, he rode in on an ox. And before that, a horse. Blake does not like enclosed spaces. Becca has no idea what’s happening on the date today, only that it’s been left in Chris Harrison’s hands.

A List of Chris Harrison’s Date Ideas:

Making you into a human candle

Slaughtering babies

Going to a Speculum Museum

Creating enemies

Drinking mimosas from human skulls

This is why they haven’t let this man plan a date on this show before.

They meet Chris Harrison at what only be described as a Murder Warehouse8 and he’s holding a sledgehammer. In case you’re wondering what my nightmares are like, it’s this. Chris Harrison in a button-down and jacket with no tie, holding a fucking sledgehammer. Basically, the entire premise is “Becca, you say you’re over Arby, but production isn’t quite yet, so why don’t you smash some of his shit with sledgehammers?” Y’all, did you know Arby and Becca broke up? There are TV monitors playing her proposal like some demented Truman Show, the couch he broke up with her on, and Arby’s racecar. We get it, production. The metaphor has been handed to us on a stick.

Also, this is a dream date of mine, but with just general shit. I want to smash stuff.

Then Lil’ Jon shows up and I yelled “GIVE HIM THE ROSE, BECCA!!!!!!!!!!!” I have no idea why Lil’ Jon is there other than to DJ the destruction. It’s perfectly scored to “Turn Down For What” because this show really is permanently in 2014. Regardless, Becca and Blake are getting along. Their arms are sore! Becca was nervous but not because of Blake. They already knew what they were in for and so they were relaxed. Becca points out that this show is a lot like dating in reverse - basically, you’ve already picked this person as your life partner, now get to know them - and how that created an environment where she fell for someone quicker than she thought possible. What a fascinating dynamic, honestly, and it’s amazing how simply summarized the concept of this show is. People always say “How do they do this so quickly, how can they say they’re in love after a few days?” When you’re isolated with nothing else to do but think about the possibility of a life with the only person in your vicinity, combined with someone coming into your room to talk to you only about that One Person and your relationship with them, you’d do the same. This is why distractions are good in love. When you first fall in love, keep yourself busy9.

Blake unleashes his trauma - he fell for a girl who said she loved him early on, and then everything changed and she broke up with him out of the blue not even a week later. Damn, that’s savagery. He can appreciate her being there and opening up again after her heartbreak, because he’s struggling with that. Blake gets the first one-on-one rose.

Back at the house, there’s a...

DATE CARD!!!!!!!!!

Garrett, Rickey, John, Ryan, Alex, Christon, Trent, Leo, Wills, and Colton are on the date card. Which means none for Andrew Keegan / Jason or Mike.

The guys on the group date head onto a school bus and head to a field, where Becca is waiting for them. Colton confirms his virgin status by talking about how good Becca smells - she looks good, but smells better? What? Shut up, Colton. Your facial hair isn’t enough for your chin.

They head into a gymnasium, where the men are immediately greeted by eight-year-olds throwing balls at them. The kids are there to show them dodgeball and make sure they know how to dodge a ball like Becca dodged Arby. My absolute favorite is these kids just reading these grown men to filth. One of the boys calls the men trash and asks if Becca wants trash, and I literally laughed for a solid hour.

The pink team takes the strategy to hide behind Becca because no one’s going to hit The Bachelorette, right? Wrong. Christon is just pelting her with balls. Dodgeball is a serious sport, despite what these people think. We get another occurrence of Fred Willard, who I really hope was adequately paid for this appearance because he looks like he’d rather be in bed. As quickly as the game starts it devolves into this year’s NBA finals - Leo vs. the Green Team, if Leo is Lebron James and the Green Team is the Golden State Warriors.

CAN I GET A MOMENT AND A PAT ON THE BACK FOR MY SPORTS KNOWLEDGE????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? I’LL WAIT. I’LL WAIT. I know y’all are shocked.

Becca’s shocked Leo, who is a stuntman, is good at dodging injury in dodgeball. Becca. Come ON. But the audience is living for Leo, the Last Man Standing. Eventually he’s defeated and the Green Team is the victor, but Becca’s got her eyes on him, so that’s what matters.

At the After-After Party, the guys are all on top of the world. It’s the opposite vibe from the other group date, so of course someone’s gonna come in and fuck it all up. Garrett and Becca talk about whether it was weird to get the First Impression Rose and then be sequestered into Group Date category. Garrett talks a lot about himself and calls himself the male version of Becca. Wills has the best sense of fashion out of the house, full-stop. They do rapid-fire questions, my favorite form of getting to know someone. Becca wants a relationship like her parents, and Wills does too. Wills gets emotional talking about his parents and his family, and I love Wills!!!!!!!

Is Wills my new Wells?

Colton and Becca sit down and Colton’s got something big to reveal to Becca. He tells Garrett that before filming started he had a fling with Tia from Arby’s season. I love the underlying message here: I was dating the girl who probably would have been The Bachelorette if Arby hadn’t smashed Becca’s heart. Colton, without a doubt, is there because he thought Tia would be The Bachelorette.

We’ve had the dynamic of “they hung out before and came on the show to date this person”, namely in the case of Kaitlyn Bristowe and Nick Viall. There’s no doubt in my mind this was the intentions of everyone involved - Tia, Colton, and production. There were rumors of Luke Pell, when he was still a contender for The Bachelor, taking previous Bachelor contestants and various women that if they came on the show for him, he’d guarantee them a spot in the final four and they’d get the chance to “date” while on the show. This is what cost Luke the position as The Bachelor. Colton either a) went on the show for Tia and stayed along for the ride with the hopes of getting to Paradise and (likely) dating Tia or b) is there for the Instagram followers and the fame that comes with it. The timeline doesn’t make any sense.

Colton tells Becca that he dated her friend for a few months and that it fizzled out because it was getting too serious too quickly even though they had a connection. Which is why he proceeded to go on a show where the end goal is a quick engagement? Get the fuck out of here with that logic, Colton. You also dated Aly Raisman - you’re a starfucker. He takes a long pause when he says “I’m here…. To get to know you.” He’s not, he’s there for the Instagram ads. Becca doesn’t send him home immediately like I would. He’s basically admitting to not being there for The Right Reasons, Becca!!!!!! You already had one dude choose another girl over you, and you’re into the one who has a high likelihood of doing the same thing? It’s salting a wound that already exists. Becca feels sick to her stomach about it, but doens’t sent him home on the spot.

To me, that’s production intervention. But that’s just me.

My New Boyfriend Wills gets the group date rose, but it’s begrudging.

At the cocktail party, Becca arrives in this gorgeous cobalt blue sparkly dress that is easily on par with my favorite Bachelorette Look, Joelle from The Final Five Elimination form her season. She looks gorgeous. More of this, less of the red lace, blarg.

Clay takes Becca outside and teaches her the Art of the Celebration Dance. Sometimes Clay comes off a little robotic, and I wonder if he’s just got a lack of experience with women. Which isn’t a bad thing. For a professional football player, it’s a little shocking. He’s so smooth though, because he uses what would be a “helmet bump” with his teammates to parlay a little smooch in there.

Venmo wrote Becca a poem, and he is too good to last. Venmo, call me. Connor (I think?) gives Becca a picture of himself from the mud date and they both fling his picture across the pool in order to make peace. Meanwhile, Jordan is trying to set himself apart from the other guys. He really wants Becca to know his personality, so he decides the best way to show her that is to get naked and parade through the mansion.

I mean, thus far, Jordan has done a great job of teling us his personality is basically just Being Good Looking, so this is one way to show your personality. Jordan also thinks that nothing attracts women more than being comfortable next to a sexy man, which is a very simplistic way of thinking. I’ve been comfortable around sexy men, but barely. Also, they were fully clothed at the time.

He parades past the other men in his boxer briefs and interrupts Becca’s time with David, who immediately gets his feathers ruffled10. Becca is amused, but David feels disrespected. Jordan doesn’t want Becca to get the wrong idea of him - he likes to live life on the edge, he likes to be a classy gentleman, which is why he’s sitting next to her in his skivvies on the couch. Meanwhile, David’s rattled and is immedaitely questioning Jordan’s intentions. Jordan is the kind of guy who wants to pass his name along to his son and wants to call his son Jordi, which I’m pretty sure is the name of a porn star.

What David hasn’t realized, though, is that every season has a Jordan - the guy who pushes buttons just by having a personality - and every season there’s a guy whose skin he gets under and that becomes their main focus. I’m sad it’s my boyfriend David, but I also have Venmo, Wills, and Blake in my back corner for moments like this.mp3. Last season it was Whaboom and Blake. The season prior? Alex and Chad. David also got upset earlier in the episode when Lincoln cheated and didn’t feel the need to say anything then, even though he had a legitimate reason to. Be more assertive, dude. Don’t try to approach an irrational person with rationality like you do Jordan. He doesn’t care what you think, and clearly none of the other guys are as butthurt about Jordan’s annoying behavior as you are. Jordan knows what his purpose on the show is, and he’s not going to be shamed because he literally cannot feel shame.

Also, David - you came in wearing a chicken suit last week. You’re kinda the last guy who has a leg to stand on when it comes to this.

Becca sits down with Colton and they try to unpack their conversation from prior. He wants to make sure Becca knows the reason that he’s there - to get to know her / Instagram ads - and she can trust him.

BECCA NOOOOOOO GET AWAY.

Becca talks to Chris Harrison for the thirty seconds he’s allowed for himself to be on set that day and basically tells him it’s been a hard week, but he’s like “okay, it’s time to send someone home so I can go home!!!!”

The rose ceremony starts.

Chris, Andrew Keegan / Jason, Venmo John, Clay, Mike, Connor (I think?), Leo, Chicken Daddy Bae David, Garrett, Nick, Ryan (Who I think is Mystery Bae from last week, good GOD he is fine), Christon, Jordan - with a bonus struggle to pin the rose to his blanket because of course someone in production didn’t have him change, Lincoln, and Colton are all safe.

That means bye to my mom’s dream man, Rickey, Trent, and Alex, who gives us some drunken man tears on his way out that are unintentionally hilarious.

Next Week: We’re playing some football! Jason / Andrew Keegan and Chris get some private time! Tia, Sienne, Kendall, Bekah, and Caroline are all there from Arby’s season to help the guys, and of course that’s why Colton was allowed to stay for another week, because they want to show us the love triangle of Tia/Colton/Becca. Tia totally seems liek the kind of girl who would flirt with your man in front of you. David’s white knighting Becca about Jordan. And oooh, there’s an ambulance? Someone’s fucking hurt.

See you next week!

Random Assessments from the Desk of Amanda:

So many of these guys look the same. Oh my god. Someone tell me the difference between Connor and Garrett. I really think they put them on separate group dates so Becca would remember they’re not the same person.

My mom’s picks for men this season:

Jordan is trying to be this season’s Corinne and I am not about it. I wasn’t about her, either, though.

THE LIGHTING ON THIS SHOW IS SUCH A MESS.

I really don’t like the narrative that these guys are solely here so Becca can forget another guy. Why does she have to forget him? She doesn’t even have to forgive him. It’s a part of her story, of who she is as a person. You’re as much of a person because of the pain you’ve felt as the great parts of your life. Arby is rubbish, but we must at least acknowledge his place and impact on her life. Also, replacing one trash dude with another doesn’t help.

Of course Jordan describes himself as an alpha.

I really think the reason I don’t like Lincoln is because he really does act like one of those black guys whose entire idea of success is a white wife. Like, achieving whiteness is his ultimate goal. He’s so phony, so calculated, and I don’t trust him.

I’m really struggling with coming up with a nickname for Becca. Like, I tried Bex, but I feel like Bex is going to be better served for Bekah Martinez on Paradise and her disappearing ass. Gimme suggestions in the comments.

Becca looks like June Diane Raphael, fully confirming that The Bachelorette and Burning Love are the same show.

Chris looks like Perez Hilton, 90s-era Adam Goldberg, and Ben Stiller in Dodgeball all rolled up into one rat-like person. Like, his face is permanently in “I smelled something bad” mode.

Related: Ben Stiller should get some residuals considering this season is basically full of men based on characters he has played.

I do want to take back a lot of that harsh things I said about Bryan last season. Yes, he had too many fillers put in and I did just have a thing for Peter ripping off his sweater in his breakup with Rachel, but damn. Those two have stood the test of time (or at least a year, longer than a lot of these other relationships have) and here we are. Their Instagram stories are my favorite. He loves her so much. She got him to stop putting so much filler in his cheeks. It’s all good. Plus, damn. He was lookin FINE in this episode. Get it, Rachel. ↩︎

Between him and Christina from America’s Next Top Model 24, I never want to hear the phrase “I’m a model” again. PS: Have you heard my podcast yet? ↩︎

Connor calls this a “good little bathroom break” - dude, are you advocating peeing yourself on a date? DUDE. DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE. ↩︎

I swear to god this show is trying to kill people. ↩︎

This is what Rihanna was singing about. ↩︎

Is this the first time anyone can think of where the black guy is calling the white guy aggressive and scary? This is refreshing. ↩︎

You know how my type is just Shoulders? Yeah, my type is definitely Shoulders in Sweaters. Yum. ↩︎

It’s an off-shoot of the Men’s Warehouse - you take the Toxic Masculinity Tunnel to get there. ↩︎

I actually just rewatched the episode of The Office where Michael thinks he has herpes and contacts all of his exes, only to realize he has a fantasy problem and a problem with romanticizing relationships with a revisionist history of what truly went on. Much like Michael, I understand wanting your life to be an epic story, including the Happily Ever After. But after thinking about this… I mean. If Michael had been more focused on his job like he should have been, maybe it wouldn’t have worked out for him that way? Then again, he might have married Jan. ↩︎

Come on, you know I had to. It’s an easy joke. ↩︎

[doof-doofblog]

"... It's The Least I Could Do!"

Monday 28th December 2020

Good evening everyone! Hope you all had a brilliant weekend! The New Year is looming!! I can't believe that by the end of this week we'll be into a new year - 2021! Crazy right? I hope you enjoyed my last post, the previous ended on such a nail biting, seat gripping moment - I am so looking forward to finding out what happens next!!!

Wow, Oh Wow! What another brilliant episode! I feel like there's so much to mention, obviously the BIG one involving Gray and The Carter's, I'll leave that one for last! Let's focus on Ruby and Martin first, in the previous episode Ruby had informed her husband that she was eager for them to have a child together. This episode carries on pretty much immediately after Ruby has dropped the bombshell on her husband. Unfortunately for Ruby, Martin, with a heavy heart, reveals that he doesn't want anymore children, considering the fact he has 4 already. Ruby is visibly devastated by her husband's revelation, she questions why he never mentioned anything before they got married. But to be fair, I don't think Ruby has ever been the Mother-ly type? I don't know, she's still young and maybe she may have wanted a baby eventually. Martin tries to softly explain to his wife, that he loves and is enjoying what they have. With her eyes visibly getting teary she leaves the Vic, leaving Martin sat on his own. However, when Kat, Stacey and Kush arrive at the Vic, Stacey notices Martin sitting alone and approaches whether she's able to sit with him. With Stacey knowing Martin all to well, she can see something has happened at that the couple have had a row, but when Martin reveals exactly what it's about, she can fully understand Martin's point of view. Regardless of what she thinks of Ruby, she advises her ex-husband that if he only agreed with her to make her happy and he'd probably resent her and regret it for the rest of his life. Meanwhile, whilst Stacey and Martin are having their conversation - Ruby goes to her club and grabs a bottle vodka to drown her sorrows, she walks into her office and longingly looks at the picture on her desk - Which I just want to mention, how bloody young does Louisa Lytton look in the picture along side her onscreen Dad, Billy Murray (Johnny Allen)?! Crazy! Later on in the evening, as Ruby leaves the club and Martin leaves the pub, they both find each other in the Square and instantly they both seem to apologise to each other, Ruby for dropping it out of the blue and Martin for his reasons for not wanting another child. But I think the thing that upsets Ruby just that little bit more is when it's revealed that Martin had confided in Stacey, Ruby looks instantly hurt. She informs him that she is completely aware that Stacey will always be a part of his life, mainly due to the fact that she's the Mother of his children, it's then that she voices that her husband was right, why should things change for them whilst things are great for them? However as they turn to walk home, Ruby's tears begin to fall as she can no longer hide her devastation!

Speaking of another couple briefly, Ian is still feeling under the weather as his Mum pays him a visit, trying to persuade him to get his marriage to Sharon annulled, as she tries to get through to him that Sharon doesn't love him and is simply with him out of pity. Even though Ian demands his Mother to leave, it seems as if her words play on his mind, as later on, Sharon is making him a hot cocoa - of course unbeknown to him, adding that little bit of poison into the drink, as he takes a big gulp of the hot liquid, he announces to his new wife that his Mother's words are actually correct. Even though Sharon tries to convince him not to listen to his Mother's advice, he reveals to Sharon that they should get an annulment. You can see the absolute fear in Sharon's eyes as the thought of not being able to carry on with her plan, she begs to Ian not to annul their marriage, she tries her absolute best to persuade him that he's the only man who's ever truly cared about her. It looks as if Sharon has to act quick, even say the one thing that she truly doesn't want to say, but it seems as if she doesn't have a choice if she's wanting to get rid of Ian and take all he has, she reveals to him that she's slowly falling in love with him!! When I first saw this, the one thought that came to my mind is - Is Sharon going to have to go a step further and maybe even sleep with Ian, just so she'll be able to get what she wants?! She truly is a woman on a mission at the moment!

The next thing I want to mention is Linda, Mick and Max. Even though we know what's happening round at the Atkins household (I'll get to that very important part shortly!) Mick is at home packing his things, announcing to Linda that he's planning on going away with Tina that very night! However, it looks as if Linda pleads for her husband not to go, questioning him whether he has actually thought things through clearly. But the one thing that she mentions which seems to change his mind, is Ollie. She pleads for him to stay for their little boy, it's true that Ollie would be completely lost without his Daddy. (I know I've said it before and I'm going to say it again - Ollie is so god-damn cute! Don't think I've ever seen a more cute, beautiful looking child!) However, what next seems to really confuse/surprise me, after, Linda visits Max and is surprised to find flight tickets booked for New Zealand on New Years Day! If we recall, Linda did admit to Max that seeing as it looks like her marriage to Mick may be coming to an end, she thought maybe going to New Zealand to make a fresh start with Max would be a good idea. However she seems incredibly shocked to have it sprung on her like this, and so soon! She never thought he would mean straight away, but Max tries to convince her - what have they really got to lose? - Although, something tells me that neither of them are going to make that flight on New Year's Day??!!

Okay, so now the big elephant in the room!!! TINA???!!! Oh my goodness, what brilliant acting from both Toby-Alexander Smith and Luisa Bradshaw-White! I was almost shouting at the TV for Tina to get away from Gray! Have to say it was brilliantly filmed and edited! The way Tina absolutely lashed out at Gray, revealing she knows EXACTLY what he had done to Chantelle, and threatening to tell everyone on the Square! Even though you feel like you were rooting for her, you feared for her also! It's like we knew full well that Gray wouldn't hesitate to act to stop Tina from revealing his secret! I thought it was absolutely brilliant as he was chasing her around the house, from the front to the back, it was like there was no escape for her as it was a complete, open-plan, circle space which she couldn't find a way to get away from him! Even thought she fought her absolute best to fight her way out! I kind of panicked for a moment when they both looked to the set of kitchen knives on the counter, I wasn't sure whether one of them lunged for them, but when Tina makes a dart for the front door, suddenly out of nowhere, Gray lunches towards her, stopping her in her tracks! Everything goes black! When we return to the scene, everything is quiet, Tina is nowhere to be seen, but Gray is looking calm and collected as he's has a drink and is talking quietly. At first it looks like he's talking to Tina, trying to act all innocent and giving his reasons, he loved Chantelle, but she didn't listen - just like SHE didn't listen! Then, the camera turns to show Tina, out-cold, unconscious, slumped on the living room sofa - only the interesting thing is is that she has a noticeable, big, purple bruise around her neck, almost looking like she's been strangled. Did anyone else find it completely creepy that whilst Denise was at home speaking about the type of man Lucas is, how evil and twisted he is - that it was also referring to Gray, whilst he was wrapping up Tina's body in a sheet?! Had Gray actually killed Tina?! Another victim of his wrath?!

It's going to be absolutely devastating for the Carter family once they find out the truth about Tina! I'm sure it was confirmed that this episode was Luisa Bradshaw-White's final episode as Tina, but do we know for sure if she's dead? Could she, unbeknown to Gray, actually be unconscious? If he has simply dumped her body somewhere that we're not aware of, could it mean that she could return one day?! Who knows? I feel it wasn't made fully clear whether she was dead or not, what do you guys think?  What did I say about her gold chain?! I knew that that was going to be significant, even though Shirley has found it, she has no idea what has actually happened to her sister! She and Mick have been made to believe that Tina has fled Albert Square in an attempt to escape police. Oh My God!!! Was anyone else gobsmacked when Gray was putting Tina's body into the boot of his car, and Mick just happened to approach and ask about his sister - I literally shouted at my TV "She's right there!!!" How on Earth could Gray act so calmly, lying to Mick and making up a story about Tina already leaving the Square without him! The scene between Shirley and Mick as they're sitting in the Vic was a very moving one! The first thing that got me was when Shirley made a toast to her sister, even though she is wishing her look, she is completely unaware of what has truly happened to her younger sister! This scene really got to me as it seems to be the first time in a long time where Mick and Shirley have actually sat down together one-to-one and had a drink, she questions her son why he hates her so much, but Mick's eyes begin to get teary. He softly explains to his Mum that he doesn't hate her, as this comes as a relief to her, she pleads to her son to open up and tell her what's been going on, what is happening in his head, what has gotten him to this state? Why have he and Linda split up after everything they've been through? Even questioning could it be his anxiety. For one very small brief moment - you think Mick is FINALLY going to talk! His breaths are raspy and his eyes are full of tears, he softly begins to speak ... "It's ..." But before he can even carry on that sentence, Gray finds them. It's then that they both thank him for everything they've done for them, and Tina!! Ooooooohhhhhh that rattles me a little bit, Gray takes their "Thank You's" and turns away, but oooohhh just wait until the Carter's find out the truth, Gray cannot hide his secret forever, he will get his comeuppance eventually! Mark my words!!!

Thank you all so much for reading! I apologise it's late but I hope you've enjoyed reading as much I've enjoyed writing this post! I'll be back tomorrow following tonight's episode! Enjoy the rest of your evening folks! Love you all xXx