#the healing power of entity love

[calvinbeemanart]

Entities in love at the edge of the world.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Thinking about a Yandere Demon Lord. This is Part 1.

Yandere Head Canons:

Defying Destiny

Yandere Demon Lord x Isekai Saintess Reader x Yandere Hero

TW: Voyeurism, stalking, Somniaphilia, dacryphillia, dark content, etc

Part 2

You were surprised to be alive after your cold fiancé pushed you into oncoming traffic when you got into an argument with him… all you had wanted was for him to show you that he loved you, but instead he killed you. Yet your life didn’t end… no. Far from it.

Rather than waking up in the supposed after life, you woke up in the Rerenth Kingdom. A fantasy kingdom in a magical world plagued with problems written in fiction novels. And the emperor explained to you, no, demanded that you to take on your role as Saintess to save them from the Demon King.

The demon king was now your enemy. Defeating him was the only way for you to go home… but did you even want to do that? In your last life and in this one, you were merely another unhappy pawn. The silk robes and dazzling abilities did nothing to shield you from the harsh reality of what your life has become once more… would you ever truly be free? Would you ever truly be happy?

The servants often spoke of the monstrous Demon King who controlled the forces of darkness that sought to destroy the light. A demonic entity none of the people in this kingdom had ever truly seen with their own eyes, but they believed him to be out there… how else were they to explain the supernatural happenings that plagued their kingdom? This entire ordeal made little sense to you since you hadn’t seen many disputes between humans and demons unless they were over territory. Vast majority of the time, it was humans that ventured into the demonic lands anyways. Was this perhaps some propaganda tactic? You didn’t know and you didn’t question it, you simply wanted to retire to a peaceful life.

It took a few weeks for you to be able to control your new holy power, but you were able to now harness it for barriers and for healing. Abilities that would be useless without a hero… a fact that the citizens soon realized so they began to devise another plan. To summon a hero!

Another few weeks passed by and they successfully summoned a valiant hero by the name of Reinhardt. His chiseled face was constantly covered by the taxidermied lion mask that adorned his face. The man was massive and intimidating, yet you couldn’t help but feel there was something familiar about him. You couldn’t place a finger on who he could possibly be since you didn’t know anyone else with an imposing stature like his but that gut feeling never left you.

Reinhardt would often glance you up and down when he thought you weren’t looking. His green eyes would bore into yours until you felt as if you’d be set ablaze. He was terrifying to you. Especially now that you were on a journey with him to defeat the demon king… along with a fox beastwoman fighter and an elven mage who had joined your party due to the emperor’s order. The Emperor didn’t see you to be enough aid to the hero on this important quest.

Both adventurers were quite rude to you at first since you had no offensive abilities. They often fawned over the hero who blatantly ignored their affections to instead watch over you like a hawk. A fact the two women didn’t really enjoy, but they accepted it as the weeks melted into months. And you still didn’t know their names since they never told you (and Reinhardt never spoke).

The three of them often fought and killed monsters and demons while you protected the supplies and healed their injuries. It upset you that your party ambushed them since the enemies usually were unarmed. Majority of the time, it was a one-sided slaughter. An endless bloodbath that you had no power to stop.

You often lied to your peers about monsters hiding, unaware that your small act of kindness would lead to a snowball effect in the future. You had now caught the eye of an entity much stronger than you and the hero’s party… all because you were merciful. You were kind and sweet. A true saintess.

Your softness had made your peers joke about you being a cry baby. The elven mage and beastwoman often jabbed their elbows into your side to joke about the tears you’d cry because they thought you were scared. The dense women never realized your tears were for the innocent monsters they slaughtered on a day to day basis too. You were never scared of the demons or monsters, you were scared of them.

Yet Reinhardt nipped the subtle bullying in the bud by shoving the other two adventures away from you with his strong arms. He always made sure you were safe before he offered his body for healing… which he’d just make gesture at you with his hands rather than speak. It seemed he was fond of you, a fondness you didn’t understand since he never spoke to you.

Reinhardt would often pick you up without asking you and tuck you into the crook of his large arm. It bothered you that he never took off his mask, but he had quite an attractive jawline with the slightest bit of stubble. There was not a doubt in your mind that Reinhardt was likely an attractive man, but that didn’t matter. Since he was creepy.

Reinhardt never uttered a word to you but would always dutifully stand by your side (or carry you like some sort of damsel). He often reminded you of your ex fiancé with his stoic demeanor and his bewitching green eyes. And the staring. You swore you felt bare under his gaze even if you had multiple layers on.

And it wasn’t just his eyes you felt on you, you swore there was someone else watching you in the shadows and the possibility of you having another stalker made your skin crawl. Had you finally gone insane from having Reinhardt be around you 24/7? Or was there something sinister amiss?

Maybe that’s why Reinhardt so dutifully clung to you? Whether his protection was out of obligation or simply because he lusted for you, his presence did little to ease the extra set of eyes. In fact, he made it worse.

Wherever you were, Reinhardt was never far. He was with you when you bathed to stand guard. He was carrying you if you couldn’t keep up with him and the rest of the hero’s party. Reinhardt even began to stay in your tent with you…

He didn’t utter a word when he watched over you whenever you had nightmares. Reinhardt never woke you up from the horrific dreams of the man with pitch black hair and sharp talons pulling you into his lap and having his way with you. No, Reinhardt instead dragged his tongue down your tear stricken face in delight.

Reinhardt knew his actions were wrong, but he couldn’t help but fawn over your helpless form. You were so weak without his protection… you were a lamb sent to a slaughter that luckily had a herding dog with you. You should be grateful Reinhardt had such an intense interest in you, otherwise you could have perished earlier on at the goblin camps. Or those other two party members would have likely broken a few of your bones from rough housing. You were a frail bird that needed to be locked up at all times and Reinhardt was willing to be the one to do that! He would keep you safe, even if it took you years to understand even an ounce of his magnitude of feelings for you. He was a patient man!

It wasn’t uncommon for you to wake up in your tent with Reindhart’s imposing form standing over you ominously. You’d cry every single time, but he’d make no move to comfort you. Only stare.

Over the last four weeks, you begin to receive little trinkets in your tent on the daily. Delicacies that Reinhardt would immediately pitch once he saw them, but it filled you with anxiety that he was not the one slipping you those gifts… who on earth could be gifting you such pretty rocks and wild flowers?

You were flattered, just the tiniest bit, by the small, temporary gifts. They were much more welcomed than the iron grip of Reinhardt’s arms. Even though the sender made you anxious, it was nice to know that someone took you into consideration. It was a small action that filled you with hope. Perhaps you would be saved from this fate?

Shame you didn’t understand just how much those tiny gifts upset the hero. Your eyes should only be on him. Your entire purpose should revolve around him. Reinhardt wanted to find the individual who sent you these gifts so he could rip them limb from limb. You belonged to him and he would show you that you had no way of escaping him. You were going to be his bride! Whether you liked it or not, the hero had chosen you as his destined one!

Recently, you’d wake up to him laying beside you in your tent with his large arms wrapped around you. His Roman nose buried into the crook of your neck. This was far worse than him lingering in your tent since he had become so physical.

And your peers did nothing about his harassment of you. To them, it was cute that the hero was so ‘enamored’ with the Saintess! You’ve even heard whispers of how the emperor will no doubt arrange a marriage between the two of you once the four of you eliminated the demon king. It terrified you even more because you knew you’d have little say in the matter… your life was spiraling out of your own control once more. This time, into the arms of some brute with attachment issues. You didn’t want to marry another emotionally constipated man! You wanted to have freedom!

You often cried yourself to sleep which only made Reinhardt even more overbearing. He now would press kisses to your cheeks and cuddle his body into yours. Even in your dreams, you couldn’t escape this massive man. If only you could be saved…

And when you drifted off into an unnaturally heavy sleep, your barriers deactivated. An action that allowed the Demon King to finally slip into your party’s camp and take what he wanted. You.

[bluerosefox]

Daughter of Phantom, Lady Gotham.

I love Lady Gotham stuff in the DCxDP stories, like a lot, so what if, hear me out (Long post is long, I rambled again)

Lady Gotham is Danny's daughter.

How? How about Danny is hurt (his parents? GIW? Vlad?), like badly, to the point even his core is damaged and the time needed to heal would take years, like a lot of years. Like it was bad that even his Rogues were shocked and shaken. They eventually get him to the Realms but are unsure what to do next. So they're scrambling trying to figure out how to save him.

So when CW appeared he asked to handed the Core because he knows what to do, where to hide him so he can heal they don't question it, everyone in the Realms know CW, the Ancient of Time itself, has a soft spot for Phantom. He opens a portal to a different world, not Danny's he can't run the risk of GIW finding him, to a just beginning world, the new world will help speed up his healing, and with Frostbite's help they set up a healing chamber deep, deep in the ground. Once they made sure everything is set up and safe, they place his core inside the healing pod and return every so often to check on him.

Over time though, above on the surface of that world it's timeline starts. Animals, creatures, humans, aliens, magic users, etc etc begin and with it, because even as a half healing core, Danny's power and ectoplasm starts effecting the area he's resting in (Ghost King Danny? Young/New Ancient/Eldritch Being? Or just an OP Danny?) (Clockwork and even Frostbite showing up every so often doesn't help either, it explains why Gotham is so cold sometimes or why time seems... off)

Anyways due to Danny's power (along with bits of Clockwork and Frostbite), magic of this world, and people beginning to build a small town on top of the land it gives birth to the namesake of the town.

GOTHAM.

CW foresaw her 'birth' and finds her sitting in front of Danny's healing pod. He always knew Gotham would eventually form, the belief/love her people have in her would had given her a form eventually he just wasn't expecting her to form so soon (this is why Danny remains his favorite person, he always did something CW never really see's to often) nor was he expecting her to become Danny's daughter. Gotham looks a bit like Danny, dark hair, blue eyes, pointed ears, sharp teeth, glowing star like freckles, but she also reflects her people, the ones that call Gotham home so her image shifts sometimes. But he can see small hints of maybe himself and Frostbite in the shifts.

She is 100% Danny's daughter via spirit/ectoplasm. If anything CW and Frostbite are like many times removed family members when it comes down to ectoplasm.

She's silent for a moment before she asks if "You and the other come here often to see him... The one sleeping is he my father?" Which CW does confirm, he explains why Danny is healing and who he and Frostbite are and why they show up to make sure he is doing better. How his healing will take many, many years. She goes silent again before saying "Teach me how to protect him. I am new and young compared to others... and yet I already know if anyone desires him for the power he gives, they will stop at nothing. He is my father and I am his daughter, I need to keep him safe just how I know he would keep me safe. This much I know."

CW agrees.

She learns, from her father's allies (CW, Frostbite, Pandora, etc etc) how to defend and fight. How to protect what she loves. She watches over her father and fights off demon's, monsters, sometimes an alien that senses the slumbering power, evil magic users. Etc. She watches over the town and people who named her as well, falls in love with the humans who call her home as well and defends them as well.

She even gets the blunt force of a curse a powerful old entity that tired to place it on her father after she had just banished it from her lands. It's an old powerful curse that CW or Frostbite can't rid of because it would weaken her far to much that they run the risk of her fading, the only way to get rid of it is if she had a family member feeding her ectoplasim to help sustain her. (Her aunts can't because Jazz isn't ghostly enough and Danielle can't because hers is limited due to being a clone (like she has enough for herself but does need to visit the Infinite Realms during her travels to get more ectoplasim to filter in and out). Danny is their only chance because he's constantly filtering ectoplasim in and out and even creating it because of how he died with a portal opening up at the same time)

The curse slowly starts eating away at Gotham, makes it hard for her to have a solid corporeal form because pain (when she has to use this form to fight off others she has to bare through the pain), her appearance starts changing (eyes turn from sharp ice blue to glowing yellow, skin turns deathly sickly pale, her star freckles slowly blinking in and out, hands become inked claws, her dark hair is unkempt and spills like an oil sludge down her body and face) and because Danny is still healing himself he can't help her and she can't see him all too often anymore because she doesn't want to run the risk of the curse effecting his healing core, she does get updates from the other ghosts that visit him and then her. She still defends him though, outside of his healing chambers should on the rare chance something finds it way down to him.

Eventually due to Danny's and Gotham's natural ectoplasim filtering on the lands, visiting and powerful ghosts, Gotham fighting off powerful beings trying to use her father for power, and the curse on Gotham herself, the town that had been built on the ground above by humans becomes the very city we all know.

Its a whole mixed bag do to so many factors, that's why Gotham is the way it is.

Gotham does her best to keep her people safe from well... everything but due to the curse and the fighting off another person/entity/demon/magic user/etc coming for her father's power, she can't always do much by the time one crisis is over and a new one pops up, she's slowly breaking down the longer it takes.

That's why she has a soft spot for her Dark Knight and his family and allies, they help her from the pain from the curse by trying as both the Wayne's and as the Batclan to fix up her city self, its not enough to really fix her fully but it helps with the pain that eats at her.

She does her best to give them tiny blessings though, but due to her duty of protecting her father she can't always do much (she wept when news of Jason, her second Robin, her rough around the edges bookworm, had died came to her. She couldn't protect him because he was out of her reach. Its why when Joker returned she made it very hard for him to really gain his foothold in her again but had to stop because CW told her if she kept making it too hard for the clown he'd go running off to 'play' with a different hero and that... that timeline would lead the world to ruin. She begrudgingly stopped but when Joker had taken her third Robin, her tiny Tim the one she loved watching shadow her knights, she did everything she could to keep him sane from the pain he had been put in, and lead Batman to the warehouse to save him. Also it turns out her heartbreak over Jason's death, her curse acting up, and her ectoplasim sparking off at the same time it helped bring him back from his grave not fully but somewhat, she was so shocked that she didn't have time to send hints to Bruce to get him when he was taken by Talia and once again out of her reach. She tried hinting it to Bruce that Talia had taken him but by the time he would check on the League, Talia would had moved him)

Gotham, depsite being young in the eyes of many other powerful beings and entities has held her own and kept those that wanted to use her father for power packing. Despite being cursed that is slowly eating her alive she still holds onto the hope her father will awaken and she will finally get to meet him. (She hopes she made him proud, he is a protector spirit core after all and she had been steadfast with keeping him safe all these years).

Things however take a turn for the worse when Gotham awakens from some sort of powerful slumber (she doesn't know what happened?! Did something knock her out?! When did she fall asleep?! Was it magic? Did the curse do it? Did someone or something-) And discovers someone or something had managed to steal her father slumbering core. (So close to healing, so close to awakening according to Frostbite, just a few more days he says. Just. A. Few. More. Days)

She tries to go find him but is suddenly hurting more, her curse has progressed even worse, she can barely stand, let alone fight whoever had her father. And she knows her father's friends won't be back to see her until far later.

And then all of Gotham shakes and shudders when her rage, panic, and terror are felt that early morning.

-×-×-

Deep in the Batcave, Batman and the others are searching for whatever caused that strange almost magical but not (ectoplasm) shudder that morning.

They were expecting a full scale attack. Magical, alien, maybe even all the Rogues in Gotham working together. An all scaled war. They were looking for any signs of it, maybe to by some miracle stop it before it becomes to late.

They however weren't expecting a strange sick looking woman with yellow glowing eyes, oil ink like hair covering her face and body, clawed hands like they had dipped in ink as well, star like freckles blinking in and out on her body and face, sharp ears, breathing heavily and coughing every so often to appear in the cave. Like she had sunk out from the shadows in pure silence. (Even Cass did not hear her)

Nor were they expecting her not to even flinch when they trained their weapons onto her. Instead all she did was laugh, a raspy low laugh, but it held warmth and mirth.

"Now, now my knights... No need for that. I come needing help and you are the only ones I will ever trust with this mission..." her voice was soft but harsh, talking seemed to hurt her though for she had to take deep breaths and suppress a cough. Her eyes trailed across them all, despite her sickly look her eyes gleamed with a motherly warmth in a strange sense, something all of them could feel "I can not hold this corporal form for long. Long story short I am cursed, have been for a very long time and whatever happened to me earlier this morning has aggravated it even more and thus I can not stay in the world of the 'living' to do much. My father, the one I have been protecting since my creation from all sorts of terrible and dangerous things, for should they get a hold of him it could spell the end of life itself for he is that powerful, has been taken from his healing chamber. I do not know who or where but I know he still remains in the city, that much I can sense."

She coughed and took a shuddering breath "But alas I can not go to his aid as I once has been able to, this is where you all come in. I need you to find my father, find his core. Bring him to safety. I had fought so many to keep him safe, to make sure he heals in peace for so long, and he... So close. Just a few more days he needed... then I could had finally had met him."

She lightly muttered those last few words, eyes looking lost for a moment before coughing hard.

"Who are you." Batman, Bruce Wayne, stonely demanded but for some reason he couldn't help but feel like he knows her, like from a foggy memory, and by the looks of his family they all could sense the same thing.

The woman, or whatever she was, merely smiled, sharp teeth bared in it as she looked him right in the eyes and said.

"Gotham, my dear Dark Knight. I am Lady Gotham herself. Its wonderful to finally meet you despite the circumstances."

[circeyoru]

Collection of Overlords _ Part 7 = Requested

[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 1.5 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 (here)

Song Used: "They're Only Human" ; in Death Note: The Musical (I've attached a link here, but there's also a video format later on when that part comes)

You hummed a tune while reading through a book and laying on your black cloud platform like a beach chair. Your little moment only cut short when your book was suddenly snatched away. You tilted your head up and saw a pair of silver wings with golden highlights before you saw your book burst into flames in the robber’s hand

“You sure took your time.” You teased as you got up from your comfortable position, opting to sit on your platform. “Trick.”

“Come on! Like you don’t know why!” The being exclaimed enraged with their wings getting puffed up, they took a deep breath and sighed deeply. “Your little Hell made too much of a commotion, Sil. And I told you to call me Noir!”

You shrugged, “That’s not fitting for a character such as yourself, Trick sounds better anyways.”

Trick was similar to you. Actually, he was your opposite. You being the true ruler of Hell makes them the true ruler of Heaven. Of course, unlike how you keep your identity in the shadows, theirs was more well known. Trick was the God that everyone made a big deal around

If one were to see you two together, they’s say the two of you were night and day, good and evil, yin and yang. Not in terms of element, but in appearance as well

While Trick has a pair of lovely giant wings, you had none and would use a black cloud platform to ‘fly’ in some sense. While Trick has hair above the shoulder, you had hair below it. Trick’s eyes remain opened while yours are closed. Trick dons a causal and chill look while you had a more formal and elegant look

Still, whatever you two may appear, those weren’t important as the personalities you two had. If Trick’s name wasn’t an obvious indicator, they are not the holy entity the humans and angels painted them to be

Like you, Trick is absent from a direct presence in your respective realms. However, they love playing around with ‘divine interventions’ or ‘sacred messages’ from the God of this world. Truly, no one was aware of a balance. Even there’s Heaven and Hell, and God is in Heaven overseeing ‘his children’, what of hell?

Yes. You are the ‘God’ of Hell. Though either of you like that title. Since Trick was the one more in the open, you love teasing them about it every time you meet. To you, it’s truly entertaining to see them groan and whine over it

“So~ How was the sleep? Good?” Trick leaned over as their wings flapped from time to time to keep them hovering in the air. 

“Like Hell it was, you put me out of commission for no reason and with no warning! I have souls to watch over unlike your lazy holiness.” You snapped with your eyebrows furrowed.

Trick raised his hands in ressurender, “Hey, I was out of commission as well! It’s not a one-side thing.”

Your eyes squeezed even tighter as if you’re glaring at the jerk of a partner. “You started it!”

The two of you were Supreme Beings of your realm and entities as holy and cursed element. You can’t have one without the other. While it’s true that you were weak to holy powers, Trick was weak to cursed powers. You two were each other’s weakness no matter the situation

And the two of you aren’t as immortal as people would think. The two of you can be killed and healed by each other. Killing involves falling into a deep sleep when one side dies and healing involves transfering the other’s wounds onto themselves to heal more naturally as wounds can only be done by the opposite element

If one asks how to describe the two of you. You both were inseparable, can’t have one without the other. The concept of yin and yang comes to play

You are yin, in darkness there’s kindness. You are the unknown, you are negativity, you are darkness. You collect and control the souls marked for Hell without letting them go so long as they worth something to you. Even when you do it wasn’t for mercy and you’ll cage them into a torture unlike any other

Though, you were kind. You offer advice to those that deserve it and give opportunities for people to change. Why else would you let a soul be redeemed and let it leave Hell to go to Heaven? Why else would you allow Alastor to remind at the hotel even after your presence is back? Why else would you give Husk that little hope at a better future?

Trick was yang, in light there’s evil. They are the known, they are positivity, they are light. Trick judges and provides the souls marked for Heaven without letting them feel any negativity and only joy and happiness. Giving those worthy souls that lived life accordingly to enter a paradise fitting of Winners

Though, they were wicked and twisted. They enjoy a good trickery here and there, opting to let their high ranking angels deal with everything rather than rule as the ‘God’ they were named. They cared for none but their own interest and entertainment. If anything, Trick doesn’t see souls to be worth anything. To them, souls were nothing but actors on a stage to perform a good show for beings that was you and them to enjoy watching

“Fine, fine. I won’t do that again, unless you want a little rest.” Trick smirked as he looked your way. “So how’s your collection?”

“Hm… There will be some changes with what I have now. It’s a work in progress.” You told as you thought it over, “How’s your Emily?”

Trick’s smile widened, “Oh, miserable. But admirable. The sweet thing. She found out about the exterminations and sided with that Hell Princess during court! I told you she’s worth paying attention to.”

You hummed, “That’s what you said about Lucifer and he ended up falling to Hell. I wonder if Emily will be casted out as well.” You sensed the dark aura around your dear long-time friend spike and you turned your head over, “Don’t worry, I know not to accept her into Hell. She’s your prized one. Even if she’s casted out, I’ll push her back into Heaven.”

Trick huffed, clenching and unclenching his fists, “Good. Cause I will so remove those stupid higher angels if they did that to the only worthy angel in Heaven.” He looked over to you as well, “Don’t worry, it’s the same for your collections, I won’t let them into Heaven unless you want them do.”

Your smile widened, “Oh, I’ll never let them go~ But thanks for that safety net.”

You both picked your focus. While yours was on a hand-picked group, Trick focused on that one. Your little soul owning had one amazing benefit that none knew. It was the protection against angelic weapons

Back then when Alastor was hit by Adam’s attack in the chest, the slash should have eaten away at his body and soul. The angelic weapons or steel was created to aim directly at the soul of a being, that’s why it could kill both demons and angels. There was nothing angelic to it, merely a combine of yours and Trick’s power to create something that kills the soul

Now, your protection that to limit the effect of the wound till they can reach you for healing. But the best part was that your Overlords have no soul within their bodies so they wouldn’t be killed! Even if their head was chopped off by an angelic spear, it will just take time to grow back

You’ll never tell them that benefit nor do you plan to let them know about it. That’s why you made your appearance at the hotel. It was the sole reason of healing Alastor on your own terms. You thought of leaving soon later but you just couldn’t leave the poor deer when he was that desperate for your presence

The thing you can’t understand was why Trick only picks the one being to care for. Emily was what their supposed to be honestly. If someone met Trick and it was revealed that they were the God, no one would believe it. There was so much chaos and twisted nature in them that it was impossible that they were God

Yet you as the one by their time since the beginning of time knew the change was because of time. Time changed their view on the world and humans. So many time, they were disappointed that they just gave up and decided to laugh at all the misery. Maybe, you and Trick could switch places

But Trick will never agree because they never liked what you have set up in Hell already, plus there wouldn’t be an ‘Emily’ there. It was proposed once, and Trick shot it down without a thought. So to cure their boredom, there are meet-ups like this

Of course, the two of you end up going to Earth to see what the humans were up to while marking souls on whether they go to Heaven or Hell when they die

Trick smirked and flapped his wings to fly over, and gestures to the humans minding their own business in the city, ♫ Look at how they crawl around, upon the ground, like little ants ♫

♫ Yes, but how they fascinate, ♫ You floated over with your smokey platform, slapping away his hand to touch a mortal, ♫ Confusing fate, With what is merely chance ♫

♫ Isn’t it a laugh? ♫ Trick nudged you.

You pushed him away, ♫ Isn’t it a shame? ♫

♫ Thinking there is someone in Heaven to blame ♫ Trick pointed at themselves. 

You rolled your eyes, ♫ Yes, but even while blaming fate for the lives that they lead. They hope for the lives that they need ♫

Trick snapped their fingers, both of them appearing in a cemetery with a heavy mood in the air. They carried a white umbrella while you carried a black one, staying at the back of the group that was grieving while a coffin was lowered, ♫ Living every day ‘til the day they die. Never getting answers ♫

♫ Yet still asking why ♫ You snapped your fingers and appeared on the roof of a building that oversaw a group of religious individuals praying, ♫ Going through the motions as if there will be a reward ♫

♫ While we stay, ♫ Trick made a bored and disgusted face at the scene, grabbing your hand so the two of you fall, ♫ Eternally bored! ♫

♫ They’re only human. They don’t see ♫ The two of you sang, Trick with their signature smirk and you with a bored look. ♫ Who they are is who they’ll always be. Only human, after all ♫

Trick brought you to a scene in front of a murder scene, ♫ So they push and they shove ♫

You showed Trick a scene with a romantic couple on a date, ♫ With this thing they call love ♫

♫ ‘Til they fall! ♫ You both watched as soldiers fall and their souls going to where they were picked to.

♫ Isn’t it a farce? ♫ Trick shrugged while the scene changed to that of a hospital room with a weak man on the bed.

♫ Isn’t it a waste? ♫ You eyed the crying humans around the man, listening as the monitor beep softer and longer with each pause. 

♫ Struggling to Face what can never be faced ♫ Trick leaned against the wall with crossed arms. 

♫ Yes, but maybe Death can release something more than we share ♫ You blinked at the man as he tried his best to hold the closest family member of his.

♫ I really don’t know ♫ Trick came over, their wing slapped at the man over the face and the lifeline fell flat, ♫ and don’t care ♫

You shook your head while the room bursted in tears and doctors and nurses rushed in, Trick was as indifferent as already with his grin on his face, ♫ They’re only Human. Standing still. Doomed to live pushing boulders uphill. Only Human, after all ♫

With a snap of Trick’s finger, the two of you arrived at a temple with a number of offerings, Trick picked up one and threw it to you then took one for themselves, ♫ So they give and we take ♫

You caught it with one hand and eyed it, then to the elderly women that was bowing to statue, ♫ Hoping someone will help break their fall ♫

Trick brought you to a gang meeting of sorts, the topic seemingly deciding on someone’s death, ♫ They will pray, curse, live, die. Never knowing their Truth is another Man’s Lie ♫

♫ Eat, sleep, love, hate ♫ You changed the scene to one where a group of friends were enjoying themselves in a forest, ♫ Like a Leaf blowing in the Wind ♫

Trick switched to a scene where students are forced to pick a career for the future, gesturing to all the troubled humans for you. ♫ Watch them all vacillate! ♫ 

The both of you sang, ♫ They’re only human. They can’t see ♫

♫ All the fun they could give you and me ♫ Trick laughed darkly while you smiled at his amusement.

♫ Only human, after all ♫ You both continued as you two picked out a wave of souls destined for Hell without another thought while Trick only picked a small group of them.

♫ So they give and we take ♫ You had your palms opened at the vast souls that would be doomed for Hell under your thoughtless choosing.

Trick nodded approvingly over your future collection, a twisted smile forming, ♫ ‘Til their silly hearts break ♫ 

♫ Looking down from above. I’m intrigued by their love ♫ An equally dark smile appeared on your face as you took Trick’s offered hand for a short sway. 

Trick suggested while taking you into their arms. ♫ So let’s play! ♫

You nodded along, ♫ Let’s play! ♫

Trick chuckled while dipping you down, “Hmm, let’s enjoy ourselves with these foolish souls.”

Since the beginning of time, there were two beings. A being that symbolizes light and a being that symbolizes dark. They were two sides of the same coin and co-exist together contary to what humans would theorize or write in their little works of art

“So I’ll assume you want me to put Heaven’s little business on hold? Not that they can do much with a redeemed soul in their ranks.” Trick smirked at you, their wings flapping at their little jab at their realm’s higher ranked angels. “So Hell gets some peace for the moment.”

Your smiled back, eyes peeking open to that revealed a cosmos from within, “Yes, that is much appreciated. There’s gonna be some interesting change in my collection.”

“Love it when your eyes does that.” Trick’s wings opened up to show the view of a night sky.

“Yours is not too bad. Quite the sight.”

“Only a sight for the two of us though. None is more worthy of it.”

“I’ll agree.”

Everything happening on these two beings’ whims and wants, nothing’s done with clear purpose, and anything’s fair game. As divine and just as the humans painted them to be, they are nothing like the holy one that cares for all’s interest from above. As cruel and evil as the humans painted you to be, you are anything but the cold and heartless tormentor of prisoners of Hell

Note: New character!! I'll get to the request that were about this concept in a bit. First! The character design for Trick and you will be out in a moment~

Now then~ You guys feeling op yet?

Oh yeah!! I'm more interested with the song format too!! First time trying this, what you guys think???

Circe Y. 

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @plutobots @ray-rook @thealienartist @serenity-songbird @galaxydreamer468 @raynerrold @wen01203@hikari-michiko @colecreo @myromanempiree @xsamkuro @yourdoorisunlocked @clavelina @jono723 @cursedcattalastor @an-idyllic-novelist @flamiohotman2024 @rea-grace @myromanempiree @veroneverleft @lousypotatoes @crazysuityouth @jellyedkazoo @wat4r @kiraisastay @thealienartist @chefysawesomeideas @wtvbabes @patronizingbitch @koshi-kazu @craftyperfectiontragedy @scr4luv @chrollobb @mysterypotatoink @callmefe

[laismoura-art]

Ok so...

Twice now i’ve seen people approach @elsa-fogen about a take that is “Alastor is in hell because of Voodoo” (the latest one basically saying he is in hell solemnly because of Voodoo”) and I can’t help but feel there’s reeks of religious intolerance from his take (even if it’s not intentional) cause let’s not forget, Voodoo is a religion (main one in places such as Haiti and Gana), and it’s often stigmatised and viewed through the wrong light. So you all can understand how a take like this could rub someone the wrong way and be deemed as religious intolerance.

But as I know this fandom is PAINFULLY stubborn and probably will want to keep exploring this take even if it makes some people uncomfortable (take the people who refuse to acknowledge Alastor as aro and the people who refuse to stop calling Alastor a wendigo for instance) I would like to offer an alternative take: 

See, I’m not from Voodoo and it’s not that big of a religion here in Brazil, however, we do have two other religions here that are similar/derivatives from Voodoo (Candomblé and Umbanda) and face similar prejudices, so I’m making this based mostly on these two but know that it also applies to Voodoo. 

In Umbanda, we have a higher god, the Orixás (entities that provide guidance and protection) and we have spirits, these spirits divide in different groups and offer advices and guidance to all types of people, there are spirits that look after women, children, grieving parents and even the lost (such as drug addicts).

But as we have good spirits, we also have bad ones. they are popularly known as “espiritos de porco” (pig spirits) who are usually mischievous and even ill intended spirits that might loom over you if they feel a bad energy coming from you or if you are spiritually unprotected and they will start to cause you misfortune and even make you feel weak and sick.

Some ill-intended people use these bad spirits against people they want to harm, the bad spirits may guide them in performing a ritual or maybe the spirit will loom on this targeted person. 

It’s (partly) due to people like this that these religions have such bad reputation, but these people basically perform their religion in a corrupted way! Umbanda is a religion that connects you with nature and guides you spiritually, it’s deeply connected with healing practises (mentally, physically and spiritually), but as I said, like EVERY other religion, it can be corrupted and used to harm.

I think the best use of “corrupt vs proper use of religion” I’ve seen comes from Disney's The Princess and the Frog. People usually remember Dr Facilier better, who used Voodoo against his enemies and to harvest power (much like a certain deer man we all know and love) but we also had Mama Odie (which is a real figure in voodoo, mind you. Also present in Umbanda, a Mama Odie is sort of a priestess of the religion) notice how she is a much more accurate representation of the religion, she lives in contact with nature, she performs her rituals and prayers in the wide while dancing with a very positive energy around, and she wears white (which is the most recommended colour to wear during rituals, as it’s a neutral colour and pleases all Orixás). 

So as you can see, there’s good voodoo practicants and bad ones, and in the end it’s all about how you use your religion, if you use it as you were taught, with pure intentions, seeking guidance and protection of good spirits and Orixás, or in a corrupt way, surrounding yourself with bad spirits and helping them spread their bad energy. 

So what I am hoping with all this is is that people put a stop to “Alastor is evil because he uses Voodoo” and adopt the “Alastor is evil because he does malpractice of Voodoo” which is a much more accurate to reality and respectful take. 

I’d even like to offer a headcanon of my own: 

That Alastor's mom was from Voodoo (maybe even was a Mama Odie herself) and taught Alastor all she knew and he corrupted her teachings and started using them for evil (perhaps even to aid him in his killing) and THAT, that corruption, was what sent him to hell, and true redemption for him would not to give up his powers/forsake his religion but actually to go back to his roots and use his powers for good (perhaps in a way that he ends up healing/saving someone (hopefully Charlie or Rosie)👀

[bigfatbreak]

I love reading about all your AUs so much! They’re all so creative!

I’m curious about the people of Paris in your villains AU. Like obviously Adrian and Mari are the villains but how do the people of Paris fear them. Is it similar to Hawkmoth in the original timeline? Or are they considered more or less of a threat?

Keep up the good work and make sure you’re getting plenty of rest!

the issue is, Paris is really split on the whole notion. Nekydallon and Pavo clearly are willing to go to strange lengths to find the "miraculous" they're looking for, but neither of them attack citizens, and Nekydallon exhausts herself helping the people of Paris.

They cause trouble, but, nothing that... can't be fixed? Meanwhile, Felix Furvus and Coccinella seem to act as though they're Paris' defenders, but- some citizens ask - defenders from what?

Many people see Nekydallon as a faceless entity who's worth admiring, with Pavo as her stalwart representative into the world. Those who've been her champions don't lose their memories like they did with Hawkmoth, and note that she sounds soft and quiet, and delicate. She never demands anything, and she feels like a friend who's letting them borrow her power to do what they need to do, but, easier.

Doctors and Nurses find that, being bestowed with a power grants them to operate with better accuracy or with steadier hands, or they're capable of clotting and healing deathly wounds with mysterious powers. Some Akuma are capable of healing life-threatening illnesses or diseases, or at least helping people cope with the pain.

Firefighters find themselves with the power to spring water from their fingertips or to smother fire with the flick of their hands. Some can suddenly carry six people at a time without breaking a sweat to evacuate a house.

Retail workers in the middle of getting robbed suddenly have the power to fight back. People being kidnapped are suddenly granted the power to escape. Victims have a butterfly bond to them and they find the strength to stand up to their abusers and/or escape their clutches.

Marinette works very hard as Nekydallon. She can hear Paris' woes, and doesn't hesitate to try and assist whenever she can. The rest of Paris sees butterflies as a good omen for the most part, though some are deeply suspicious. However as a whole, its the black cat and ladybug that people are most suspicious of, as they hear a lot of talk but don't see results like with Neky.

[sssammich]

fic: let there be another day

inspired by this fantastically angsty gifset of a supercorp AU. happy supercorp sunday yall

thanks x

---

The days transform steadily, selfishly, into weeks. Until the weeks have amounted to six months of nothing. Nothing between them but a phantom line of what they’d been to each other, once upon a time.

There is a crater in Lena’s heart, a botched excavation of the way she’d willed herself to forget Kara, to protect the two of them from the ruthlessness of her family. So she’d cored herself first, hoping to beat her brother and mother to the punch. Yet Kara had dug herself further into her heart, straight into her marrow. 

So she failed, in the end, to rid herself of the woman she’d loved with her whole being. 

But it’s gotten easier, in a way, existing in this reality where she had to deny herself the chance for happiness if it meant her happiness could live. 

Her family has continued to terrorize her, but she’s acclimated. Expected it, really. Their efforts of trying to eliminate the few people who have been able to reach the fortress of her heart have now since changed to recruiting her into the fold of the family business. 

She now only functions to keep L-Corp as an entity of good despite her family’s best attempts at compromising her work. It’s fine, because she has accepted that her work will be her life. Her love—her grief—has become the shape of late nights in front of her computer, of half-filled decanters as she oversees expense reports, of dry-cleaned power suits and a lethal red lipstick as armor worn in superfluous business meetings. 

It’s worth it, she reasons, when she catches sight of Supergirl zooming past her window to save the day once more. 

—

Lena should have known that Lex and Lillian are simply biding their time until they strike. The last couple of months of relative quiet was not a sign of reprieve. So when the glass of her office doors break and splinter into tiny crystalline pieces, her heart aches not in fear, but in disappointment. 

She’s never had a death wish and would never wish this hurt upon herself, but the amount of threats to her life has surpassed her age. She thinks that maybe if both Lex and Lillian simply just got it over with, that she can get some goddamn rest. But she knows why she fights and why she keeps going. If only to spite her family, if only so that her sacrifice isn’t in vain. 

Another explosion erupts and throws Lena partway across her office, her head hitting the corner of her desk with a thud. She opens her eyes and her vision blurs, her head throbbing with pain, her body tense and sore all at once. Distantly, she can hear the fire alarm go off just as the sprinklers start shooting off water and flooding her office. 

She attempts to stand and find an exit, but her body betrays her intentions, buckling under her weight as she’s sprayed with water all around her. She falls onto her knees and subjects herself to crawling towards the exit with only but reckless determination and an almost-extinguished hope that she will make it out of this alive. 

Before she can take another step forward, there’s a whooshing sound that fills her already ringing ears and suddenly, warmth envelopes her. 

She sighs in resignation and gratitude when she feels the familiar weight around her. Lena knows before she opens her eyes what has engulfed her so safely, so securely. It cuts her heart just as it heals it, and she is in a loop of pain and joy. 

She wants to open her eyes, truly, to look into ocean eyes and a field of golden grass. But she is in pain and she is hurting. Her only course of action is to keep her eyes closed as strong arms grab hold of her—gently, always so gently—and whisks her out of her now compromised and ruined office. 

—

When she comes to, she finds herself in a secluded and private examination room of the National City Hospital, discretion of the highest priority as a prominent public figure. It’s one she’s been in before, from a past attempt at her life. It’s almost something like a comfort, this familiar space that has seen her bruises, cuts, and scrapes. 

The door swings open and she hears Kara behind her begin to make her exit. She doesn’t look up but when she catches sight of the red cape just by the bed, she holds up a hand and stops the movement altogether. 

She only lets go when the doctor looks down from her clipboard and settles on the rolling stool, the creak of the leather as she rolls closer to Lena. 

She allows the doctor to do what she does best, intently listening to the sound of the squeaking stool and the crinkling of the paper of the examination bed as doctor works.  

A mild concussion, some cuts and bruises. It could have been worse, she’s told. It always could have been worse and she wants to yell at Dr. Shapiro that this feels pretty close to the worst. Still, she listens carefully as her doctor explains how fortunate she is for surviving after the second and third explosions completely decimating her office. 

“Third explosion?” she asks, this information brand new to her. 

“Mm,” the doctor hums. “The second blast was the reason for your concussion, but according to reports, the third blast was close to you and would have knocked you prone and done serious damage had you not found cover.” 

Lena tries very hard not to twist her aching body and look over her shoulder. 

“Thank you, Doctor.” 

The doctor looks at her meaningfully before glancing over Lena’s right shoulder and placing a hand on hers, squeezing, and then letting go. 

The door closes with a quiet click, but instead of an exhaled deep breath, she holds herself tense. She shuts her eyes and listens to the way the superhero makes just enough noise so Lena knows where she is. First, from the chair she’d been occupying, then the sound of boots against the linoleum flooring, then the swish of the cape as it catches against the corner of the examination bed and back down again. 

“Where can I take you?” 

She opens her eyes to the setting sun, to saltwater ocean, to a small smile she hasn’t allowed herself to witness in six months. 

She doesn’t know what’s safest, what her family is planning, what the total damage is. She needs her phone, she needs access to her company, she needs—

“Can I go with you?” is what she says. 

Kara studies her, like the horizon staring back, and nods. She opens her hand, the thumb loop of her suit wrapping around her palm, and offers it to Lena. 

She takes it, sliding her unsteady hand in place and breathes when Kara clasps their hands together. 

—

Kara’s apartment smells the exact same. 

She does not comment on this, though it’s the most prevalent thought in her mind. Kara lets her walk in first, speeding to the lamps and switching them on until the apartment is bathed in faint golden light. Fitting. 

“Get cleaned up. I’ll have some spare clothes for you right outside the bathroom.” Kara passes her a towel, and she hugs it to her chest. 

The water scalds her skin, stings the open scratches and cuts. And she revels in it, her alabaster skin reddening under the downpour of it. She savors it until the shower sputters a little and the hot water becomes tepid then becomes cold. She squeals and jumps away, hitting herself against the side of the shower stall and knocking half of the soaps and hair products off the shelf. 

Kara is there in an instant, opening the door and getting soaked herself, trying to protect her. 

Naked and broken, she looks up to the setting sun that is Kara’s concerned face, and then she starts laughing. 

“I—the hot water ran out.” 

Kara exhales, that cold water matting down her hair on her forehead as she protects Lena from the downpour. “Sorry, I never did call the landlord about it.” 

She turns off the water behind her and steps out of the shower stall to pick up Lena’s towel for her. She opens the towel and turns away. 

You’ve seen it all before, she wants to say, but doesn’t. Instead, she takes the towel and wraps it around herself, the cold beads of water from her hair clinging to her neck, her shoulder blades. 

Kara steps aside, offers her a shy smile, and leaves wordlessly. Lena listens to the way she walks around the apartment, the clattering of the plates on the table. 

She steps out and smiles when she finds spare clothes placed on a stool right outside the bathroom door. 

When she next steps out of the bathroom, she is wearing Kara’s oversized shirt with a faded cartoon drawing of National City State Fair on it and a spare set of her pajama pants that she didn’t realize she’d forgotten, she'd thought Kara would have gotten rid of. 

The spread of Chinese food on the coffee table is modest, but familiar. 

She takes a seat in the spot she once proclaimed as hers, and accepts the plate from Kara’s grasp. They eat in silence with only the sound of the television playing on in the background. 

Kara watches her—studying her, Lena’s sure—but doesn’t say anything. She talks about her week because Lena had asked, and so she gives it to Lena. They clear their plates, then she trails after Kara to the kitchen, parking herself on the kitchen island. Kara seems to anticipate her and passes a pint of Cherry Garcia towards her with a spoon on the lid. 

“Good for concussions, I heard,” Kara offers, a twitch of a smile on her lips.  

She laughs at that, surprised, but accepts the ice cream, opening the lid and taking a spoonful. “That’s tonsillitis.” 

Kara shrugs but takes a spoonful of her own Rocky Road on the opposite side of the kitchen island. So much of right now exists superimposed to how things had been before, how their lives had been so entwined, so integrated. It is unnerving as it is comforting, and Lena accepts that for today, at least, she has to accept the disorientation. 

Eventually, “here. I charged your phone. I’d call Sam first, then Jess.”

There is distance between them, far greater than the kitchen island in front of her, and it shows itself for the first time now, here. After everything.  

“Kara, I—” 

“I need to fill Alex in on everything. Let her know you’re alright. I’ll be right outside.”  

She nods, glances at her phone and the laptop that Kara slides across the kitchen island, and watches as Kara walks out the front door. 

For a solid hour, she works through everything she can considering her mild concussion. She touches base with her assistant, with her team, and finds that they have taken care of everything for her. She sighs in relief, shuddering into her hands when Sam and Jess let her know that they have everything handled, that all they want for her is to rest, that the investigation into her family’s attempt at assassinating her might finally have some legs with some information they’d discovered during the cleanup. 

She sighs, sniffling into the back of her hand and tells them goodnight before she closes her phone and sobs into her hands, the day finally wearing her down. 

She doesn’t startle when arms wrap around her, the press of a strong body kneeling in front of her as she cries into the crook of Kara’s neck. She grabs fistfuls of Kara’s shirt as her tears soak through the cotton. 

Kara only holds onto her, rubbing her back and gently cradling Lena in her arms. Soft shushing filters through Lena’s ears and she sobs further into Kara, hoping Kara can just absorb her entirely, as if that’s the only thing that can protect her—from her family, from the world, from herself. 

Her sobs lasts and lasts, a never ending fountain of all the tears she’d shoved back in, a dam bursting now that she’s allowed herself.

—

Kara carries her to the bed, quietly ushering her under the covers just as she sits on the edge of it. 

“You saved me,” she says, her voice coming out slightly congested.  

Kara brushes her hair behind her ear. “That promise has never changed.” 

“They’re never going to stop, are they?” 

Kara shakes her head. 

“I thought by letting you g—” she huffs, turns away. “I thought I was protecting you. I was trying to do the right thing.” 

Kara grabs hold of her hand and places it on her lap, her fingers fiddling with Lena’s palm, but doesn’t quite look at her. 

“I’m afraid that the only times I will see you, I’m trying to save your life. And I—it worsens when I think that I can’t make it.” 

Lena watches Kara’s beautiful profile, the expanse of her forehead, the slope of her nose into the curves of her lips and down her jutting chin, trembling slightly in the faint light outside the bedroom curtain. Then she sees the bob of Kara’s throat, a single tear falling into the center of her palm. 

Kara’s facing her now, and Lena brings up her other hand to wipe Kara’s cheek. 

“I missed you, Lena. And I don’t know what I will do if I can’t make it to you in time, I—” 

This time, it’s Lena who pulls her close, wrapping the arm that Kara’s been focusing on around her front as she cradles Kara in her arms. “I’m sorry, darling,” she says, voice hoarse. “I’m sorry.” 

Kara then turns in her arms and they embrace one another, both hiding in each other. 

The tears stain and soak her neck, but she lets it, welcoming Kara’s weight after months of being so untethered. 

“Please, just come back to me,” Kara says into her skin, muffled words that hold so much promise. “Let me take care of you. Let me protect you,” 

Lena pulls back slightly. “You’d still—you’d still want me?” 

“Let me love you again, Lena.” 

Unable to hold her own tears back, Lena pushes forward until their lips meet. She angles her head and Kara kisses her back, the pair of them holding each other. 

There is an ache to their reunion, but there is healing, too. And Lena remembers, unbidden, Dr. Shapiro’s words. It could have been worse, she’d heard. 

But Lena wants it to be better. She deserves at least that, for all of her troubles, and if her family will aim for her and all that she loves, then she can’t hide herself in the shadows. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I love you.”

Tomorrow, she thinks, after the whispered declarations and the promises of more, of better, of a new day. Together. 

“I’m here. I’m here. I love you, too. I’m here.” 

[nixmori]

Astarion x Wren

The Lovers Tarot: upright

A fun pass time for me is always thinking which tarot card fits the characters at different parts of the story, and the primary themes that govern them.

Wren (my primary Tav) is the reversed lovers card for much of her early story/game. She longs for connection but is met with a cold, detached world, resulting in mental imbalance and the absence of self-love. She’s lonely and insecure, fearing rejection. Her closest relationship up until the events of the game was with her patron—the capricious (but not malicious) Archfey Kol. He offered her power and the pretense of connection, but never anything real.

For Astarion, while I think another card represents himself (I’m keeping that to myself because I have another art planned around it!) I feel his struggle aligns well with the devil card. He is, of course, more than figuratively shackled to Cazador, but also to the years of abuse, trauma, and his own demons born of that time. The shackles depicted in that card are loose—showing they can be broken should the person choose to be free of their demons.

The lovers and the devil cards are mirrors of one another. The lovers shows security and balance, but also the temptation of the fruit and the snake that could lead to back down the road to self destruction. Alternatively, they are a reminder of what it took to come back from that to a harmonious state.

In my interpretation of The Lovers here, I’ve retained the shackles from Astarion’s devil card. He’s chosen a new path—one where he can be true to himself. The scars will always be there, but the chains are broken. I’ve retained the forbidden fruit as Wren’s crown, with the leaves too represent the personal growth of both characters while the berries (fruit) represent the temptations that would have lead them down a very different path (which I will leave out due to spoilers!)

Fun fact, the Angel in the original card art is Raphael! Very different from everyone’s favorite demon in the game. This Raphael represents physical and emotional healing. I didn’t think an Angel would fit the aesthetics of what I wanted so I replaced him with the moon and Polaris. The first reason has to do with Astarion’s spawn ending so I won’t go into it. The second is taken from the moon card itself, where the moon reveals one’s true self. Paired with Polaris, it represents the moon’s light as a guide, as both embark on their long journey of healing. It won’t be an overnight venture—something that can be fixed by a single entity, so the moon as a guide works better in this context, I believe.

As a personal addition, Wren holds a few nerine lilies—a flower that has been associated with freedom since Ancient Greece. They also symbolize unity, and feelings straight from the heart, which felt appropriate for a relationship where both characters started as strangers to emotional intimacy. (I used to be a florist, I HAVE to have my flower symbolism)

Finally, the clouds at the bottom started life as flames, which in the og tarot card represent passion. As the art took form though, they took on the appearance of smoke/clouds. I could have made it more flame-like but I really liked how this looked, but I also think it fits the slow burn the story ended up taking. There’s a fire, somewhere—but it isn’t the most important thing here.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading my essay. I hope it was coherent!

[rineptune]

what’s left of us.

“wounds like this won’t heal easily, you know?”

“what an obstute observation—“ the hiss that erupts through his gritted teeth, claws gouging on your skin like a vice to keep himself grounded, “my dear. you’re quite the smart cookie, aren’t you?”

“don’t talk to me with that sass, asshole,” you grumbled. “someone definitely placed a stick up your ass during the early extermination—or i might just be the one to do so.”

“oh, i’d love you to try and miserably fail,” alastor smiles tightly.

“with your current state, my chances of winning just toppled over yours.”

“how ambitious, my dear, but you must be aware that even with my current handicap, you are no match for me.”

not being fond of the little exchange he had given, you applied more pressure to the wound—not entirely a wound, but rather a gash he earned from his battle with the first man himself—you’re cleaning, earning a spine-chilling static of sorts that resembled a sharp breath of discomfort from alastor.

his antlers grew, eyes resembling the same ones that stared into yours years ago, outlines of stitches over his mouth glowing to somewhat outshine the dim candle light in your office.

“don’t look at me like that,” you sigh, working your needle and thread over the gash quickly.

you don’t bring up the contract, knowing that what lies beneath the façade he showcases to the underworld is a sinner who almost got killed by something more powerful than him. a sinner that hates the reminder that he’s not as powerful as demons, and he himself made him out to be.

“you aren’t invincible,” you say. “so either you find a back door or you put yourself out of harm’s way.

and loosen up the grip, would you? people might think i’m being abused with how your claws are sinking into my skin.”

alastor doesn’t say anything, and the candle erupts in flames, rippling through your bookshelves, and burning the photo of you and him from way before. when the fire ceases, your indifference to the whole outburst doesn’t affect how you patch him up. finally.

“...what’re you implying, hm?” alastor asks.

“you have to come to terms with the fact that you’re no longer an entity of carnage.”

you stood up, carrying your sewing kit with you.

“what will you live for knowing that you’re not as strong as you used to be? that you humiliated yourself and crawled back here when you specifically told me that you’d rip my head in our next meeting,” you shook your head. “figure your second life out, al.”

those words echo in alastor’s mind, like an endless loop in time, even as he makes his way back to the hotel with his showcasing smile. oh, how he wished he had ended your life right then and there.

but he couldn’t.

[sparrow-bear]

Okay so here’s the thing that gets me about Good Omens (s2 in particular):

Earth and humanity are (as far as we know) meant to exist so that heaven and hell have a playing field to best one another, initially by seeing who can exert their influence on humans most and ultimately as a battleground for their war. Humans themselves are kinda inconsequential.

But! Anyone from either side who comes to earth with even a *skerrick* of curiosity immediately starts to fall for the emergent properties of humanity- the music, the food, the art, the shades of grey that simply do not exist in heaven or hell. We see this in Aziraphale and Crowley who have found ways to keep their positions on earth for 6000 years yes, but we see it even more in Beelzebub and Gabriel, who have been to earth many times but only started to *see* it for the first time together, and in Muriel who we are told has never been to Earth before and is overcome with excitement seemingly within seconds of arriving.

There is something so deliciously pure and healing about this story that centres not just love between individuals being the most powerful thing in the universe, but also the simple love of *being alive*. It’s so potent that celestial/demonic powers succumb to the joy of living the *moment* they open themselves up to it. To see these timeless entities stumbling together through human history interacting with and delighting at, not humans themselves so much but the things that they have created. To know that the joy they find in these human constructs is literally changing the very fabric of who they are in ways that they clearly find freeing and deeply fulfilling. That they would literally rather live their quaint little lives on earth, drinking and eating their fill and experiencing human creations, than fulfil their purpose in some cosmic destiny. That they’ll fight to protect it so fiercely even though they’ve been told it’s destruction is preordained.

It’s wild that a story that doesn’t have human characters at it’s centre (in the show anyway), so expertly conveys the joy of being human. Whether you believe humanity exists for a purpose or not, we are simply silly little creatures with an overactive pleasure drive making things that are infinitely more complex than the sum of their parts.

Idk man, it’s the absolute reverence for simple contentment this story holds above all else that gives me life (especially in contrast to its irreverence of Christian morality). I liked season 1 a lot but season 2 soothed some deep hurt in my heart and I’m just so grateful it exists.

[vonev]

Hey there! Can you do a Miguel x spiderwoman reader where during a mission Miguel accidentally hurts you pretty badly while trying to get you out of the way of the anomaly, leaving you in a medically induced coma for a couple days while you heal? I wanna see an incredibly gentle, guilt-ridden Miggy visiting you when you wake up and treating you like you’re made of glass

Calling (just to save you, I'd give all of me)

Miguel O'Hara x reader Oneshot

Words: 6.06k (yeah i know)

Warnings: Graphics depictions of Violence, Angst, Blood and Violence.

Summary:

A mission gone wrong, some crying, more suffering, rocky relationships (emphasis on the rocky part)

And after all of it, you prevailed. With him.

Tl;dr: Miguel is a crybaby

It was a normal Tuesday night at the headquarters. 11 pm to be exact.

God knows why you stayed as long as you did—having to juggle missions upon missions the entire week because Miguel decided to loosely throw them at you.

Capturing what seemed like an endless sea of anomalies.

“You’re our most capable.” He had said, not even facing you when he once again sent you off on another job to fend for yourself. 

Trying to ask to be replaced was met with a sounding “No.” from the big guy himself, so you stopped trying altogether.

Less questions, more work.

Even if the side of your ribs were bruised from the last encounter with a previous anomaly.

Whatever. Bringing your injury up would just have you end up being demeaned and insulted like a school kid who skipped last week’s homework. At least that was what you assumed.

You grew tired of it eventually, wanting to have more than 6 hours of sleep per day and being able to actually live your life—the birthday cake for a friend sat comfortably inside the fridge of your apartment lingers on your mind as you swung through the familiar sight of the city; another rendition of New York, another variant of an anomaly. 

That wasn’t to say you didn’t enjoy the thrill and adrenaline that came with the job—no, you loved it. No one ever told you how fun being a superhero can be (aside from the decades of trauma you had to go through) and being able to propel yourself into the air with webs as the people below you gawked at your presence. 

The New York breeze hit your figure like a welcomed embrace, the moon winked at you behind fading beds of clouds. You continue slingshotting yourself down the streets, deja-vu splashed in your face with how eerily similar the roads were to the ones back home; shaking your head, you let out a soft sigh and relish in the cold night’s wind. 

Today’s mission: an unknown entity that plagued Earth 1610, the only information you were given via a loosely thrown together email from Miguel was that the entity could possess powers greater than we all understood—but with a limited amount of time, you would (hopefully) capture it just in time before it discovered its full potential. 

You’d think with how smart the boss-man was, he wouldn’t send a sleep-deprived Spider into such missions with how severe things could turn if everything went wrong.

“I’ll send him an email to complain later, for sure.” You promised yourself; because you were supposed to do just that days ago when tasks started rolling in for you without breaks.

Solo-tasks, might you add.

A cherry on top of the already spoiled cake, salt on the wound, a slap to the face. You grunted, and an alarm sounding from nearby caught you by surprise amidst the (somewhat) quiet of the city. In the snap of a finger, you flung yourself in a different direction, changing the tides in the waves while the wind that hit your face came to a halt once you landed on a roof belonging to a rather tall building. 

The viewing angle from above gave you a clear look into what had transpired underneath.

You squint, arms folded neatly in between your thighs as you crouched over the ledge of the building; from what you could see, nothing was amiss—everything looked to be in place. Letting out an annoyed scoff, you were about to turn on your tail before the ear-piercing sound of glass shattering into pieces hit your eardrums. 

You immediately snapped around, and panic ensued when the people on the streets started screaming, running amok like wild animals scattering away into their safe spaces. You, on the other hand, now have to clean up the mess—you had no clue where this universe’s Spiderman was, nor did anyone brief you on it.

Nonetheless you approached the bust-up shop with a wavy heart, praying to something out there that there weren’t any critically injured persons. As you stalked near the front of the shop, you could hear loud banters inside; curious, you stare into the messy excuse for an interior: broken decors, smashed up shelvings, and items sprawled out across the floor inside.

You took the opportunity and shot yourself up to the ceiling, both your soles and fingertips clutching onto the surface, cautiously crawling further into the shop. 

“Please—” a voice yelled out, “Just let me steal your ATM machine!”

Your lips part, dumbfounded.

“No! Ey! Get away from—” You finally managed to grasp the scene that played out in front of you.

The store manager was running around with a bat in his hands, and the other person that seemed to be wearing a costume with black spots, a jean jacket slung over his shoulders and a rather cute bucket hat. To your surprise, the man evaded the attack when a black hole had been summoned under the manager’s feet, causing him to fall into the portal and out of another one…

…Right above you.

You yelped at the sudden contact on your back, the manager’s weight had you both falling face first into the shards-filled floor; his body cushioned by yours.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” 

The man behind you rolled off, allowing you to take a step and collect yourself as you slowly stood up. Debris started filling up your senses, and the pain from having been cut by thousands of glass shards made you wince in response. You pushed it all down, needing to finish the job as soon as possible so you could flee from more missions when you go back to the headquarters.

You even considered retiring from your spot in the team.

Speaking of spots…

You peered up, eyes catching onto the odd appearance of the man in front of you, who was still attempting to find a way to escape with the ATM. If you hadn’t been as irritated and grumpy as you were, you’d have found the situation hilarious.

“You gotta let that go, big man.” He whipped his head around, eyes darting around before locking in on you. “I’m sorry, I can’t—wait, you look different from my Spiderman.” His head tilted in confusion; you only rolled your eyes in retort, not wanting to drag your already long day out. Webs shot out of your wrists, launching them toward the direction of his foot.

Watching in disbelief as another hole appeared right where his foot would’ve been, the webs flinging into the black void and you felt the substance land on your back, knocking your balance forward.

“What the,” confused, you feel around for it, your fingers finding the source, tracing the substance behind you. “How did you fucking do that?” You glared him down, seeing his stature falter and hands thrown up into the air in defense. 

“Whoa whoa, language!” He wagged a finger at you, giving you his head shake of disapproval. 

“Shut up.”

“That’s just plain rude, young lady—hold on, you’re a lady right?” Your eye twitched in annoyance. 

“Has anyone ever said you’re way too chatty?” 

He was fidgeting with his hands, looking away and feeling nervous, unsure of how to respond to your jab. Before he could get another word out, the bottom of your feet connected with his chest, sending his body back against the wall with a loud ‘thud’ watching as he fell on his backside.

“Oof.”

 He let out a soft grunt, rubbing the sore spot on his butt; right before you did a chain-attack, he caught your foot with another one of his black holes, your foot now appearing on the other side of the store and out of sight.

“That wasn’t very nice. Listen, I just need some money, let me go and—” He threw the ATM onto a pile of cans and started rolling it out of your way, pushing the huge machine as fast as he could. Pulling back your foot in time, your calf connected with his face, making him trip over the cans comically with his arms flailing in the air.

You quickly reached down to fetch your trap to secure your win.

That would be too easy, though. 

Side-stepping a portal of void that almost ate you up, you winced at the pain that shot through your ribs due to your rapid movements. Biting through the pain, you maneuvered to where his body laid and tackled him to the ground once more when he tried to stand up; from then on, it was a cat fight. With you trying to get him detained and him attempting to pry you off of him.

Suddenly, another hole manifested beneath the two of you, watching in horror as you both fell through and landed harshly on top of the rooftop you originally occupied prior; the back of your head collided into the concrete ground; a poor excuse for a cushion.

It fucking hurt.

You were pretty sure you smelled blood.

He tried to get up, but you tumbled the two of you near the ledge of the building; in the midst of all the actions, he found dominance over you when he had your upper body hanging off the ledge with his grip on the collar of your suit. Blood thumped through your eardrums along with the loud horns of traffic, your heart racing in a million miles, if anyone looked up, they'd think you were insane for getting yourself in the situation. 

Maybe you are. 

Call for backup.

It would be so easy; the gizmo hugged your wrist, just one push of a button and someone will be here—

Too late, his grip on you wavered and you plummet into the air.

Fuck.

You quickly attempt to shoot more webs to find purchase on something, anything. 

But terror washed over you the second you realized you had conveniently run out of webbing fuel—being the dumbass you were, you had completely forgotten to get it refilled before the mission at the station back in headquarters.

Closing your eyes, you braced yourself for the impact; your body going limp to soften the blow.

You let out a loud yelp when something flew out of the air beside you and clashed against your body, but you don’t feel the shock at the contact—instead, the warmth of a large arm wrapped around your midsection and you feel the cold wind whiplash you.

Opening your eyes, you were (pleasantly) surprised to find that Miguel caught you just in-time, right before you could suffer any more blunt injuries. You almost cried at the sight of him, his name teased the tip of your tongue, wanting to wrap your arms around him for a hug; you pulled yourself back just in time before you could react on your impulse.

You were still mad at Miguel, you have to act like it.

Before you know it, he came to a halt around a corner into an alleyway and swung down to place you down gently on the ground, your feet now free from the feeling of being dangled in the air. His eyes flickered over your face, then down your body; his arm still pressed into your waist as he squeezed your flesh out of instinct. 

Bad move, the squeeze, no matter how gentle, pressed into your bruised rib. The pain sending a wave of shocks throughout your torso, you immediately pushed him away with a small hiss. You couldn’t see it, but hurt flashed through his eyes when you forced yourself out of his grip, his arm falling back to his side; unknowing of its purpose.

He wouldn’t willingly admit it, but the rare moments he would get to feel the heat of your body against him sent him to heaven: like that one time your shoulder pressed into his at the cafeteria, the times your naked fingers would brush over his skin, when your back used to press up on his during missions back in the days he went with you. Sinfully, he would recall that specific time your chest pushed into his torso during a stealth mission, the temptation to take you right there and then a devilish thought that circled his mind.

(Don’t ask what he had done in the shower after the mission debrief.)

That was part of the reason he had stopped frequenting jobs with you, even when you came into his office and invited him; you were met with rejections after rejections, soon enough, he noticed that you stopped trying—and the painful gnaw at his chest reminded him of your growing distant attitude with him, too. Miguel refused to let his personal life interfere with his business, and the last person he would want to hurt was you. 

Unknowingly, he had done exactly that whenever he would gradually push your presence away.

Having meals weren’t the same anymore, not when you stopped showing up to his office everyday with his favorite food like a routine, he’d eat less and less as the days passed by; without you there to continuously pester him, he found himself reverting back to his old habits—working after late hours, not sleeping enough, not eating enough, barely talking to anyone unless absolutely necessary. 

He had came to the realization that somehow, long ago, your presence had become such a grounding part of his life; the gentle yet persistent reminder that he deserved love and care too, to stop hogging all the responsibilities alone and share his burden with someone who he can trust, and it all manifested into you.

Miguel recognized he royally fucked up when you both barely see each other face-to-face anymore, you stopped showing up to debriefings, the only time he’d get to remotely speak to you was when he sent you off to missions.

He knew he was harsh, yes, but he fully believed in your capability to handle yourself—but while he was relentless, he still cared. 

Hence why he arrived and interjected your mission, wanting to extend a helping hand.

“Fuck—what are you doing here?!” You shouted over the loud traffic, emotions taking control of your mind, before Miguel could protest, screams broke out from beside you both. “Shit, let’s get this over with, big man.” 

You paused, momentarily forgotten that your webbings ran out of fuel and mentally slapped yourself in the face.

As if he read your mind, he fished out a tube from behind him and threw it your way. You caught it just in time and practically rushed to throw the lid off, tipping the mouth over to allow the liquid flow into the web gadget integrated into your suit. You threw a mumbled “thanks” his way and chucked the tube out of sight.

“Come on,” you nod toward the opening of the alleyway with an arm raised and pull yourself upward with your web. 

It was supposed to be an easy job: brawl with the anomaly, win the brawl, capture it.

But this one was starting to grate your nerves—and you were sure Miguel felt the same too, you could sense the rage radiating off of his huge stature like sirens; chasing down the guy who had re-introduced himself as the Spot when you caught up with him earlier, unintentionally finding himself falling in and out of accidental portals he materialized. 

“Stop running!” Yelling, you proceeded to jump into the portal he went through, he was always barely a hair away; yet as clumsy as he was, managed to get away every single time.  

“Stop chasing me!” Spot shouted back, tripping over the back of his foot and almost falling into one of the portals entirely. 

He managed to barely swerve out of the way when Miguel lunged at him from behind, his claws swooping in the air where Spot used to be. It became a constant back-and-forth; you would shoot yourself closer to him and Miguel would come from his back, essentially cornering him, then Spot would narrowly escape; rinse and repeat. Exhaustion crept up on you eventually, nagging the back of your mind as you tapped into your adrenaline to stay awake and alerted of your surroundings. 

Miguel noticed it, too, and he went even harder—the intensity of his ferocity grew when he realized he had to end things soon before someone gets injured; he prayed to God it wouldn’t be you. 

Somehow, more portals had opened up, and all you could do was avoid falling into them; the possibility of coming face first into the asphalt roads were too high for you to take the chance. Miguel almost got caught in one; hardly dodging a portal that conjured on the wall he stuck to. But unlike you, he was willing to test out his theory, reeling his body back to prepare launching himself into the portal. And he did just that—his reward? A high-five of his face with another set of walls. 

He grunted, out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted you latching onto Spot’s back; desperately trying to push him down onto a solid surface. You both spun into another portal and crashed on a different rooftop, Miguel rushed over with claws ravaging the innocent bricks he crawled on; when he went up, he saw the two of you gasping for air on the ground. 

You clutched the side of your rib, an indescribable amount of pain overtook your senses; you were pretty sure your ankle was broken when it was caught on a pole. Spot got up earlier than you, and was about to speed off before he felt a large hand tugging at the back of his shirt. 

It all happened so fast: reeling in a punch, the adrenaline pumping in Miguel’s veins, Spot’s utter shock at the face of Death himself, the supposed impact of the fist with the other’s face…

…Only for the force to be directed to you in the heat of the moment when a portal happened to manifest where Spot’s face would’ve been.

It was an accident, really, an unintentional line of actions from Spot— he was way too out of it when he figured he was about to go through his final moment; his portals shot out in panic, lucky for him, it was the reason he evaded Miguel’s death fist.

Unlucky for you, the other end of the portal had been right in front of you the whole time; yet in the midst of you processing your surroundings, you hadn’t realized quicker that your senses were screaming for you to dodge out of the way.

The conclusion? You, having just been punched in your guts, falling down a building amongst the New York you shouldn’t have stepped a foot in if you knew the outcome at all. The gust of wind pumped in your ears as you fell, and fell.

No worries—you’ve got your handy-dandy webs, right? 

Oh how you wished you hadn’t been wrong.

Miguel had snatched a random refill off of his own shelf when he was about to depart, not bothering to check for its content after his recent use; just shy of a quarter, barely enough to last an average Spider’s fill an hour of webbing. In his defense, he had been distraught when Lyla popped in earlier to warn him of your vitals: most specifically your injuries. He would’ve never sent you out in the first place if he knew you suffered from broken ribs.

But all you knew was that you somehow fucked yourself over.

Panic ensued.

And now, you suffered the consequences of his actions.

“Miguel!” A call for help; he was your last hope.

The fall wasn’t a particularly long one, and you normally would breeze through the impact and pain like a champ—except you have never fell from a building with ribs that squeezed your organs tight, ankle that would most likely not support your landing even if you tried, the adrenaline you lived off of now benched on the side leaving you stranded for some form of strength to pull yourself together in the span of a few seconds.

Your shoulder hit the ground first, then your head; the harsh impact created a string of reactions to your already abused body: pain shooting up your nerves, the corners of your eyes dimming despite the bright lights flashing around you.

Unbeknownst to the three of you, policemen started showing up once someone reported a supposed break-in at the shop you investigated; the sound of blaring sirens filled your eardrums like honey whilst the flashing of red and blue assaulted your blurry sight. 

Barely able to distinguish what was happening in front, you attempted to prop yourself up on your elbow; but the more you tried, the more lights started diminishing in your vision. Breathing has never felt so difficult, either.

Miguel was a step too late when he came to you; after having realized what had occurred, he dropped Spot in an instant like a hot potato, prioritizing saving you instead of proceeding with the mission’s objective. He was aware of the policemen being present at the scene when they started noticing your slumped body in the middle of the road, crowding together to watch as you struggled to lift yourself up—they all stood and observed, no one reached out to help, none.

He was by your side right away, his one hand supporting the weight of your head while the other clutching at the hem of your mask, lifting it over your eyes.

His hand felt…wet.

As if things couldn’t possibly get worse: he watched the stiff expression on your face contorted with pain, you seemed to have recognized him as you slowly reached a weak arm out to caress his face, your thumb gently glossing over his cheekbone, your touches light like feathers. His mask concealed the despair in his features, the hues of red and blues still shone on his back as everyone else stayed aside and spectated. 

Your hand soon dropped to your side, unmoving, your head now heavier than ever in his hand.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. 

Miguel held your small, delicate hand into his, the tears teasing the corner of his eye as he watched your life slipped by those eyes of yours he’d grown to adore.

-

“You can’t live like this, Miguel.” 

Lyla crossed her arms over her chest, trailing Miguel’s tiny movements on the desk. His fingers delicately move across the keys on the keyboard, imputing password after password for locked files. 

“Seriously,” Lyla sighed, rubbing her temple. “You’re starting to worry me.” 

“Nothing to worry about, Lyla, get me the decoded files from yesterday.” Miguel ignored her pestering, choosing to focus on his work and his work only.

That was his routine for the past 5 days or so.

After the entire slip-up in Earth 1610, Miguel had been busting his ass to hunt down the anomaly for every hour he was awake; granted, he did take care of other responsibilities too—babysitting Mayday on Monday, depatching teams to bring back more anomalies, and visiting you every day. 

And also dealing with that kid he found out to be the Spider-man from Earth-1610.

He hadn’t missed a single day of visiting you, who still laid in the hospital bed at the infirmary he cleared out for you. 

Everyday. On the clock. 5 am when he woke up, when lunchtime struck, and in the late hours of night when he should be spending on getting enough rest.

Lyla had been there through it all, watching Miguel’s tormented back every single minute he was awake as he continuously starved himself off of the bare minimums. 

Food, water, sleep, you name it all. 

And as his assistant, his well-being was her number one priority—hence the constant pestering that would be swatted away, food that went cold despite Peter having brought them in hours ago upon Lyla’s request and his growing concern for his friend in the chair. Jess’s occasional visits to check up on Miguel, wondering if the day she stepped in would be the day she would see his lifeless body on the desk with how much neglect he reflected on himself. Even the new recruits dropped in to say hello, just to see that he was doing…okay in his book: which was not okay in everyone else’s.

Everyone was worried. 

About you, of course, and him too.

The situation had clearly taken a heavy toll on him.

But Lyla understood more than anyone else that it wasn’t because of his work, his dwelling traumatic past, or how he barely had any rest for the past 120 hours. 

No one else knew of his infatuation with you except for her—and that was only because she snooped through his things, finding the little knit-knacks he kept from all those times you came and dropped it off: the tiny Miguel plushie you made when you impulsively decided to take up knitting that one time, the shirt of yours you had forgotten to take back when you visited his office at late hours, soaked from the rain outside and sneezing everywhere. 

“Hey Mig—“ sneeze. “I came to see y—“ sneeze. “I—“ and you sneezed. 

“For the love of God,” Miguel turned around, seeing your soaked clothes that cling to your body, and having to turn away for just a tiny moment to compost himself when he caught sight of your curves. 

Groaning, he pulled out one of his drawers and shuffled through and fished out a new shirt—undoubtedly his with how large it was. 

His shirt was a sight on you, fitting perfectly yet still draping over your thighs just slightly when you went to get changed. 

The image of you that night burned into his head, forever engraved in his brain. 

Then there was the polaroid picture of the two of you when you had forced Miguel to “take a selfie with me!” when you picked up a weirdly shaped camera from a thrift store in your universe (something something you saying to be smart and conserve money). “It’s called InstaX, it—here, let me show you” and snapped a picture. 

In the picture, his expression was one of annoyance, and you were squeezed against his shoulder with a toothy grin on your face. 

Lyla saw how Miguel would come back with tiny frames that he thought would frame the film perfectly, but ultimately was defeated when he decided to just stick it in-between the pages of his files labeled: Classified.

She was the only one ever to know the content inside: mostly pictures of Gabriella’s (poor) baking, first day at school, when Gabriella won her first competitive soccer match; and then there was you.

She knew how important you were to him; yet to her complete and utter confusion, Miguel always kept to himself about his little (big) crush—even though she could clearly tell you were just as interested as he was, too. 

He was the densest man you had the pleasure of knowing. 

He never made a move; and now, he might never get another chance to.

Now you were reduced to a sitting duck, once a shell of what you were; your body laid in the bed he frequented more than his own, the lively demeanor that you carried with you before turned into a tune of stable heartbeats beeping from the machinery installed next to you: the only indicator you were still alive. 

Guilt was the only thing he knew for a while; when he’d step into the shower as the cold water bit the skin of his back, like he was willingly punishing himself for allowing that incident to happen. 

Everywhere he went, whatever he did, he was only reminded of your face.

“If only I had been there sooner.”  

He’d say to himself while he peered down at your figure, not there but, there. You were barely hanging, and part of him knew that it was your determination to fight through whatever battle was going on inside your head during the coma. 

“Por favor,” his hand held yours, careful to avoid the IV’s that pricked your skin, forehead sticky with sweat after having just come back from a specifically tough mission that day.

“Concédeme este deseo.” 

He would whisper sweet-nothings to you, praying to himself at night by your bedside that you’d wake up one of these days with that smile he yearned for. And for someone to finally share the extra empanadas he would always bring in, to hope that one day, you’d get to share this joy with him. 

The joy of eating together again.

So imagine his surprise when he walked into your room tonight, and found you sat up with the metal frame supporting your back. 

You were awake.

And most importantly, you were alive. 

He had never sprinted so fast in his life; the warm pack of empanadas he brought from the cafeteria drop to the floor, the gentle ‘thud’ catching your zoned out self by complete surprise, your face softened once your gaze landed on Miguel; who was frantically patting your face and checking your vitals to confirm that yes, you are here. 

Your hand reached up to palm his that lingered on your cheek, his eyes finally settled on you, slowly taking in the fact that you were now right there in front of him. 

“Miguel,” a small knowing smile tugged at your lips, your eyes the most gentle he’d ever seen. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”

He was still so afraid, so afraid that you would just slip by his fingers again; so he held onto you for dear life, fingers gripping your one cheek and hand with the others. 

“Estoy tan contenta de que estés aquí,” You whispered. 

A soft quiver of his lips; barely there—that was when the dam broke, and his tears started flowing down his sullen cheeks. 

You panicked, wondering if you had butchered your Spanish so bad you shamed him to tears.

“I’m…I’m sorry?” You tilt your head in confusion and worry. Miguel only shook his head, a small chuckle emitted from him; as if he knew what you had been thinking. 

“Don’t be sorry, silly.” He looked up at you with those earnest eyes of his; ones that melt your heart and warm your soul. You’d taken a liking to him early on; though you weren’t sure when it started, only where it started: during a mission, when the two of you grew physically close, so close.

His breaths fanning down your face, your breathing grew heavy with each and every second; that was when you knew you were in too deep. 

You would know it’d take heaven and hell to pull you apart from this man. 

There he kneeled, lips on the back of your hand as his thumb gently caressed your cheekbone, enjoying the way hues of red spread out on your cheeks. 

There was no way of escaping it now: the pent up tension of a confession teasing the air around you both, and soon, one of you was bound to crack.

“I have something to tell you—“

“I have something to say—“

Only that you both did it at once, together.

Miguel stared at you, lips slightly parted with the ghost of his words and eyes widened, then he cracked into a fit of roaring laughter—and you joined in.

Laughter filled what was once a room only occupied by the sound of your heartbeats on the machine, the two of you clutched each other’s hand, the high soon dying down to mere giggles; as if you two were high-school sweethearts with muffled chuckles thrown at each other in the back of the class. 

You two were in your own little world, a bubble that secured around your bodies, forever molding the shape of what once was and what will be. 

Wiping away the happy tear in your eye, you stared at Miguel’s devilishly handsome face, and the gorgeous smile you oh-so-rarely get the privilege of seeing. The muted rhythm of his chest rising and falling, in sync to yours, like two lovers on the dance floor—not even the sky could stop your love for each other. 

“I love you.” 

You blurted out; sure, you were 98% certain Miguel reciprocated your feelings, but that small node of anxiety still tugged at the back of your mind, terrified that you misunderstood his gestures all these times.

But wouldn’t the words he whispered to you during your sleep be all washed away if that was true? 

It was a risk, and you took it; it was now or never. 

“I—“ Miguel stammered, his heart screaming at him to just lean in and—

—kiss you.

His lips were nothing like you’d ever imagine; it was all the best parts multiplied by infinity: soft, full of all the love he had to give, and passionate. 

The kiss lasted for what felt like eternity—part of you wished it did, and you’d be content to die like this, your lips forever engraved on his. 

Miguel swore he heard the choir sung to him, albeit with crooked notes; but maybe because he did.

He slowly turned around, and you, who also does the same.

His colleagues had been quietly watching all this time from behind the doors: Peter with Mayday in tow as she cooed at the sight, Jess and that motherly smile of hers—Miles, Gwen, Hobie and Pavitr all stood with heads peeking through the gap of the doors. Even Lyla was there, although she simply floated over Peter's shoulder, joining in on the choir; their mouths agape with barely harmonized tunes of a holy song slipping out of their mouths. Amateur at best, unbearable at worst. 

Pavitr carried with the vocals, as always. 

They only stopped once they realized they had been caught; thinking that you two were in too deep to notice that there were more guests coming. 

“What…are you guys doing here?” Miguel asked, his tone more of a threat than a genuine question.

“We got some food—“ Peter perked up, but was instantly cut off by Hobie.

“‘o watch some sappy romance, ‘ey boss man?” Hobie high-fived Lyla's glitchy hologram, the latter wearing a smirk too wide for her face and nodding aggressively.

“Do the shoulder trick!” Miles yelled out; Gwen looked at him in horror then back to Miguel, this time, it was her who was shaking her head aggressively while crossing her arms into a giant X shape. 

Miguel snarled at Miles, not appreciating the cheesy suggestion of a pick-up line while everything went so well for him before they all busted in. 

“Remember to host a Sangeet bro! Oh Gayatri is super good at doing Henna—“  

“Hey I wanna be the flower girl!” Gwen piped up. 

“No, Miguel told me long ago Mayday would be—“

“She’s not even old enough, Peter, can she even throw a fistful of flowers?” Gwen crossed her arms in protest.

“I’ll have you know she’s an extremely capable baby, right, Mayday?” Peter looked down, only to see that Mayday had once again been chewing on his pink robe like always, blabbering with spit foaming at her mouth. 

“Oh Christ—“ Jess chuckled at the absurdity of the sight, a hand on her hip and the other tracing soothing circles on her belly; just as Miguel had been doing it with your hand the entire time.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, a frustrated sigh knowing that the special moment between the two of you had been ruined by a bunch of nosy gremlins. 

Your hand went up to remove his hand from his face, and even with how (incredibly) noisy the room became with banters and bickering thrown around; it was all quiet with him, only the stable heartbeats of you both reached your ears.

For once, your life was complete.

Miguel glanced into your eyes, the adoration swarmed your orbs; behind them, he could see far into the future where you both exist, always beside each other like glue to a paper—with you on his hips and his on yours.

And at last, Miguel had found what he had been missing from his life. 

------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's note: Thank you so much for this suggestion Anon, it's my first one ever and I hope i did not disappoint u.u, I LOVED writing this and it got me tearing up reminiscing some fictional (sexy) mexican man. Hope u enjoyed!

ps: pls excuse the spanish i only have spanishdict as my holy grail (pls also DO correct me if needed!)

[penguinsnoot]

20 Anime You Should Watch

I’ve been getting into anime again recently, and thought I’d share some that I like! These are in no particular order. I gave very short, simplistic descriptions of each show, but I recommend looking them up for full summaries to get a better idea of what they’re about.

1) Cells at Work! (2 seasons, 22 episodes) [Comedy]

Anthropomorphic cells living in a human’s body. Focuses on a red blood cell that frequently encounters a white blood cell during dangerous bodily infestations and illnesses.

2) Kaichou wa Maid-sama! (1 season, 26 episodes) [Comedy, Romance]

Focuses on the female school president of a previously all-male school who directs and rules over them harshly. She secretly works at a maid café, which is discovered by a popular male classmate of hers. 

3) Ouran High School Host Club (1 season, 26 episodes) [Comedy, Romance]

Student Haruhi Fujioka stumbles upon a host club in the prestigious Ouran Academy. After accidentally breaking an expensive vase, she must work for the club to pay off her debt.

4) Lost Song (1 season, 12 episodes) [Music, Fantasy]

Rin is a girl from a small village who dreams of singing in the capital city. Her singing has the power to heal any wound. Rin and her brother, Al, journey to the capital when their home is attacked by soldiers hoping to capture Rin. Finis, who also has a magical voice, performs for the royal palace. She falls in love with a soldier named Henry and must hide their relationship from the prince. She and Rin have intersecting destinies and both struggle with the terrible circumstances that life throws at them. 

5) Clannad (2 seasons, 47 episodes) [Drama, Romance, Supernatural]

Delinquent Tomoya meets ill Nagisa and they become friends. Along with four other girls, Tomoya decides to help Nagisa revive the school’s drama club. He finds himself helping each girl with their respective problems and learns that life may not be as dull as he once thought. 

6) Fruits Basket (3 seasons, 64 episodes) [Drama, Romance, Supernatural]

Homeless Tohru Honda moves in with members of the mysterious Soma family. When she accidentally learns of the family’s curse of them turning into animals when embraced by a member of the opposite sex, she resolves to help them figure out how to lift the curse. 

7) Kamisama Hajimemashita (2 seasons, 25 episodes) [Comedy, Fantasy, Romance]

Offered a home by a man being attacked by a dog, Nanami is surprised to find a seemingly abandoned shrine. When she tried to leave, she is confronted by the spirits of the shrine. Tomoe, the fox spirit, leaves angrily when he realizes it is not the land god, Mikage, who has entered their home and that he instead sent a human girl as replacement. Refusing to remain homeless, Nanami decided to serve the shrine and ends up forming a sealed contract with Tomoe when she kisses him. 

8) Princess Jellyfish (1 season, 11 episodes) [Comedy, Slice-of-life]

Tsukimi is an introvert with a love for jellyfish living with other socially isolated women in Tokyo. One day, she meets someone beautiful who looks like a princess and helps her save a jellyfish from a local pet store. The beautiful princess is revealed to actually be a crossdressing man named Kuranosuke. Despite their aversion to men and socializing in general, Kuranosuke resolves to help the women become more confident in themselves. 

9) Soul Eater (1 season, 51 episodes) [Action, Comedy, Fantasy] 

Follows three sets of meisters and their weapons as they fight demons and witches to obtain the status of Death Scythes. They attend a school founded by Lord Death and learn the best ways to recognize and defeat these evil entities. 

10) Yuri on Ice (1 season, 12 episodes) [Sports, Romance]

Figure skater Yuri meets champion skater Victor, who claims he is going to be Yuri’s new mentor. Yuri accepts and goes on a difficult journey of training in the world of competitive ice skating. 

11) BNA: Brand New Animal (1 season, 12 episodes) [Action, Fantasy, Comedy]

Michiru, after becoming a newly formed beastman, travels to Anima City, a safe haven for people like her. After witnessing an explosion during a celebration, she is confronted by detective Shirou Ogami. They team up to pursue the criminals involved with the explosion and discover why Michiru has suddenly started to turn into a Tanuki after being human all her life. 

12) Japan Sinks: 2020 (1 season, 10 episodes) [Drama, Sci-fi] 

Ayumu and family’s life is turned upside down when an earthquake strikes and obliterates Japan’s structural integrity. The Mutou family must find a way to survive and get out of the country before the entirety of Japan sinks into the ocean. 

13) Toradora (1 season, 25 episodes) [Drama, Romance]

Gentle yet fierce-looking Ryuji forms an unlikely friendship with sharp-tongued and violent Taiga. They try to help one another confess to their crushes while growing closer along the way.

14) A3! (2 seasons, 24 episodes) [Drama, Slice-of-life, Comedy]

Izumi confronts the loan sharks who are after money from her father’s run-down theater. She plans to bring the theater back into the spotlight and pay of the debt with the help from an all-male acting troupe.

15) Monthly Girls’ Nozaki-kun (1 season, 12 episodes) [Comedy, Romance]

Chiyo has a crush on her schoolmate, Nozaki, and confesses to him, but he mistakes her as a fan of his manga and gives her an autograph. Saying she wants to be with him, Nozaki invites her to help him with his drawings. Chiyo hopes that by helping Nozaki, he will eventually take notice of her romantic feelings for him.

16) Wotakoi: Love is Hard for Otaku (1 season, 11 episodes) [Romance, Comedy]

Narumi and Hirotaka knew each other when they were younger and end up working in the same office. They decide to start dating, but find that their respective interests make it difficult to create romantic situations. 

17) K-On! (2 seasons, 39 episodes, 1 film) [Comedy, Slice-of-life]

Five high school students become friends and bandmates as they form the next generation of their school’s Light Music Club.

18) Violet Evergarden (1 season, 13 episodes, 2 films) [Fantasy, Drama]

Amidst working for a ghostwriting agency, past soldier Violet Evergarden learns to reconnect with her feelings while trying to understand the final words her commander left her with.

19) Given (1 season, 11 episodes, 1 film) [Drama, Romance]

Prepared to give up music for good, Ritsuka changes his mind after meeting Mafuyu. He gives Mafuyu guitar lessons in the hopes of making the other boy the lead singer for his band. 

20) Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai (1 season, 13 episodes, 1 film) [Drama, Romance, Supernatural]

Sakuta suffers from puberty-syndrome and sees a bunny girl that is invisible to others. When he meets the girl in real life, he realizes she’s going through her own problems and becomes attached to the bunny girl. 

[staytinyville]

Twin Flames

To: @flurrys-creativity

From: Your Secret Admirer! The moment I saw that HALAZIA was one of your favorite songs I just had to create this stroy from my original works. HALAZIA is my favorite song as well. It was the one that inspired the original novel in its entirety. So I wanted to make something within my universe. I do hope you love the world building. There is so much more I wish I could go over but one thing at a time!

↣ Summary: In a world where magic exists, you had creatures that were created in order to help those who were able to harness the power of the sun and the moon. Each creature has a special connection with their creators. Those created by Witches were followers of the moon. And those created by Faeries were with the sun. However for some creatures, they were connected to their creators on a much deeper meaning. 

↣ Characters/Pairing: Seonghwa x Reader

↣ Genre: Fluff, Angst

↣ AU/Trope info: Vampire!Seonghwa, Witch!Reader, Historical!au, Twin Flames!au

↣ Word Count: 6.6k

↣ Warnings: blood (It’s a vampire fic lol), revenge killing, murder (Nothing too extreme)

↣ A/N: If you guys were interested, this is actually based in my original novel. There was a lot of world building I really loved in this and the main story is based on modern time vampire/witch romance. In the book though, creatures don’t exist because they gave up their powers. This takes place way before the start of the actual book but it is a good start to the approach on why people were giving up their abilities. 

Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist

↣ Affiliates: @pirateeznet , @cultofdionysusnet , @wonderlandnet , @cromernet , @monsterfvckersunited

↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!

You couldn’t remember a time when your family didn’t have their herbal shop. It was the shop that had been in your family for generations helping those who needed it. The long line of witches you came from hailed to be some of the best in the region. In your village the only two magical families were your own–and the Jung’s, who were faeries in their own respective rights. 

There wasn’t much of a difference in what your family and Jung’s practiced–in fact there was none at all. If one was to get them confused it wouldn’t be a problem. The only reason that made witches different from faeries was their souls. It was common knowledge that witches and faeries were split from the same soul. However, the thing that made them different was chaos and order. One was the calm that connected with the soothing light of the moon, while the other was the disorderly that played in the sun. 

In the village though, there was no harsh competition between the two families. Not when you knew that one of the Jung’s was connected to you on a cosmic level. He was your soulmate–the platonic kind. And your family saw nothing wrong with it so they practiced their own things on their own. You kept the middle Jung from trouble and he was the one who pushed you to go out of the norm. It was well balanced as the universe intended. 

Now with your family's shop, you were in charge of it when they were gone–seeing as you were going to be the one to continue the legacy. You would often help customers find what they needed, create spells that would heal wounds, flesh out spirits that were attached to another person, banish entities that meant harm to others. It was the everyday life of a witch–one you cared for dearly. 

It let you know that you still had the power of the moon behind you. You didn’t take them for granted. You didn’t overuse their gift or for personal reasons. Oftentimes you would turn to it when you needed guidance or help in learning something about yourself. It was the mother that had given you what you were. The reason you were a witch. 

“Have a good day!” You smiled, bowing your head at the kind elven woman who had come to ask for a healing jar. 

You handed her the glass, checking it over one last time to make sure the salve was sealed tightly and nothing spilled out. You allowed her hand to touch yours, closing your eyes and giving one last prayer to the moon to allow the salve to have the magical properties it needed. 

“Thank you, (Y/N)!” The woman beamed, bowing her head in thanks. 

You showed the woman out, waving your hand as she disappeared into the crowd. You turned to the other side of the road, hearing commotion as someone stopped at the small food stall that you often had food at. The owner was a mermaid, serving the best seafood dishes you could think of. While your village wasn’t that near water, there was still a large lake that had a lot of freshwater fish to enjoy. 

The commotion was between said owner and a larger than life man. Ogres weren’t that common as mermaids were because of their origins. While mermaids originated from Asia, ogres came from the northern region of Europe. In this time and age, it was common to find creatures all over the world but it was still likely you wouldn’t see them often. 

“We don't serve ogres here.” The owner sneered at the large man. 

“Please, I've been traveling so far.” The poor man sighed, trying to make himself look smaller. 

He glanced around at the patrons of the stall, taking note of all the looks he would get from them. Your shoulders dropped as you sighed deeply. Prejudice against certain creatures had always been around. Some got it more than others–if only because those who treated them poorly were scared of them. It hurt you inside to see how they treated each other. They were all created with the same magic. The magic that came from either the sun or the moon. 

“Go somewhere else.” The owner waved the ogre off, looking away from him angrily. “I don't need you taking up more space than needed.”

The ogre man didn’t argue, only bowed his head and turned to leave the stall. He glanced around for a moment once more, trying to find a place to eat. Without thinking, you went into your store and gathered some mushrooms and herbs that were edible. They were used for spells but that was only if you chose to work with them. In the end they were just normal herbs that could be used in food. 

Coming outside, you were lucky to find that the ogre didn’t go too far. So you rushed up to him, getting his attention as you held out your things for him to take. 

“Here you are.” You spoke softly, bowing your head. 

The man looked down at the things in his hand, glancing back up at you. Tears began to well in his eyes at how kind you were. It had been a long journey to reach the village for the man, and he was grateful that someone was willing to help him. He knew at that moment you were a witch, having the kind nature to help those in need. 

“Thank you.” He bowed deeply, holding the mushrooms close to his chest. 

And so you watched him continue on his way, shoulders dropping at the somber feeling that filled your chest. Things were changing when it came to the people who were on this earth. You didn’t know if it was for the better–or if it was for the worst. 

“Another family came to ask my parents if they could reverse their abilities.” Wooyoung explained to you as he leaned against the counter of your shop. 

You paused in your organizing for a moment before resuming what you were doing. It was few and far between that a new family had come to your or Wooyoung’s family shops to ask that they take away their abilities as creatures. It was them asking to reverse generations of DNA infused with one another. 

Creatures weren’t alway created with spells, they could be born as well. Once the spells became worldwide and other faeries and witches would cast them, it called for new species that would procreate more. It had been a long while since the last spell was casted that created a creature, so the ones who were there came from generational families. 

“They said there's hunters nearby.” Your friend added.

You felt a deep feeling within your stomach that clenched. Hunters were the humans who chose to willingly kill creatures. Humans were common like anyone else. However it became recent that they began to turn against the creatures.  

It had been a long while since creatures themselves began to turn against each other. The humans had begun this fear, causing everyone to notice other things about each other that usually called for peace. They started to become scared of each other because they would assume others had more power. It was starting to bring about a war that would cause all creatures to be wiped out. 

Whether from death because of another species or from them reversing their own abilities. 

“Why would they be here?” You sighed, turning to look at the boy. 

Everyone knew how close you and Wooyoung were. You couldn’t remember a time when you weren’t friends with the chaotic boy. You remembered the first time you had met him, back when you were both children learning to make friends in general. 

He was a bit too much for you, often getting too excited over things that made you give him a questioning look. But you were often paired with him because the other kids didn’t like to hang out with him because of his excited nature. He was too much to handle, but you always knew how to do that. 

Witches and faeries were soulmates, it was known. The universe had created them from the same soul so they were meant to be there for one another. And just like the universe planned, you were there with Wooyoung. You loved him as your other half–it was something the both of you could feel. But that didn’t mean you were lovers. 

While a large majority of the village thought you were, you knew the kind of preferences Wooyoung had and the kind you did. The love you had for each other was platonic. You were his person and he was yours. You knew if either one of you were in trouble the other wouldn’t be that far behind to save the day. 

“Maybe because our village is near the Park estate. I haven't seen them recently now that I think about it. Is it the hunters?” Wooyoung prattled off. 

“I wouldn't assume so.” You told him. 

The Park’s were considered like royalty in your town. It was known that they were one of the founding families, along with Wooyoung’s and some others. The Park’s however were the ones who knew a lot more about how to gather a community together. They were the ones who ran things and made sure to cater to the needs of its people. Mayors of sorts for the village. 

However as of recently, it has been known that the Park’s don’t come down from their castle on the hill. It’s been a few weeks since you had last seen any of them, which you did find to be odd but you didn’t question it because your parents told you not to. 

“They're probably up there staying young forever.” Wooyoung sighed wistfully. “That's why they stopped coming down.”

You frowned, glaring slightly at the boy for his statement. “They need to drink blood in order to do that.”

The Park’s were well known for being vampires. At least being known from what they tell other people. Vampires weren’t what the stories claimed them to be. They weren’t people who drank from people in order to feed. They were still human beings but with an ability that allowed them to drink blood. 

A vampire could eat food, get sick, and die like everyone else, it was when they would have a drop of blood that would heal them both from inside and out. They didn’t have sharp fangs that sprouted from their teeth or pale skin that was sensitive to the sun. What others found out later on after so many were created was that drinking blood continuously made a vampire strong and live longer. Essentially making them immortal. 

And once people found out just how powerful they could be with a simple drop of blood, greed easily took over the minds of the weak. 

“Maybe they come down at night.” Wooyoung continued the joke, a teasing smile on his face. 

“No one goes missing.” You rolled your eyes. “Wooyoung, they're not bloodsuckers.”

You finished what you had been doing with the herbs, moving along the counter to wait on the other side as you began to compile certain spell jars. Wooyoung turned around to face you, head placed in his arms that held him up.

“Wrong!” Wooyoung suddenly said. “They are! I hear the eldest son is 96. Can you imagine how wrinkly he'd be?” He giggled. 

The boy watched as your shoulders seemed to have straightened out at the mention of the Park son. He pursed his lips to keep from saying something, already knowing exactly how it was you felt about the boy. 

“Seonghwa is the same age as you and me.” You said, not making eye contact with him. “Mother delivered him. The Park's are not like those greedy vampires.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes with a huff. “You only say that because you're a witch. Have you even met him before?” He asked you, looking at you expectantly. 

“Once when I was a kid.” You smiled to yourself. “He was very kind.” 

You hadn’t grown up to be his friend–something you regret a lot. You could only remember it so well because of the way you had felt that day. You didn’t know what you barely a teenager body could possibly have been going through but you knew you had never felt that way with someone before. 

Years Before

You had been strolling through the village, making your rounds to scourge for herbs and the likes as you were on your way to find Wooyoung. You were passing by the wall that was stationed in front of the Park estate, frowning when you saw someone trying to walk along the top of it with their arms stretched out. 

You continued on your way slowly, not wanting to disturb them in case they lost focus. However, it seemed you didn’t need to because the moment you started walking again the boy fell over, scraping his knees on the ground. 

He hissed as he lifted his hands up to wipe them before sitting down on his bum to take a better look at his knee. The wall wasn’t that tall, probably reached your shoulders which meant you were able to see over it. So his fall wasn’t something that would majorly injure him. However since he fell wrong his knees did take a good hit on the dirt ground. 

You quietly gasped out when you saw his wound bubbling with blood, rushing over to check on him. “Are you okay?” You asked out of instinct, kneeling down to take a better look. 

The boy only looked at you with wide eyes, mouth closed shut as he watched you not even pay the proper attention to him. “I’m okay. I just scraped my knee.” He told you quietly. 

You finally looked up at him, feeling your shoulder tense up as you felt a blush settle over your face from his gaze. You tilted your head to the side though, frowning as your heart skipped a beat for a moment. At that moment, you also saw as he frowned as well moving to rub at his chest. 

Looking back down at his knee, you sat down your basket before rummaging through it to find what you needed. “I’ll heal your wounds.” You explained to him, taking your small knife to pick at the herbs you had. 

Before you placed anything on him, you handed him a small cloth telling him to wipe at the blood so you could do your work. He softly took the rag, giving you a smile before nodding his head. His fingers felt cold to the touch, but your skin still heated up. It reminded you of all the candles your family had around the shop. Like a comforting hug that surrounded you. You blushed, smiling back at him before going back to the basket. 

Your fingers moved idly over the herbs you knew are used to heal wounds. With only a select few that you had with you, you cut a piece of aloe vera and made sure to expose the gel inside. While you discarded the green part, you gathered a few sprigs of green tea leaves before turning to Seonghwa. 

He sat up straighter, having been caught staring as you went about your work. You giggled quietly, scooting closer to his leg and looking over it to make sure there was nothing dirty. When you saw he had cleaned up the excess blood, you carefully placed the cool gel pad of the aloe onto the scrape and rubbed it in with the leaves. 

“Hold this here, please.” You quietly told him. 

He listened, holding the aloe to his skin as your hands hovered over him. He watched you close your eyes and began to move your lips as hushed breaths came out. Your fingers messaged into his skin as a tingle seemed to flow throughout his muscles. His eyes went wide as he had realized that you were doing a spell on him, so he quickly turned to pay attention to what you were doing. 

Nothing came out from your fingers, in fact it didn’t even look like you were doing anything other than rubbing his knee. What he did feel though was a warming feeling that overtook his body. He was reminded of the times he spent watching the flames of a candle flicker back and forth as his nose breathed against it. 

He looked back at your face, smiling softly as you made him feel content. Before he knew it you were sitting back up and taking the aloe off his skin. “Oh you’re done.” He said, looking down at his knee. 

His eyes went wide again as he saw his skin had healed over and no more blood was coming out. The skin was pink though, a scar taking its place. Magic witches and faeries had was an amazing thing but not everything could be fixed completely. 

“Yeah.” You said. “The spell only makes the healing process go faster. Scars are still going to be there.”

Seonghwa looked over his knee, moving it back and forth. “That’s okay.” He grinned.

You both stood up from the ground, dusting yourselves off from the dirt. Just as he was about to ask for your name, someone had called for you. Looking around Seonghwa, you saw Wooyoung looking around for you with a frown on his face. 

“That’s my friend.” You told Seonghwa. “I have to get going.” You gave him a bow one last time, picking up your basket and skipping over to the faerie boy. 

As you walked away, you smiled sadly as you looked behind you one last time catching Seonghwa’s eyes. He gave you a smile, waving his hand. You laughed, waving back enthusiastically. When you turned around, you felt something flicker in your chest as a warmth spread throughout it. 

Present

“Sweet.” You added, remembering about the time you had met Seonghwa. 

“And he made me feel all warm inside as if I was standing next to a burning candle.” Wooyoung mocked in a high pitched voice. “As does every witch girl who comes across him. You aren't special.”

“I never said I was!” You sneered at him, throwing a bay leaf at him for mocking you. 

He began to let out a loud laugh that reminded you of a screech. But you couldn’t stand to tell him something about it. No matter how much he annoyed you and mocked you, you knew that you both loved each other too much. 

Wooyoung grew quiet for a moment, making you look over at him. He had a somber look on his face that made you worry a bit. Wooyoung had his moments where he was serious, especially if it had to do with his beliefs. But even then you still worried about his mental state in those times. Whether it was out of anger or sadness, you would always be able to tell when something was bothering him. 

“Do you think the hunters will come to our village next?” Wooyoung quietly asked. “What happens when they do?” He turned to look at you. 

You licked your lips, sighing to yourself. “I don't know, Woo.” You quietly said. 

That following night, your parents had left the shop in your care because they had something to attend to with the council. Wooyoung’s parents were also going to be out but they had placed their things in the care of Wooyoung’s older brother. The man himself was not going to keep the place from falling apart. 

You were getting things ready for closing when someone knocked on the door and you looked out towards the door. A tall man stood at the entrance, bowing his head when he noticed you turning around to face him. 

The candle light was too far from him for you to find out who exactly stood at the door, so you calmly raised your hand closer to some candles and whispered under your breath for protection just in case. 

However as he grew closer, your shoulders dropped and your fingers stopped their movements. You began to feel dizzy from the warm feeling surrounding you. You wanted to close your eyes and bask in its warmth but you had a customer to attend to. 

“I've come to speak to the head of this house.” He spoke, coming into view in the candle light. 

He was the tall and handsome type most people would fall for. The kind that makes people stop and stare from how regal he looked. It was only heightened with the kind of clothes he wore. They made him look taller, stronger with how much everything seemed to fit him. He called for attention, and he clearly had yours. 

“They're currently out of town.” You told the duke’s son. 

He finally had reached the counter, coming into light as the candle fully lit up his face. Park Seonghwa was someone who smiled at those in passing. The one who was kind to everyone because that was just the kind of person he was. 

To you though, he was the man who you dreamt of. The man who laid on a dying bed as your blood poured into his mouth to keep him alive. It wasn’t your memory–far from it. It was the memory of a witch who was losing her true love to some injury. The one who created the spell that would change the course of history for magic. 

But it was all in your head. Something you could never explain to others because they wouldn’t understand. Like how Wooyoung had made fun of you for thinking of Seonghwa in any way other than he was a nice guy. You knew others might not make fun of you, but it was something that you wanted to keep to yourself because it was special.  

“I see.” Seonghwa nodded his head.  

He looked at you, for a moment, eyes glancing over your face as he tried to deduce something. “Is it alright if I can ask you what creature you are?” He asked you.

You opened your mouth just a bit as your breath got caught in your throat. You smiled bashfully, looking down. “Of course.” You nodded, answering him.  

“I am a witch.” You explained. “My family owns the shop.”

He paused again, seemingly looking more confused as he scooted closer to the counter. “I’m sorry, have we met before?” He asked you.

Your eyebrows rose, as you took in his looks, seemingly sighing dreamily as you watched him. Your fingers began to tingle, causing you to flex them to relive the feelings. You could feel your blood rushing through your heart, and warming your body.

“I believe, so when we were children.” You answered. 

Seonghwa watched you, feeling his blood warm up as you looked at him. He could feel himself start to fall asleep from how everything seemed to make him feel. He could remember the one time he had last ever felt that way. The time a young woman had come to help him fix his scraped knee. 

He remembered it now, the time when someone had helped him and it made him feel like a little child who stood in front of a candle. And now, standing in front of you again, he felt that same feeling. The wick that was lit up, the heat that radiated from the small flame, the wax that would melt and he would dip his fingers into it. 

Not a day went by that he wouldn’t think about it. Think about the girl who had helped heal him with her magic. About the story his mother would tell him. The story of how vampires came to be. How they were the creatures who were created out of love. 

“Yes.” Seonghwa said, nodding to himself. “I remember now. You treated my knee scrape when I fell from the wall of the palace.” He began to smile bashfully. “Embarrassing for me really. Having a pretty girl clean my wound.”

“I'm sure someone else would have done the same.” You blushed. 

“Yes but none of them would have been a witch.” Seonghwa smiled at you.

You smiled softly at him, understanding that what you were feeling was not only yours. You didn’t know how far it was that he understood your connection–you didn’t even fully know if he truly did. But something about him knowing now that you were a witch made things change. 

There was so much you wanted to ask him. So much you wanted to speak about with him but you knew there were things he needed to get done. The night was young and Seonghwa must have important matters to attend to if he only came down from the estate this late at night. 

“I guess not.” You spoke softly. 

“I guess I'll come by another day then.” He whispered to you, not tearing his eyes away. 

You smiled at him nodding your head. Before he got the chance to turn around and walk away you called out to him. “If you need help with anything, please don't be afraid to ask me.” You told him.

He gave you a dazzling smile, lips pulling over his teeth. “Of course, little witch.”

You felt your heart stop for just a split second. The endearing nickname felt like a stab to your chest. Not in a bad way, but in a way that made your blood warm up even more. A blush overtook your cheeks. But still you gave him a nod and a wave of your hand. You watched as he left with a small smile on his lips. 

**

You didn’t know how long it was that you saw him again. But it was a sad day for the village. You read over the article with the news about the death of the Park family. At least the parents. 

You hadn’t seen Seonghwa since he last came in looking for your parents. It made you sad, not knowing what he must have been going through. It was even worse when you didn’t know how to fix things. 

“They said it was a hunter.” Wooyoung spoke, looking over the paper. “Now with both of them gone it only leaves Seonghwa in charge of the estate. I wonder why they didn't just take blood.” The boy sighed. 

“Wooyoung, not everything is like a story book.” You told him, not looking at him. 

You didn’t know how to tell him. How to explain what it was you felt for Seonghwa. Honestly, you didn’t even fully understand it yet. It was every witches dream to find the person they were destined for, but you knew there were a select few who were able to. 

Twin flames were hard to come by, only one in every century. To get this kind of chance was something no one wanted to just pass by. But for you, it was hard. Times were changing for the worse. At least for the creatures who roamed the earth. And yet you still wanted to deny it.

“They are not creatures who guzzle blood like it's their dinner.” You defended. 

“But somehow they were the reason this war against creatures started.” Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

“You can't blame them for everything.” You looked up at him, eyebrows pulled together. “Only the greedy ones deserve death.” You added.

“(Y/N), get out of your head.” Wooyoung exclaimed. “Vampires are the reason hunters came to be. The reason all the creatures turned against each other and started to go into hiding. The reason we can't practice our magic anymore!” He was breathing hard, trying his best to keep from crying.

You sucked in breath, wanting to calm your racing heart. “Don't make a fool of yourself, Wooyoung. We still practice it.” You denied him. 

“Really?” He asked. “Then what was the last spell your parents taught you?”

It was a healing spell. Back when you were a little girl. They never really taught you anything outside of the everyday needs. Healing, protections, warding, divination–all the things anyone needed in their lives. Wooyoung was right, though. They never taught you the big kinds of spells. The ones that connected you to the other worldly beings or fixed a mistake in your life that ended up in major failure. 

You were just the girl who worked in the shop and made simple spells and read simple futures with cards. You couldn’t save a person’s life from the brink of death. Couldn’t make a mother find what she needed in order to have a child. Didn’t know how to help a child who couldn’t hear or see. Those were the spells your parents knew because their own families had taught them. 

Wooyoung took your silence as an answer. His lips trembled as he became angry with how you were denying the truth. How you didn’t want to come to terms that the world was not happy with the magic users that were meant to care for it. 

“They stopped because they know everyone is reversing their abilities.” Wooyoung sniffled. “Even the Park's! They came to my family to take away their powers—”

“Am I interrupting?” Someone asked. 

Both you and the faerie boy turned, coming face to face with Seonghwa. You pressed your lips together, feeling your blood warm up from standing so close to him. 

“Not at all.” You spoke up. “Wooyoung was just leaving.” 

You watched the boy give you a look, disappointed in what you decided to choose. Your shoulders dropped at the way he looked at you. It hurt to watch him walk away from you in a haste to get away.

No matter what, Wooyoung was always going to be your person. Even if you kind were the ones who created vampires out of love, the universe was the one who created faeries and witches from the same soul. No creature was going to get in the way of that. 

You turned back to Seonghwa, feeling your chest burn from both hurt and familiarity. You walked around the counter, stepping to stand in front of him. “I'm sorry about your mother.” You told him.

“I am too.” He gave you a soft smile. “Little witch, do you treasure who you are?” He asked you.

Your lips opened and closed for a moment before you looked down to avoid his gaze. You felt your heart ache thinking about how he must have overheard Wooyoung telling you about the Park’s going to his family to take away their vampiric abilities. His question did catch you off guard. But the moment you understood his words, you knew what it was you wanted to say. 

People grew up to be the person they were meant to be for a reason. Being a human, witch, faerie, vampire–whatever–was what made them just that. You couldn’t go on without knowing who it was you were or wanted to be. Being a witch was a part of you just as being a vampire was for Seonghwa. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to give up a part of you. Especially because you knew it was the reason you were at risk of being killed at the hands of others who didn’t understand the kind of person you were. 

“More than anything in the world.” You answered him. “It's what makes me the person I am.”

“And if you had to give it up?” Seonghwa’s lips trembled, his breath turning shallow as he grew closer to you. “To let others know that you mean them no harm?”

You were never going to be able to know how Wooyoung dealt with his struggles. How Seonghwa dealt with his or how other creatures did. But you knew that being a witch was part of you and losing that would be one of the most painful experiences you could ever know. 

“I wouldn't know what to do with myself.” You whispered. “That would be taking away a part of me–a part of my soul.”

Seonghwa sucked in a breath hearing your words. You felt his hands brush against your own, your breath hitching as you suddenly saw a vision pass behind your eyes. It was like those dreams you had. You saw those bloody hands clasped together–watched as two candles flickered together in sync with one another. And like always, the moonlight shined down on those two lovers huddled together. 

When the images passed you found yourself staring right into Seonghwa’s eyes. You were close enough to watch as his pupils grew as they watched you. You could almost feel his warmth seeping into your skin. 

“And if your soul was connected to someone else's?” He whispered. 

“Wouldn't that make them my soulmate?” You questioned back.

“No, not your soulmate.” Seonghwa shook his head. “That would mean that person was your other half.” He explained, his hand finally taking yours in his. “The half that was torn from you.”

His fingers pried yours open, closing around your palm as he clasped your hand. Your eyes fluttered for a moment as you glanced down at his lips, but you quickly looked up the moment he stepped closer, chest brushing against yours.  

“I mean in a way that your soul mirrors another.”

Twin flames were what they called witches and vampires. They were called that because when a witch created the first ever vampire, the way they had cured their lover was by connecting their souls together. They prayed to the moon and called upon its magic to save the one thing that they had loved more than even their own life. 

And when the moon answered, the witch lit two candles that were the bridge between their lover’s dying soul and their living one. When they fed their lover blood, it was meant to be the essence of life bringing them back from the river that would take them to the underworld. In doing so, the witches' life became one with their lover. This created their souls to be connected to one another. 

“Then we'd walk side by side.” You swallowed. “Magic or not, our souls will always be the same.” You told him. 

You watched how his Adam's apple moved, his throat feeling like it was closing in as he took in your words. His lip trembled, breathing turning harsh as he tried to keep from having tears fall. 

“Are you alright, Seonghwa?” You asked, growing worried as you took in his state. 

“I just wanted to check on something.” He whispered so quietly. “I had to make sure I wasn't wrong.”

Your lips slowly turned downward as you realized what he was talking about. The moment Seonghwa saw your facial expression take a turn, he leaned closer, forehead touching yours as he was a breath away from touching your lips.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” You asked, lips brushing against his.

“More than I could ever ask for.” He then pressed his lips against yours. 

Your breath got caught in your throat once more, body leaning back as he fully pushed himself into you. You didn’t waste time to kiss him back with as much vigor. You could feel something within you swell. You could feel Seonghwa’s heartbeat against his chest. Tears pooled in your eyes as you knew it was beating in sync with yours. 

You felt his tears falling down his cheek, touching your own and causing them to get wet. But you didn’t care. All that filled your head was the way his lips felt touching yours–the way his body reacted with your own. Everything was moving together, like it was one person who was in charge. 

Everything felt right. Like you were meant to be in that moment with him. And the moon–you could feel it on your skin. You could feel it seeping through the windows and onto the both of you. It was watching you–knowing what it had been doing when it brought you together. 

You began to feel Seonghwa move the tip of his tongue onto your lips. When you opened your mouth just a bit more, you felt his teeth scrape your bottom lip. You didn’t know what had gone wrong, but suddenly you felt a nick on your skin, causing you to pull back quickly with a gasp.

You licked at your lip, feeling liquid touch your tongue. You furrowed your eyebrows when you felt that it didn’t hurt. In fact, you could even feel the sting when Seonghwa had caused the wound. The only reason you had was because you felt him bite you. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He pulled back, licking off the blood that had been left on his lips.

“It’s alright.” You shook your head, trying to wipe away the dribbles. “Nothing I can’t fix.” You smiled at him.

Seonghwa stepped forward again, moving a hand to your cheek as his thumb brushed to wipe away the blood. He leaned down again, giving you one last chaste kiss to avoid hurting you further. 

“Forgive me, my little witch.” He whispered to you.

And then he was gone.

**

You watched, along with the rest of the village, as people tried to clean up the bodies of humans who were torn apart and left in the town square to rot. Many tried to shield their eyes, keep children from looking at the disfigured humans. 

They were hunters. Everyone could tell from the weapons that laid at their sides. Weapons that could easily kill anyone if you used them right. But you knew they were used against creatures. Creatures who had turned themselves humans but still were ultimately killed.

Wooyoung was at your side, making faces and gagging as the morticians tried to clean up the severed body parts. There were only certain things that had the strength to do that to the body. And as far as you knew, they had reversed their ability days before the death of his parents.

“I thought you said the Park’s came to reverse their powers.” You mumbled emotionless.

“Not Seonghwa.” Wooyoung answered you.

He turned to look at you, seeing how your face remained emotionless. “Still don't want to believe me?” He asked. 

There was only so much pain someone could take before reaching the breaking point. Finding out that the one person who was meant to be a mirrored soul to your own after being told that you were no longer going to be the person you were meant to be was heart wrenching. Watching as your family lost something that belonged to not only their mind but their soul as you chose not to go through with it. Then you truly find the person who was meant to be your one true love.

Only to remember that one day they too were going to have to give up what they were. Even worse for someone who was a witch. To have to grow old as they lost their connection with the moon. That was far worse than losing some silly ability to drink blood. 

It only led them to want to fight for what was meant to be right. But was it in the end if power only caused war against one another? Maybe giving up those kinds of things was for the best. But that doesn’t mean there weren’t going to be people who fought for their life.

“Not at all.”

Permanent Taglist: @hecateslittlewitchling , @ldysmfrst, @rln-byg , @vampcharxter , @angieskzzzz , @puppyminnnie , @smilingtokki , @emtrades22 , @tinyelfperson , @0rangemilk , @jaerisdiction , @wooyoungqueen

[clangenrising]

Month 16 - Greenleaf

When Aldertail had volunteered to go herb gathering with him, Oddstripe had been delighted but he had definitely expected her to get tired and lose interest by this point. The day was hot but there was a nice breeze and, as they meandered the territory looking for patches that hadn’t already been harvested, Oddstripe couldn’t help but smile. 

“Y’know, I’d really love to find some thyme or juniper,” he said, hopping over a stone in his path. 

“What do those do?” Aldertail asked, carefully picking her way after him. Her legs were the best he’d ever seen them. There was almost no redness and the fur had nearly grown back in. Oddstripe was so proud.

“Thyme is very calming and juniper berries are just all around useful. On top of being calming, they soothe belly aches, help with coughs, and they can even treat aching joints when mixed with the proper herbs. I’d love to get some for Sagetooth.” 

Aldertail’s ears pressed back briefly. “Mm, would that help?”

“Oh, yes,” Oddstripe nodded. “When she isn’t suffering from her aches, she’s really, actually very kind. It can just be hard for her to stay that way when she’s in a lot of pain.” 

“I guess,” Aldertail shrugged. “I feel like you don’t just start being mean to people though, if that makes sense.” 

“I get what you mean,” said Oddstripe, “but something you have to remember is that your body and your mind aren’t two separate entities. They’re both you and they influence each other.” Aldertail winced in an attempt to seem less skeptical. Oddstripe laughed a little and tried to think of a better way to explain. “Oh, for example, when your mind starts to run wild, you feel sick to your stomach right?”

“Yeah,” Aldertail nodded. 

“So that’s your mind influencing your body!” Oddstripe grinned. “But the inverse is also possible. Like, if you’re very scared, we do those deep breaths and the act of calming your body calms your mind.” Aldertail hummed thoughtfully. “So when Sagetooth’s body aches it makes it harder for her to control the way she speaks to people. You’re right that it doesn’t make her something she isn’t but it’s also not entirely her choice. Even I can get snappy when I’m stressed or ill.” 

“Really?” Aldertail didn’t seem convinced. “I can’t picture you snappy.” 

Oddstripe blushed and laughed as he replied, “Oh, that’s very sweet of you.”

“It’s true,” she said. “You’ve only ever been kind and gentle.” 

“Well, I’ve been lucky that I’ve never felt ill enough to snap at you,” he said, full of pride. 

“Mm,” Aldertail chewed her lip. “So where would we find juniper berries?” 

“Hmm,” Oddstripe scrunched up his face in thought. “I know a place they’ll definitely be but its a bit of a distance. Would you still want to come along?” 

“Of course!” she nodded vigorously. “I like learning about medicine.” 

“Really?” asked Oddstripe. 

“Mhm,” nodded Aldertail. “It’s so… powerful. I can’t imagine being able to do what you do.” 

“Oh, it’s really not that hard to learn,” Oddstripe said, changing course. “I’ll show you.”

As they made their way towards the juniper bushes, Oddstripe went over all of the basics he could think of. Healing was something he was intensely passionate about and Aldertail indulged him in his ramblings for the entirety of their walk. Oddstripe couldn’t remember the last time someone had let him ramble like this. It felt amazing. 

They crossed the eastern border and Oddstripe assured Aldertail that everything would be alright. Eventually, the grass petered out and the earth beneath their paws turned to dry, sunbaked mud patterned with cracks and ridges. Oddstripe smiled at the feeling of it under his paws. It had been too long since he’d stepped foot in the desert and he had missed it. They passed little burrows and scurrying lizards and dry looking shrubs and then finally came across the big juniper bush.

“Tada!” Oddstripe declared, unfurling his tail towards the cloudless sky. 

“This is a juniper bush?” Aldertail asked, glancing around its leaves as if something would jump out. 

“Mhm!” he purred. “The berries near the bottom are usually gone because creatures eat them but we can jump up and snag a few branches to take home. Maybe we could even plant one closer to the territories.”

“That would be a good idea,” Aldertail squirmed. “I don’t like this place.” 

“Really?” asked Oddstripe, tilting his head.

“Yeah, it’s too open,” she shuddered. “Let’s hurry up and go home.” 

“Alright,” he frowned worriedly. He’d never considered that someone might not enjoy being able to see the world stretch out endlessly around them. He bunched his legs underneath him and sprang into the bush, but failed to grab onto any of the branches. “Mousedung. Let me try again.” 

He jumped again, this time snagging a branch in his teeth, and his weight pulled it down to a place where Aldertail could help him snap it off. He handed the branch over to her and tried again. The leaves rattled as he fell through them, this time taking another two tries before he caught another branch in his claws. It nearly slipped and he had to scramble to clamp his jaws down around it, smearing berry juice all over his muzzle. 

“Are you okay?” asked Aldertail. 

“Uh huh,” he said awkwardly. “‘Ah you ‘reah ih?” 

“Oh, right! Sorry!” Aldertail hurried forward to start chewing through the branch.

“S’alrigh’,” he chuckled, feeling silly. She met his eyes and flushed pink, quickly averting her gaze to focus on her work. He laughed again. She was such a sweetheart. 

A voice startled them both. “You shouldn’t be out here.” 

Aldertail squeaked and flattened herself against the ground. Oddstripe tried to turn around but struggled to do so without letting go of the branch which didn’t occur to him at all. The cat who had spoken, thankfully, stepped to the side into his view. She was a plain looking grey tabby with bright, golden eyes, and she was watching them with an expression that read to Oddstripe as professional. 

“Oh, sahhy,” he tried to say around the branch in his teeth. 

A small smile poked at the edges of the stranger’s lips and she glanced carefully at Aldertail before asking, “Would you like a paw?”

“Mm!” Oddstripe grinned and nodded clumsily. “Mhm!”

The stranger chuckled softly, dropping her gaze to her paws for a moment, before she stepped up and swatted the branch where Aldertail had been chewing it. The force of the blow was enough to snap it and Oddstripe stumbled away as the rest of the branch sprang noisily back into place. Aldertail squeaked again, and scrunched herself closer to his side. 

He laid his tail over her back, dropped the branch, and then licked his muzzle before speaking. “Thank you! I really appreciate the help. My name’s Oddstripe, what’s yours.” 

“Oscar,” the she-cat smiled with a polite dip of her head. “I’m glad to be of assistance but I really must urge you to leave this place.” 

“Oh?” asked Oddstripe, ears perking. “What for?” 

“This is coyote territory,” she said, scanning the area with a sharp gaze. “You aren’t safe here.” 

“Oh, I didn’t realize the coyotes had come so far west,” Oddstripe said. 

“You live here?” asked Oscar, brow furrowing. 

“No, no, but I used to live near here,” he said. “Now I’m out in the grasslands.” 

“I see,” Oscar nodded. “Well, I must insist you return home, for your own safety.” 

“We will, thank you,” smiled Oddstripe.

Oscar glanced around again and said, “Should you require an escort, I would be happy to oblige.” 

“I don’t think it would hurt,” Oddstripe said. “Aldertail, honey, is that alright with you?” Aldertail simply shrugged, eyes wide enough to show the whites. 

Oddstripe’s ears drooped in pity. “Oh, you poor thing. Here, let’s head back to camp.” He licked her cheek and helped her stand, then handed her one of the juniper sprigs to carry. Having something in her mouth would keep her occupied, he thought. Picking up his own branch, he glanced at Oscar and said, “It’s just this way.” 

“I follow your lead,” she deferred with a bow of the head. Oddstripe blushed, a silly little flutter dancing in his stomach. Something about her seemed right out of a story. He’d never felt that way before. 

Shrugging it off, he led the way, tail wrapped around Aldertail’s leg reassuringly. She stayed close to his side, ears flat against her skull, and Oscar stayed on the opposite side of him, at least two tail lengths away. Oddstripe wanted to walk closer but the distance was probably best for Aldertail. How considerate of their new companion, he thought. 

“So, Oscar,” he asked, able to speak around the sprig this time, “why are you out here in coyote country?” 

“I’m patrolling,” she said. “I look for creatures like you and give them the warning.” 

“Creatures?” Oddstripe chuckled but Oscar nodded seriously.

“Yes. Anything I can speak to. Cats, deer, snakes, most birds.”

“Wow!” Oddstripe marveled. “That’s amazing! I didn’t realize you could talk to those kinds of things.” 

“It’s simple if you have a teacher,” said Oscar humbly. 

“It seems most things are,” laughed Oddstripe. 

It wasn’t long before they reached the edge of the grass again. Oscar stopped under a scrubby little tree and said. “I should return to my patrol. Will you be able to get home from here?” 

“Oh, yes,” nodded Oddstripe. “Thank you so much, Oscar, it was lovely to meet you.”

She shook her head. “I’m simply doing my duty.”

“Well, thank you anyway,” said Oddstripe. She smiled, dipped her head in a polite bow, and then turned and bounded back into the desert. Oddstripe watched her go like he was trying to catch every last moment of her before she disappeared forever. Eventually, her shape disappeared into the shimmering edge of the horizon. 

“Oddstripe?” asked Aldertail quietly. 

“Oh,” he blinked and looked down at her. “Yes, dear?” 

“I’d like to go home, is that okay?” 

“Oh, of course it is,” he said, “let’s go home.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, that’s alright. Sorry I got distracted.” 

“What was her deal?” Aldertail asked, craning her head to see if she could spot Oscar in the distance.

“I don’t know,” Oddstripe breathed softly, doing the same.

[thrashkink-coven]

When I approached Ra I was apprehensive. I don’t like the idea of supremacy. I don’t jive with the concept of kingship, and my past relationship with Christianity has made me shy away from all things “Father God”. I like the freedom of choice and self discovery that I’ve found in entities like Lucifer.

But Ra is helping me heal, and in him I’m starting to find that the divine masculine isn’t so scary after all. I thought because of his nobility and position as a king, he would be harsh and picky, but he’s starting to help me understand what it really means to be a God of kings. It doesn’t mean being served and obeyed just because you should, it means being such a great and supportive leader that people want to follow you. And as a father, a good father, Ra never raises his voice at his children. He gives them the best advice because he wants them to succeed. I didn’t feel like I “owed” him respect. I just wanted to, I wanted to be around him and learn from him. I wanted to trust in his leadership and I wanted to make him proud. That’s very new for me. Having grown up without a father, I’ve never understood what that feels like.

Ra reminds me of the beauty and strength of powerful men. Men who protect and lead and encourage, men who nurture. Men who use their strength to create rather than destroy. Men who are honest and know how to love.

Ra is warm (of course) and incredibly, indescribably powerful, but also so soft. So gentle. And lively, cheerful. A smiling God. He doesn’t need to be stern and cold to summon those feelings of immense respect and honour of being in his presence. He laughs and he accepts offerings with such appreciation.

Today I gave him an offering of bread with some peanut butter and water. It’s the first one I’ve ever given. And I was overwhelmed with this feeling of him being pleasantly surprised by the peanut butter. As if he was saying “oh! Bread AND peanut butter! This is a treat!”

And something about that made me feel particularly softened. You’re the king of the Gods, the blazing burning Sun that gives all life to Earth, and yet you’re pleasantly surprised by a little peanut butter. Lol.

Today was the first time I called upon Ra for protection. I did a modified banishment of the Hexagram and called to him in his many faces, along with Horus cleanse my space and aura. I’ve never felt so confident in a protection ritual. The pure blazing energy of the sun sanitizes everything it touches. As I hummed each syllable of his holy names I felt him smiling on me. He seems to like singing and humming a lot. It was the first time I’ve ever felt right ending a prayer with “Amen”.

I could feel Mother Isis looking on us too, she seemed relieved that I’ve finally found them. Something about all this feels like coming home.

☀️

[lunarlianna]

Asteroid Circe

Now, moving on with our normal program of astrology and asteroid content. Here we have asteroid Circe and how I would interpret here in a natal chart. <;3

Asteroid number 34, Circe in a natal chart usually represents our inner which, our magical gifts and also can show where you feel isolated (this type of isolation can be from the outer world or self-imposed), also where do you fall in love to quickly. If conjunct the Asc, you can be quite intimidating. If conjunct the MC you can be seen very enchanting and be attracted to the occult.  If conjunct the Moon you may prefer being a night owl and prefer the company of animals.

Asteroid Circe

Circe in Aries/1st house: If you are into witchcrafts, you most probably work with fire and red candles. You may attract people because of your leadership skills, your energetic aura and fun-loving attitude.  Otherwise with this placement you may notice that others are intimidated maybe even scared by you.

Circe in Taurus/2nd house: If you are into witchcraft, you most probably are a garden which. You have a cosy like aura and people feel very comfortable in your presence. Usually, you may cook consciously or unconsciously with intention. You may like to collect crystal or river rock and be a pretty good manifesto for abundance.

Circe in Gemini/3th house: You may be very good at story-telling and have a really charming voice. Usually, you’ll be attracted in learning tarot and lucid dreaming. People are attracted to you because of your knowledge and intelligence. This placement might also indicate feeling isolated from your relatives or impose a self-isolation from them.

Circe in Cancer/4th: People are drawn to you because of your sweet nature and the sense of familiarity that they have when meeting you. Usually if in the 4th or conjunct the IC is an indicator of witchy lineage and you probably work a lot with the Moon energy. Otherwise, you are a healer and can help others heal their mother wound.

Circe in Leo/5th house: You may be attracted to meditation, energy healing and may practice specific manifestations technics. People usually are attracted to you without knowing exactly why. They feel you warm and shiny aura, they just want to revolve around you.  You may also like to collect occult objects.

Circe in Virgo/6th house: You may be interested in homeopathic medicine and alternative healing. You may have a specific everyday routine regarding manifestation or working with crystal or herbalism (ex: You drink a specific tea every day or put cinnamon in your coffee). Circe here can also make you feel isolated in your work life and with your colleagues or you may isolate yourself. Animals are really attracted to you or you may like to have pets.

Circe in Libra/ 7th house: You have a light hearted aura and people are drawn to you. You may be very good at identifying good romantic matches between people or you may work with tarot, astrology etc in order to help others navigate their relationships. If conjunct the DSC, people will have the tendency to be obsessed with you. As a witch you may want to be part of a coven. Also, you may tend to fall in love pretty fast.

Circe in Scorpio/8th house: You may be into really dark occult art and work with divination/entities etc. People are attracted to you because of your loyalty and determination. You can be an energy healer or a shaman due to your transmutation power. Sometimes people may exclude you or you can exclude people because of your practice.

Circe in Sagittarius/9th: You can be a living human lie detector and have a very good intuition. You attract people due to your optimistic aura. Astra-projection may come easy to you and you may astral project from a young age, try to ground yourself very good before going to sleep. You can be a great mentor or a teach for those that are willing to learn under your guidance.  

Circe in Capricorn/10th: With this placement you may be prone to be highly influential and very keen to success. As a witch you probably make great spell-jar for money or you manifest money without trying to. Sometime this placement can indicate feeling lonely in a room full of people. If conjunct the MC you’ll be recognized in the occult world very easily.

Circe in Aquarius/11th: This placement can indicate a passion for astrology or working into astral world. You attract people due to your intelligence and creativity. Sometime you may isolate yourself from your close friends. This placement can indicate an interested in being on social media platform talking about the 1000 ideas you have in your head.

Circe in Pisces/12th: This is a very spiritual place for Circe. Here she is highly empathetic, dreamy and highly intuitive. You know immediately if someone changed their energy towards you. You may have lucid dreams and have a great connection with the spirit realm. You tend to escape a bit to much in the astral world and also isolate yourself. You may dream of your partner before meeting him.

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