#the idea was actually that he was *about* to summon the wither which is why the sword’s in his off hand you know what nobody cares topsy

[mumblesplash]

pov you’re the wither and you have about 30 seconds to live

(the marks under his eye just say ‘RIP’ in sga/enchantment table language if anyone was curious)

[possum-quesadilla]

Chapter 9 of Time’s Arrow, “I am selfish, I am broken, I am cruel, I am all the things they might have said to you” is here! Woof. Sorry everyone. Happy Beetlejuice 2 premiere! :,)

THIS CHAPTER IS PARTICULARLY ROUGH. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS CAREFULLY BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Extras below!

- The lyrics for this chapter’s title is from “Never Love An Anchor” by The Crane Wives.

- “The next ten months moved at the speed of a dream.” - A call back to a line from Time is a Flat Circle, which itself is a reference to “Asteroid City”! Gotcha again!

- “They read ‘Flowers for Algernon’, ‘An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge’, and… some sort of Jane Austen novels.” - I wonder if those stories are thematically relevant to this chapter?

- “He had no idea what to do about his fur anyhow. It had never grown in that long and thick before, how was he supposed to know it would do that?” - It was growing properly because he was finally happy and healthy enough for it to do so!

- “She was tall. Well, at least taller than him. Damnit.” - Bela is 5’9”! She is on the shorter side for demons. Beej is just especially small, since he was malnourished.

- “Her roots were black, the rest of her hair cascaded down to her shoulders in similar curls to his own, colored with a gentle lavender hue.” - Bela’s resting hair color is purple instead of green like Beej!

- “She had an orange-jeweled nose ring.” - Bela and Deb have matching nose rings, since exchanging jewelry is how demons court each other!

- “Shades of a gentle maroon red flickered through Bela’s hair.” - Bela has different colors for her emotions than Beej does!

- “Most were “whales”, stolen away in malevolent Deals to forever be a supply for the demon they were tied to. Slowly withering away to nothing.” - this is inspired by “Doctor Sleep”, because I’m a huge Mike Flanagan fiend.

- “They were all strange, all lacked the innate ability to socially adapt that the other demons thrived off of.” - Autism can run in a family, and it sure does run in the Shoggoth family!

- “He didn’t know why she was upset, but he knew it was up to him to make it better. (Why else was he here?)” - Still partially believes his only purpose is to make others happy, or they wouldn’t want him around.

- “… she hesitated, still firmly grasping the bright green fleece blanket he’d summoned from his room around her shoulders.” - The same blanket Charles got Beej for his room!

- “ “I watched this movie last night, since I couldn’t fall asleep. It was..” their voice caught in their throat, and their breath hitched. Beetlejuice slowly rose from his chair, setting the ice pack on the counter. “… lotta.. big feelings about it, huh?” They rapidly nodded, wrapping their arms around themself. “I don’t… I can’t keep living the way I do.” ” - Ash watched “I Saw The TV Glow”, which is a horror movie about being trans. It gutted me the first time I saw it. Ash had a similar visceral reaction, and it made her rethink how she is living. It also informs a lot of this chapter’s theming, but it is not required viewing for this fic. It is very, very difficult to watch for neurodivergent queers.

- “The living need attention too, Ash. It’s okay.” - This line is partially taken from “Dead Girls” by Penelope Scott, which is a very important song on Ash’s playlist.

- “You feel like you’ll die if you stay there. Or… worse.” - An “I Saw The TV Glow” reference. There’s quite a few in here.

- “Thank you, Beetlejuice.” - the first time they’ve called him by his actual name!

- Anyone spot more Time is a Flat Circle parallels?

- “It was then that Beetlejuice got hit by his first car.” - This is mostly a joke about how I, the author, have been hit by 4 cars. I feel like Beej would be similarly unlucky.

- “… it’s like being a wolf dog.” - This is based on how I’ve explained what it was like to grow up in my household.

- “Memories washed away like chalk on the sidewalk.” - Another “I Saw The TV Glow” reference.

- “Adam and Barbara celebrated their birthdays, which landed a couple days apart from each other, by smelling wine and watching ‘Lord of the Rings’ together. Beetlejuice was invited to join them.” - Based on something Adam made Beej he would promise to do in an earlier chapter!

- “June was full of beautiful sunsets he watched with his family.” - This was, like the previous thing, also listed among the reasons Beej should keep “living” in a previous chapter.

- “At the end of the month, walking to school and the store with Lydia, Beetlejuice realized with horror that Lydia was taller than him. Like, at least half a foot taller.” - Lydia is 5’7” now, he’s just being dramatic.

- “(How could no one see it? He felt so happy, but still he felt pieces of him slowly dying and rotting away. How could no one see that he was rotten? That he was dying?)” - This is partially another “I Saw The TV Glow” reference, and a reference to the ending of the song “you smell of dead flowers” by vslush and cliesel

- “August came like a thief in the night.” - A callback to Time is a Flat Circle! Which is itself an Edgar Allen Poe reference.

- “… they say old man Hirsch signed up for it right before he went missing.” - Yes he is named after Alex Hirsch, creator of “Gravity Falls”. Love ya Alex!

- “ “I managed to talk him down from another viewing of ‘Pride and Prejudice’!” (Another? What was that? They’d seen it before?)” - This is meant to alert the reader that something is very wrong, as “Pride and Prejudice” was brought up before by Beetlejuice himself.

- “Beetlejuice scratched at their left arm. The scars had started to fade.” - He was resorting to self-regulating self harm less enough that his arm was healing before this point.

- “I… I couldn’t.. I didn’t have enough energy to resist the Seal w-.. without a cult.” - Beetlejuice was tricking people to sign up for his cult under the guise of a “Loyalty Program”.

- “Why have they been going missing, then?” … “They swore they were choking on the taste of blood, bile rising in their throat as they felt their flesh between their teeth.” - Beetlejuice ate a few members of his cult. That’s why there’s missing persons in the town.

- “Someone’s hand gripped the back of their shirt, trying to pull them out of the kitchen. Panic spiked within them. Beetlejuice felt the blow to the back of their head, the horrible stabbing agony in their chest. That familiar, terrifying sensation they’d felt over and over and over and- ”- Beetlejuice had flashbacks to being killed during the loop over and over because Charles touched his old wound and it scared him, hence why he lashed out.

- “There’s still time. There has to be.” - Yet another “I Saw The TV Glow” reference.

- “ “Hello, pet.” Time’s up.” - Meant to envoke a terrifying line in “Yo, Girl” from Heathers the musical.

- “I’ll make you wish you could die!” - This line was originally going to be a more blatant reference to a line that Circus Baby from the FNAF series says often, “You won’t die, but you’ll wish you could.”

- “You always bounce ba- ” - Meant to be a reference to this scene from “Adventure Time” which I’ve… never seen…

- “Beetlejuice was distantly aware that Cyrus brought his claws up to his mouth to lick some of the blood off of them. “Choke on it,” they sputtered, although they weren’t sure if Cyrus could understand them through all of the blood that bubbled out of their mouth.” - Meant to be a reference to the horrific death of Captain Rhodes from “Day of the Dead”!

- “Beetlejuice wheezed out a last croak as Cyrus once again gripped their hoof and continued dragging them towards the portal.” - This is meant to evoke the gut-wrenching opening scene of “Scream”. Specifically, the part where Ghostface is dragging Casey away, and she is wheezing out her last breaths, which her parents can hear over the phone. The music in that scene never fails to make me cry. (I cried my eyes out rewatching that scene and imagining it playing when the Maitlands see the basement, but that’s not how things will happen…)

- “I’m sorry I was the one you loved.” - From “I’m Your Man” by Mitski.

[trafficlife]

Kiss Me Quick, Steal Every Secret I Keep

Etho sees his hard task as a test of skill more than anything else. He thinks it's time he shows Tango what he learned.

Word Count: 3041

A gift for @acolorboom

The reward is none.

Etho stared up at the darkening sky, a collection of whispers flooding his mind.

The risk is great.

He held his breath and closed his eyes. He could only hope that the task wouldn’t be completely impossible.

Let me open the door.

At least, for the most part, Etho was good at completing his tasks. How bad could this one be?

Accept your fate.

The scroll appeared in front of him, an ominous aura radiating from it. He walked away from the Secret Keeper—it’s been a few weeks, yet it still gave Etho chills—to read his secret privately.

A few words stood out almost immediately: Grian, wither, warden, battle, deep dark. And surprisingly, Etho actually felt excited for this task. Would it be chaotic? Absolutely, but that’s what these games were made for. He was also very happy that Grian was tasked with the summoning wither—the last time he tried to bring a warden up to the surface, he ended up dying. 

Etho grinned behind his mask. An idea was already forming in his head: he wanted another person to come with him. But Etho didn’t need help. What he needed was an audience. And he knew exactly who would be interested in watching this.

****

“.... Hold up, you want me to do what?”

“I told you: I want you to come with me and see me bring the warden up to the surface.”

Tango blinked several times at Etho, trying to process the absurdity of this situation: Etho had walked onto the Heart Foundation island and almost immediately grabbed Tango’s sleeve and pulled him away from Skizz and BigB. Then, he tells Tango this plan, which pretty obviously seems to be a task. Tango slowly lowered his rose-colored glasses for extra flair and chuckled. “You- You realize this is a crazy idea, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you realize that this could go either very right or very wrong?”

“Yes.”

Tango pursed his lips, tail swaying behind him. “Well, lucky for you, I do like me some chaos! It would be very impressive if you also succeeded to lure the Warden up.”

“I hope I will. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

A surprised noise escaped Tango’s throat and he felt his face burn. The way Etho said that, with a voice sweeter than honey, coupled with a stare so intense but still so gentle, made Tango short-circuit. And Etho, the smug bastard that he was, knew about this. He walked over to Tango, leaning over his ear and whispering “I want to show you what I’ve learned from your game.”

If dying from being too flustered was a thing, Tango would’ve exploded then and there. However, he was already very close to doing so: his face, neck and ears exploded with heat and his pupils were blown wide. His tail dragged across the cherry blossoms, setting them on fire, but he was too flustered to notice. 

Etho chuckled softly and, oh, he was doing this shit on purpose wasn’t he? He stomped on the flames, leaving black petals on the ground. Tango blinked to look at Etho again, trying to hold on to what was left of his resolve. 

“Fine, then.” Tango purposefully ignored the way his voice wavered and he hoped Etho did too. “Show me what you got.” 

****

Somehow, Etho knew exactly where to go when heading to the Deep Dark. Not once did he turn around or hit a dead end; he kept going, as if the directions were seared into his mind.  He was so confident, it was both impressive and suspicious.

“How do you even know where to go?” Tango asked, as he set up a ladder for them to return to the surface later.

“I stumbled across the Deep Dark at one point while I was mining,” Etho said. “I figured I’d save the location, in case I felt like doing something… Well, crazy.”

Tango raised a brow. “Really… Sounds like a task to me.”

“Does it, now?” Etho turned to look at Tango again, the fabric of his mask twitching as he smiled underneath it. “Why don’t you guess what it is?” The question came out a soft, tender whisper that faintly echoed off the cobblestone walls.

Tango sucked in a breath.

Fuck.

That was the only way to summarize Tango’s racing mind: Fuck.

He was green so he couldn’t guess—both he and Etho were aware of that. But even if he wasn’t, would he want to guess? Absolutely not. 

Etho came to Tango, wanting him to see Etho bring the Warden up. And Etho wanted to make Tango proud and not disappoint him. The thought of it made Tango giddy and his stomach swarmed with butterflies. However, in the very back of his mind, a condescending voice hissed at him: This is only a task. He doesn’t really mean what he says. He wasn’t going to listen to that voice. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t having doubts.

“Tango?” Etho’s voice brought Tango back to Earth. “Tango, you good? You’ve been staring at me for a while… Are you thinking about what you want to guess?”

Tango slowly shook his head, swallowing thickly. “No… No, I’m not going to guess,” he responded slowly. “You know that I can’t guess either way, I’m still green!”

“Fair, fair. But if you had to guess, what would you say?” Etho asked, as he went back to digging.

“I don’t know, you have to bring the Warden up to the surface and make sure it kills someone? You do have a hard task and it’s not like this”—Tango gestured randomly— “is a piece of cake.”

It was time to summon the Warden.

Etho sighed. “That’s not it. If only it were that simple—” Sculk coated Etho’s pickaxe and the stone that he had mined. He raised a brow, shaking the sculk from his pickaxe. “Well… Maybe this’ll be easier than we thought.” He made a larger hole for Tango and himself, and the two of them crawled into the Deep Dark.

As expected, it was pitch black, the only light coming from Tango’s tail. Sculk was everywhere, creating web-like patterns on the ground and crawling up their legs. There were some shriekers visible, along with sculk sensors that were barely obscured by its surroundings. They swayed slowly in the distance, similar to how kelp does underwater. Tango took a deep breath, heart pounding against his ribcage. He met Etho’s gaze and they nodded in sync.

But before Tango could leap down, Etho gently grabbed his sleeve. “Are you going to be okay?” 

“Huh? Why?”

“We’ll need the water elevator.”

“Oh. Right…” Tango grimaced a bit at the thought. He couldn't take damage from water but it didn't make swimming any less unpleasant.

“We could also make stairs,” Etho suggested, “if that makes you more comfortable.”

“What, and risk getting stuck and dying to the warden? I don't want that happening to either of us. I'll…” Tango took a deep breath. “I'll take my chances with the water.”

“Are– are you sure?” Etho asked hesitantly. His concern was very touching, Tango has to admit. But the water was far less risky than the stairs. 

“I'm positive.” Tango smiled. “But, thanks for worrying about me.”

“Of course. Why wouldn't I? Now c'mon, let's go.” Etho leaped down from the ledge he made and crouched down. But Tango still sat there, Etho’s sincere words looking in his mind.

Why wouldn't I?

That was a good question, why wouldn't Etho worry about him? Tango couldn't even say he hated Etho, though they'd had their differences in previous games. Tango didn't know if he loved Etho either but, with how eager he is to spend time with Etho, it was becoming more and more obvious.

“Tango!” Etho whisper-shouted. “You coming?”

“Yeah- Yeah, hold on.” Tango leaped down, one of the sensors picking up on his movement. Thankfully, the shrieker didn’t set off prematurely. They lurked closer to a shrieker, like wolves stalking a sheep. Only they knew that the sheep could strike anytime. He met Etho’s gaze and nodded, communicating with his eyes. I’ll watch your back.

The ground cracked. A dark claw emerged from the fragmented sculk, followed by a low growl. Etho whipped his head towards Tango, handing him a water bucket and making sure none of it spilled. “Get up the ladder- pour down the water when you reach the top.”

Etho understood instantly and went closer to a sensor, making a swift movement.

The shrieker activated in sync with the sensor, the wail bouncing off the walls. Once it faded away, there was tranquility for a moment. They knew very well that the calm wasn’t permanent.

Tango nodded, holding the bucket with one hand and climbing the ladder with another. He shouldn’t have been worried about Etho; he was essentially an expert at this and was already on his way to winning Decked Out. But still, there was a lingering fear that Tango just couldn’t shake off. Maybe it was the nature of this game. If Etho were to get hit—which Tango doubted would happen—he couldn’t recover easily. And if Etho died, it’d set their progress back. Tango knew Etho was strong. Strong, quick-witted, charming, sensible… For goodness’ sake, Tango, this was a life-or-death situation, it was not the time to fawn over Etho.

Tango could feel the ladder shake underneath him, the heavy footsteps of the warden sending shivers up his spine. He knew Etho could avoid the warden but he didn’t want to delay him. The moment he reached the top, Tango took his bucket and poured it down, creating an elevator for Etho to go up. Tango leaned over the edge, eyes wide with anticipation. “Please, come up all in one piece,” he murmured under his breath, despite his confidence in Etho’s skill.

Suddenly, there was an explosion. 

It was mostly muffled but still loud enough to make Tango jump. And it sounded like it came from underground.

Tango physically felt his heart plummet to the pit of his stomach. No, no, no, no, no, please don’t let Etho be dead. Etho was only green but the thought of him dying made Tango sick with dread. He pulled out his communicator, frantically looking through the names, and-

He was honestly torn between sighing in relief and continuing to hold his breath.

Good news: Etho didn’t die. Bad news: Lizzie did. And Tango felt incredibly bad, especially since she’d be alone the entire game. 

 In the water, he saw a figure slowly rise to the surface and heard a low growl from below. Etho’s head popped out of the water, brushing his soaked hair back (which wasn’t hot at all, thank you very much!) and swiftly climbed out. “Warden- warden’s on its way. Stay close to me, I don’t want to lose you.”

Tango nodded, tail flicking behind him. The warden crawled out of the water, outstretching his limbs as its tendrils clicked. Tango felt Etho grab onto his wrist and pull him away, paying attention to make sure the Warden was following them. “We’re bringing him to spawn,” Etho murmured against Tango’s ear, his breath lightly tickling his skin. Tango’s own breath hitched but he still managed to nod. “By the way… What was that explosion sound?”

“Lizzie. She died.”

Etho winced a bit, some remorse flickering in his eyes. “Oh, gosh… That really sucks. We probably should’ve gone to her party, huh?”

Tango nodded solemnly. “Yup. But hey, we can make it up to her after the game ends! That’s the least we could do right?”

Etho chuckled a bit. “Ah, Tango, you’re always so thoughtful.”

Tango beamed proudly. “I try to be!” 

The warden was right on their heels, stumbling about and flailing its arms around. Somehow, Tango and Etho didn’t run into anybody for a long while. The moon was high in the star-speckled sky, shining down ominously as if it knew the chaos that would follow. Eventually, they saw Grian talking to Scar. Grian saw Tango, Etho and the warden waddling behind them, a mischievous smirk on his face. He was hugging something black to his chest and- wait, was that a wither skull?

Tango blinked several times, trying to make sure that he was seeing properly. What was that pesky bird planning? BigB, who had just approached Scar and Grian, seemed to notice what Tango and Etho were planning because his jaw dropped and his eyes widened. When Scar turned around and saw the warden, he was so startled he was pushing back on his wheelchair.

“Etho! Is this- is this central enough?” Grian asked, trying to stifle laughter from Scar’s reaction. He moved closer to the firepit, setting up soul-sand in a very suspicious position.

“Wh- Grian, what are you doing?!” Scar asked, having now noticed the wither skulls that Grian was holding. Scar scrambled to take the skulls from Grian before he placed them down but Grian was too feisty to let go. Tango watched the spectacle, eyes wide. He then turned to Etho, who had a mischievous glint in his eyes. Clearly, there was much more than he was letting on.

“Wait, Etho, did you know about—?” 

Tango was interrupted by a loud, raspy hiss, as a wither emerged from the soul sand, growing in size and flying into the sky, obscuring the moon. There was absolute chaos. The warden had stopped following Etho and Tango and went to chase the next player it detected, wither skulls rained down from the sky, and everyone was screeching “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” at the instigators.

Grian had the largest shit-eating grin on his face and Etho definitely had a similar expression under his mask. Tango, on the other hand, was biting his lip to keep himself from mirroring that expression. He should have been more scared by the wither but he really wasn’t. Partially because he was so close to Etho and that mattered more than anything. 

Mumbo and Jimmy seemed to be running towards the warden rather than away from it and they because of it. The sonic boom rang in Tango’s ears, in synchrony with the lighting that struck. First Jimmy, then Mumbo right after. The flash made Tango’s heart jump but Etho remained completely calm. 

“Where’s the wither?” Tango asked, running alongside Etho.

“Guys- guys, please.” Scar, in his wheelchair and somehow outpacing the wither, rolled up next to Etho and Tango, scared shitless. “Please, do- do you want to give me a hand?” The skulls rained down behind the trio like a meteor shower, plummeting into the Earth and creating rather large holes. The grass and the flowers began to wilt, shriveling up and dying as the skull drained the life out of them. “Please- I don’t know how much longer I can keep up with this—” 

Before Etho or Tango could respond, the two of them fell into a pit that Scar narrowly avoided. Scar went back to being chased by the wither, begging for others to come out and help him, by leading the wither directly into their bases. Honestly, the fact that Scar was able to avoid the wither for this long was incredibly impressive. 

Tango groaned a bit, bringing his hand up to his hair, accidentally elbowing Etho’s chin in the process. “Oh, sorry, I-” He immediately shut up when he noticed the position they were in. Etho was directly on top of Tango, nearly laying on his chest. Etho’s eyes were piercing through Tango’s, as if he wanted to read his soul. And Tango couldn’t help but wonder, would Etho know how Tango feels about him? 

Tango didn’t really want to get out of this position. And, since Etho didn’t move, neither did he. Their bodies were flush against each other, and Etho’s face was so close, his white hair was brushing against Tango’s skin. The mask slipped off of Etho’s face and-- if he lowered himself any more, their lips would be touching—

Oh, void, the realization that he was so close to kissing Etho made Tango’s face bloom bright red.

“Tango.” Etho’s voice was a hushed whisper and, to anyone else, it would’ve been completely muffled by the wither’s explosions. But Tango kept all of his focus fixated on the man who was laying on top of him, ignoring the wither and the world that was falling apart around them. And it was all because Etho was here, his world was right here. “I didn’t let you down, I hope.”

“Never,” Tango gasped instantly. “You could never let me down.”

Etho chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that.”And then he leaned in, closer and closer and closer until it was finally enough. His lips were warm against Tango’s, and it made him melt almost instantly. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been waiting for this forever. Tango’s hand snaked up into Etho’s hair and oh goodness, it was so soft. 

“Etho- Etho, the wither killed the warden!” 

“Etho, stop making out with Tango, and come press the damn button!”

Grian was shouting at them from… somewhere. But they were too busy to care.

 Tango, dizzy from suffocation, reluctantly pushed Etho off of him. “Gah… I had a feeling that part of this was part of a task.”

“Well… Not the part where I asked you to come with me,” Etho murmured. “I did that voluntarily. I was serious when I said I wanted to impress you.”

Tango couldn't stop the giggles climbing up his throat, a large smile on his face. “You did, Etho, you really did!”

“Are you talking about my warden wrangling, or the kissing?”

“... Yes.” Tango smirked. “I'm not going to elaborate. Go press that button!”

Etho nodded, lightly kissing Tango on the cheek, putting his mask on and leaving with Grian to the Secret Keeper. Tango lay there in the withered grass, hands on his cheeks and grinning. Nothing could ruin the happiness and satisfaction he felt at this moment.

… Not even the fact that Tango forgot to complete his own task. 

He'd make it up next session. But now he just wanted to make out with Etho for the rest of this session.

[ryoko1232]

Here's a wip that has more words

Friends

Ships - intrulogical

Status - chap 1 on a forgotten series

Logan and Remus r friends?

“Ugh! everything got sooo boring once Logan told them how to deal with me!” Remus was walking around the imagination. Who care if he’s talking out loud, there's no one here, or so he thought. He decided he wanted a peak at Roman’s side and went to the border, when he saw Logan. Remus noticed how close Logan’s face was to some sorta mold. ‘This is the perfect time for my revenge!’ Remus summoned some salt and threw it at the mold, causing it to explode while he laughs.

“Oh my god! you should've seen your face, HAHAHA!” he cackled as Logan just stared at him. “wha?-” before Logan could ask anything, Remus explained “That thing hates salt, it’s their natural enemy” Remus was still laughing. “Fascinating” Logan got up, writing something down while Remus was surprised he didn’t get scolded for once. “Uh yeah… I know other cool things it can do!” Remus said while Logan was still examining the mold. ‘why am I trying to get his attention? I should be getting my revenge!’ Remus looked around before Logan spoke, “it would be nice to look at this in a lab, though I highly doubt you have one, or at least an appropriate one. I’ll just take some and study it in my room”. “What? Oh! I can make a lab, I know what's in one, so It's easy for me to just create one!” Remus said, he already regretted opening his mouth, “really? Am I being tricked? I mean, sure, go ahead! But i wont allow you to do anything to me” Logan said.

Remus cleared a path so no thorns or bear traps would hurt them while they walked. Remus led him to an open area, there was blood, and withered flowers around, and with a flick of his wrist, there was a building now too. They played around with the mold, and Logan would write down their findings, it was actually quite fun.” I should get going, I’ve been here for an hour” Logan pointed out, which surprised Remus, it’s been a while since someone willingly spent more than 30 minutes with him. “uh- you know the way back to the door?” Remus asked, “obviously not your's, I’ll go through Roman’s, I memorized the path from here to the border” Logan stated. “I could show you the way to my door” Remus said, in an attempt to spend more time with him, “No thank you, I know your door leads to the dark common room” Logan left after saying that. But, something about how he said that just left a sting on Remus

Remus doesn’t know why, but that memory just popped up in his mind. Maybe it was the fact that Janus lied about coming, or the fact that Logan, who know little to nothing about him, spent more time with him willingly then his own best friend. Either way, he wanted Logan attention again, “there's lots of weird fungi around here… maybe we could experiment with it!” Remus said to himself, he went out to locate all the fungi or mold he could find. He thinks fungi and mold are the same thing incase your wondering, Logan tried clearing that up but Remus has yet to grasp the idea.

“You want to hang out again?” Logan asked, “I mean sure…?” he said, still unsure if this was some kind of joke. Remus took his hand and teleported him to the imagination, and led him back to the lab, sure enough, there was a wall of fungi and mold. Logan started with organizing it as there was no system, “Ya really don’t gotta do that, plus what's this system?” Remus said, “it's the number of sprouts you got, once we’ve dealt with all of them I’ll reorganize them from most to least dangerous.” Logan responded.

They went through about 8 of them, Logan writing all of their results on a notebook he found in the lab. He named most of them, except for one Remus wanted to call ‘Dick balls’, you can imagine how that one looked. it took them around 3 and a half hours before Logan’s phone rung, it was his alarm. “Oh! I have to go and help Patton with something” Logan said already leaving, “oh uh okay-” was all Remus was able to say before Logan left, closing the door behind him, “bye…” he sighed as he placed the fungi back to its spot.

Remus never understood why everyone didn’t want to hang out with him, so what if he was a little violent, it gave him spice! Still, no one gives him the time of day! Who wouldn't wanna have blood one their hands? Thats fun! They were all just pussies, and idiots. Janus suddenly appeared, “Jan!” Remus said with twice the excitement Janus had for him. “Yes, hello dear” He looked around. “OMG it's been sooo long! Let's go-” Janus cut him off, “not right now dearie, I’m just seeing id I've left something of mine here” silence for a few moments after the deceitful saide said that. “Why do you barely hang out with me!” Remus pouted, “My schedule has just been busier after the lights accepted me” lie, he was looking for a game he had lend to Remus so he could play it alone.

“Fine, I don't care, I've found a replacement!” Remus smirked, “A replacement, sweetie?” Janus laughed. He knew Remus was lonely, but this made him feel a bit guilty, he knows he shouldn't risk his own mental health over others, but if Remus was summoning creatures to replace him. “Yep! Logan!” Janus froze, “Logan?” Why… what would Logan want to do with Remus? This won't end well, Janus can feel it.

[the-terukane-archives]

Hi Princess Carry ^^

If interacting with the other Anons is illegal well what is the law going to do? Arrest me? (But I'm a silly little guy, they can't do that) Anyway clothing my posts don't take much time. I color the beginning of the paragraph and then write :)

Anyway Brainworm dump but actually it's just a fanfic I'm too lazy to write in full (some Aoinene as a treat)

Demon summoning (& college au too b/c why not) :>

Nene hears from her friend Aoi that you can summon a demon and get wishes. Nene being rather straightforward wants a boyfriend. Aoi gives her a ritual page that supposedly works.

She excitedly goes home to do the ritual, not really expecting anything to happen. Supposedly, it was a ritual of practically marriage. If nothing happened, Nene wouldn't tell a soul of her desperation. If it did work, she would get a demon boyfriend.

However, she doesn't realize it, but she did mess up the pronunciation of the demon's name. She says her wish for a partner out loud and a cloud of smoke covers the room.

In the ritual circle, instead of a handsome demon boy like the ones she read in novels is... AOI?! She seems equally as confused as she sits there. A demon tail, horns, sharp nails, and unfamiliar jewelry adorning her. Nene is flustered beyond belief.

Aoi likes Nene. She's an amusing human and so open as well. It makes Aoi mildly protective of her. When Nene came to her whining to her about wanting a boyfriend again, she conceded and finally gave her something. Not a dangerous ritual that would bound Nene's soul to anything.

Or bound anything dangerous to her, but a friend that would go along with Nene's whims and not hurt her. The demon would be bound to Nene, and be unable to harm her. It was something Aoi specifically made for Nene.

SHE WASN'T EXPECTING HER TO BE THE ONE BOUND! Not that she hated the idea. She actually felt rather happy with the outcome. Nene couldn't get tricked by another demon if Aoi was around.

Nene was her wife. It was a flimsy word for demons. Brides and grooms were not something demons took very seriously. Yet... Aoi's heart was beating a little quickly at the thought.

When they get to classes the next day, Aoi is stuck to Nene a bit more than usual. No one really notices, but Nene does (and one other person). However, Aoi refuses to move or explain. Nene just gives up trying to pry answers from Aoi and continue to classes. (She doesn't notice the missing ritual page from her bag)

Teru had snatched the page in curiousity mostly. A demoness stuck to a human like glue was interesting enough. However, the demoness seemed more attached to Nene recently, which sparked his curiousity. And after seeing Nene frantically put away the page after she accidentally dropped it, he knew what to look at first.

It was easy to pluck it off her, but it was hard to bring attention to himself. The demoness seemed rather on alert around him. She could tell he was an exorcist, which gave an interesting challenge Teru was willing to complete.

Seeing the ritual page, he was confused how on earth a demon would agree to these terms. It was beyond unfair to the demon. A partnership that the demon had to listen to the human's will completely, disappear if the summoner was in a committed relationship with someone else, and they wouldn't even get a soul out of it.

How was that fair? Although... The page was worn, but not destroyed. It was a one-time-use ritual. It looked like if someone had tried to use it but failed somewhere. It was usable, and Teru had a dangerous amount of curiosity.

He preforms the ritual correctly, the page withering away in his hand. He sit on a chair as he watches the smoke form a humanoid shape. Teru nearly trips on his feet by how quickly he got up once he saw the demon. A clock demon?! How did anyone convince a time demon to such an unfair contract?!

The demon stares at Teru with an unreadable expression and eventually the demon kneels. "I am your husband, my lord. I will do my best to serve you."

HUSBAND?! Teru was panicking internally now, but kept his expression calm. He needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

Akane was under the impression, the human Aoi wanted him to serve was a woman. Did he mishear her? Well, Akane wasn't one to complain, and the man was rather handsome even by demon standards. The arrangement could be worse.

Also this human seemed competent, he wouldn't mind seeing what sort of mischief he would like Akane to aid him with. And well, judging by the energy of the man's soul, he was powerful too. Maybe this arrangement would turn out to be something interesting.

Interesting things are rather hard to come across once you've seen a few centuries. And this human is proving to be worthy of Akane's peaked attention.

Akane helps Teru with missions. And turns out Akane isn't very fond of other inhuman creatures. Seeing most as beneath him or too brutish. Teru is rather interested about it, since he seemed just fine with him even though demons typically considered humans beneath them. How curious.

(eventually both couples kiss and stuff)

— Colorcoding Anon (idk I might write a full fic about this later. But I am curious what people would do with this concept tho. I'm eepy. I might write later)

colour-coding anon this is literally my everything, you should definitely write a fic about this

[aryasage]

im screaming why are all your wip titles bangers

ok u asked me for 3 so i see this as justified. gimme "jiejie's fine! for sure!" (u had to know i would ask about that) and "there's a part of myself i'm missing" pls >:D

i will not ask u about cat angst bc i remember it clearly from the time u killed my grandpa

jiejie's fine! for sure!

the title does not quite fit the tone because, well, there are multiple fic ideas on that doc…the first of which corresponds to the title. (and you've seen quite literally all that was written for that first fic before i realised i had no actual Plot and gave up)

so the real fic on this doc is still jiejie getting hurt. bc ofc. but maybe not quite in that…denial vibe. it's the story of how when jiejie says he killed a wyrm solo at seventeen, he's not lying. but he's maybe not telling the full story. and yes, this is why meiko and viper snicker when spica brings it up in raftf. there's not much written seeing as i am far better at thinking of stories than actually writing them down, but here you go :)

Has Jiejie mentioned how much he hates Devourers yet?

The spikes they constantly make the ground erupt with are annoying enough, but the shrieks that they make—the petrifying screams that make him freeze, even for a split second—Jiejie would do anything to not have to endure those ever again. 

(Well, not anything; if he's going to be a Summoner, he's going to have to be able to fight any kind of Void creature, but still. They're annoying. More than just annoying, really, but he's not going to admit that to himself, let alone to anyone else.)

there's a part of myself i'm missing

in which viper realises he's been inadvertently handing over a massive advantage to the ruined summoners thanks to a gift from meiko that he's gotten so used to he forgot he always has it with him. and since it's me, hurt/comfort ensues

(ft scout and showmaker and some more damwon summoners because self-restraint is a long-forgotten myth)

“Scout,” Viper says in a low voice, trying and failing to keep it steady. “Scout, this is a tracker. That—that Meiko has access to.”

Scout pales. “You couldn’t have thought of that before?”

“I’m sorry. I…I didn’t think of it. Not until you brought it up,” Viper says quietly. 

“Besides, you’re one to talk about not thinking of things, Scout,” Showmaker interjects.

Scout shoots a withering glare at Showmaker that is only met with a satisfied smirk. “I swear to the gods, Showmaker…”

Showmaker’s grin only widens, and with a huff, Scout turns back to Viper. “Viper, you need to take it off. If he can track our every move—” Scout shudders. “You know what he can do with even the slightest bit of information. We might as well be handing over all our plans,” Scout says.

i'm glad you like the titles i have a lot of fun naming them hehe

and i would HOPE you would remember but i did NO SUCH THING this is SLANDER. LIBEL, IF YOU WILL. LIES. DECEIT.

[lazyliars]

The Quackity Meta: a Tale of Two Absolutes

More than anything else, Quackity wants control, and to never, ever lose his own autonomy. And that is why he despises Technoblade.

But wait, how is Technoblade a threat to Quackity's autonomy? Techno is all for individual freedom! He wants to eradicate the government so that no one can be controlled!

There's the question though... How do people exercise control within the framework of a video game like m/inec/raft?

“a person exercising power or control in a cruel, unreasonable, or arbitrary way.”

Power on the Dream SMP cannot be translated one-to-one with real  life power. In real life, yes, a government had infinitely more power than an individual, for numerous reasons. But on the Dream SMP, the government's power is always directly tied to the power of the individuals who are willing to defend that power.

Technoblade is powerful. This is not debatable. How he uses this power, historically, has been a mix of generosity and self-interest*, although primarily the latter.

Generously, He gains resources and then distributes them to his allies during the Pogtopia Rebellion, gearing everyone up and giving them a fighting chance against Dream. However, in the aftermath of Tubbo's being appointed president, Techno turns on them, swiftly and mercilessly. The moment that it becomes clear** that Pogtopia's interests don't align with his own, he crushes them with the aim to prevent them from ever recovering.

( *I use self-interest as a neutral term here. Everyone on the SMP is selfish to some extent – it doesn't make them evil, and in fact has been treated as a positive at times, as well as a negative.

**I want to note that whether or not Technoblade knew of Pogtopia's goal of reinstating the government is unclear. It would seem that from Techno's POV that he didn't know, or assumed that it was a minority who wanted another government. But on the other hand, no one was actively lying to him about their intent, and people like Tommy and Quackity made their goals very clear.  Further doubt is cast on the idea that Techno had no idea when you take into account that he enchanted the Netherite armor in the vault with worthless enchants like Fire Res.

Ultimately, there's no way to know until it is confirmed by cc!Techno himself, and it doesn't pertain that much to this analysis, but I'm aware that it's a hotly debated topic so I wanted to address it.)

It can be argued that Techno's destruction of L'manberg, both the first and especially the second time, was necessary. It can also be argued that it was cruel and a disproportionate retribution against both culpable and innocent parties. Extant of these arguments however, how does it feature into control?

Well, we can’t talk about control without mentioning the most controlling force on the server and the other person on Quackity's hitlist, Dream.

Dream is a tyrant. I don't think anyone can really make an argument against that in good faith at this point. He ticks off every box, no matter how vague or esoteric. This makes the interactions that Quackity and Techno have with him very interesting.

Quackity despises Dream. He's one of the earliest adopters of the hating-Dream-train, to the point that some people have compared him to Cassandra, a priestess who was cursed with the vision of prophecies that would always be true, but never believed. And indeed, Quackity's apprehension of Dream comes in as early as Pogtopia, and grows at a steady pace after the fact.

But despite his rightfully calling out Dream's hypocrisies and his controlling tendencies, Quackity was largely ignored on this front, especially when the time came to exile Tommy and Quackity basically predicted the next arc – If they gave Dream this concession, they would never be able to get out from under his thumb. Flash forwards to the Green Festival, and the moment Tubbo hands over the discs, any illusion of nicety drops and Dream proceeds to destroy them, side by side with...

Technoblade has always had an amiable relationship with Dream. From their first proper interaction on the server being Dream giving Techno some hefty resources, to their snap team-up on Doomsday, they've had a smooth time, with some notable bumps.

Techno fought against Dream during the Pogtopia rebellion, but when it became clear that Dream was more invested in chaos than his other allies, Techno temporarily allied with him to summon the Withers and drive the nail deeper into Manberg’s coffin.

The only time Techno has really bothered to challenge Dream directly is when he came for Tommy in exile. Techno went to great lengths to protect Tommy, hiding him and distracting Dream.

He did give Dream the option to call in his favor and take Tommy, but there are arguments to be made that he did this more as a challenge – that Tommy is worth the favor. Again, we probably wont ever know.

The difference in their relationships with Dream is polarizing. It also reflects the difference in personality – Quackity is an aggressive, ambitious person, whereas Techno leans more towards passivity and caution. Quackity is looking for enemies to challenge, where Techno is avoiding them, people who actually stand a chance against him most of all.

Technoblade is an individual with extraordinary amounts of power. Others have pointed out that he is rarely challenged by other characters or the narrative, and regardless of the merits or flaws in that, it paints him as nearly untouchable. His being in the good graces of Dream only adds to this.

And like with Dream, the only way that people have been able to threaten Techno is when they work together. The Butcher Army, for all it's flaws, managed to capture Techno through numbers – with Tubbo and Fundy (barely) holding off Techno's blood rage while Quackity snuck off to take Carl hostage. And they would have gotten away with it too, if the other most powerful person on the server hadn't stepped in – both by pointing Techno to a totem of undying in the days before the attack, and by getting Punz to cause a distraction and directing Techno to the final control room, where he could escape with Carl.

So, if the most powerful person in the world can only be threatened by people working together, and the most common form of organization is by government, then what does it say about Technoblade, who wants the government destroyed?

People like Tubbo, Fundy and yes, Quackity, all benefit from organizing and working together. They all tend to be less armed, less ready to defend themselves, and completely unable to stand up to titans like Techno and Dream on their own. It's safety in numbers, but it's also control, and control is power.

Ranboo's insistence that Snowchester is a Government is interesting when viewed through this lens. Ranboo is another person who is insanely rich, and able to defend himself and his belongings consistently. Ranboo doesn't need other people to defend him – he's living with Techno and Phil not out of necessity for his survival, but out of need for connection with others.

This seems to be the main difference he finds with Snowchester, which has a more structured environment, geared to defend itself and it's people, if harm should come their way.

Which makes sense, considering it's founder, Tubbo, holds no earthly belongings, and Jack, another prominent member, has made a character trait out of losing his things every other day. The two of them have no conceivable way to defend themselves against people who are stronger than they are. But together, holding the keys to nuclear armaments, they can suddenly play on the field of gods.

The anarchist commune, despite having all members working together and being on good terms, aren't really an organization, they're individuals with common goals and interests. They don't need to live together to be strong, they're all already strong, they choose to be near each other because they want to.

Snowchester is not a government and has no ruler, but together, it's members hold power. They have sway in the world when they work as a collective, and most members have a vested interest in keeping themselves and each other defended because of this. Consequently, the “identity” of Snowchester becomes more prominent, resulting in the flag, the uniforms and the, well, identity.

(Now, the more perceptive among you might have noticed that I basically just compared Techno Phil and Ranboo to the ultra rich 1%, which. Um. Is a pretty serious comparison to make about in a block game rp?

And I wanna say that I don’t think this was necessarily intentional on the parts of either the CCs or the characters, and beyond that, it’s just one way of examining the text. This analysis is by no means the “Right” way to view the story, just a different one.

Regardless...)

Techno uses his considerable power to further his own goals, first and foremost. This is not inherently good or evil, it just is.

Contrast with New L'manberg's cabinet; Four people, pooling their limited power to further their shared goals. Not good or evil, just a way of exercising power.

But power is not static. Power is fluid and changing, moreso now on the SMP than ever before, and Quackity and Technoblade are fighting to define what Power means going forwards.

Techno is fighting for the status quo, knowingly or not. Individuals with power should lead the world, and those without should strive to emulate their betters. He destroys all forms of government, which strip away the rights of the individual in exchange for hierarchy and consolidated power within that hierarchy.

At it's best, this is a very freeing ideology, where nothing and no one can hold back the individual. The world is your oyster if you are willing to work for it.

But at it's worst? “Violence is the only universal language,” is the key phrase. Where does this ideology leave people who aren't strong? Where does it leave those who cannot fend for themselves? If Violence is the only universal language, then the weak have no means to speak.

Quackity is fighting to get a foothold for a contrary ideology – One that prioritizes words over violence and offers alternative methods of gaining and exercising control, such as through currency and conversation. Quackity has tried to varying degrees of success to implement this on the level of his own individual power, such as during the elections, but his attempts at employing this on a grand scale have all been short-lived.

At it's best, this ideology can uplift anyone, regardless of their strength. It encourages more communication, more commerce, and thrives under, you guessed it, strong government.

At it's worst however, it creates a brutally controlling environment. Where a few people gain absurd amounts of power through the complex machinations of a fiat currency, and are then able to use their sway and influence with governing forces to exercise power that they would never be able to hold on their own.

Again, neither of these ideologies are inherently good or evil. They both have flaws and benefits, and benefit no one more than perhaps Techno and Quackity respectively, while hindering the other.

Techno is benefited by anarchy because he holds incredible amounts of individual power. He is the strongest person on the server, he is rich beyond anyone's wildest dreams, and on a meta level, he's straight up good at the game. The current status quo puts him firmly at the top of the food chain, and this is most obvious on Doomsday, when he and the other two most powerful individuals (Dream and Philza) come together and crush the combined forces of New L'manberg. They are not meaningfully challenged in any way, whatsoever.

Meanwhile, Quackity is deeply hindered by the current status quo. He's not strong, he's poor, and he's vulnerable to anyone who wants to bully him with brute force. On a meta level, cc!Quackity just straight up does not play m/inecraf/t as much as some of the other people that on the server. (To be clear, I do not mention that as a criticism, just to contrast Techno. Neither of their levels of play are better or worse for content, they just add to the experience differently.)

On the other hand, in a government? Quackity “Law Student” HQ is suddenly on top. He's charismatic enough to debate with Wilbur “Can Talk His Way out of Anything” Soot during the elections, and come out of that arena smelling like roses. Back during the days of El Rapids, Quackity held his men back from conflict with Dream, and talked him into a corner of technical truths where Dream had to concede that he viewed El Rapids as an independent nation if he wanted to get involved with their conflicts.

And Techno, while he is brilliant and an English Major, suddenly loses a lot of his intimidation factor if he has to respect laws preventing brutal murder. Techno can certainly debate, but his go to conflict resolution is usually violence, and if you take that away, you take away the threat of challenging him. Because make no mistake, challenging Technoblade right now? Is suicide.

And this duality, this grey morality and clash of ideals, is why Quackity is my favorite character on the SMP. He isn't strong. The power he holds is tenuous and balanced on a knife's edge. It would make more sense for him to stay quiet, keep his head down, and if anything, try to change things from the shadows, where he'll be in the least danger.

But he isn't quiet. He doesn't just challenge authority, he challenges the authority; Dream, Wilbur, and of course, Technoblade.

And in all but one of those matches, he's come out with a concession from his enemy gripped between his teeth. He schooled Wilbur in the debates. He forced Dream to grant El Rapids Independence at a time when he hadn't done so for New L'manberg.

But he failed miserably when he challenged Technoblade. Quackity lost that fight in the final control room before it began. He lost the moment he formed the Butcher Army. He would have lost if he managed to kill Technoblade, and he lost still when he died.

He lost because he conceded that the only way to achieve his goal was through violence. He decided that the only way to establish himself and New L'manberg as powerful? Was to kill Technoblade. And he lost that fight and he always will. There was never a way that he walked out of that fight with the victory; Quackity lost the ideological battle long ago.

But not the war.

As of writing this, Quackity is in the process of introducing an economy to the Dream SMP, on Sam's initiative. There is no action I can think of that is wiser for him to take right now. Now, when Dream has been deposed and there's a vacuum in power; Now, when people are getting tired of endless violence and the loss it brings; Now, when people are looking for something new.

An economy is a direct challenge to Might Makes Right. Trading, supply and demand, politics. It offers a new way for people to obtain resources and a direct alternative to brute force; other methods to pay for slights and breaches of honor and etiquette. No more will pet wars be fought with iron swords and shields, but with money! A healthy sum of cash for the murder of Fungi!

If Quackity can get this system off the ground (and with Sam's help, he definitely can,) the stage would suddenly be tilted in the favor of not just Quackity, but the people who he has associated himself with most closely – Tommy, Fundy, even Schlatt. They're all business men, all scammers. This could be Quackity's world, and he's damn well intending for everyone to live in it.

We’ll have to see what Techno thinks of this - Quackity hasn’t made any moves to start another government, and an economy doesn’t inherently contradict anarchy. But it does hold a potential threat to Techno’s current power.

And as for Quackity? What will he do once he’s at the top? Will he finally become a true tyrant? Will he usher in a new age of equality and justice? Or will he eschew all of that in favor of personal riches. For once, the cards are in Quackity's favor, and we might get the chance to see what he does when he holds real power.

[sleepyowlwrites]

Hiiii, Sleepy! :D For the ask game, specifically as many WIPs as you're willing to cover: Tomato Soup: A scene that went different from planned. Also, in general: Clam Chowder: A scene that has special meaning to you

why do you want me to work so much, Breezy, I thought we were friends.

clam chowder - a special meaning scene!

this one where Jet and Rune sleep together for the first time

He stands, pulling her up with him before he changes his mind. They’re still holding hands, so he tugs her over to his bed and finally releases her so she can crawl in first.

When he settles down on his side, there’s a decent amount of space between them. It doesn’t feel right, so for all that this should be terrifying or strange, Jet puts his arms out and Rune slides forward to rest in them.

“You don’t need this,” he murmurs, stating a fact. “We’re strong and can live without each other. But it’s too early, and I can hold you.”

“So why not?” Rune finishes the thought, her breath meeting his collarbones. “Feels good, actually.”

“Will we talk about it later?” The day might be slowly approaching but so is sleep.

“No. We don’t need to. We know what this is.”

Jet feels the world start to slip away but whispers, “What is it?”

Rune sighs against him, contentedly. “Home.”

tomato soup - scenes that went different from planned!

first of all - I do not plan scenes. I have vague sketches in my head that can be easily erased and resketched as needed.

second - yeah I've totally changed course mid-draft (or mid-baby-draft which I can't decide if that's worse or not) so then scenes went woop! and landed hard at the bottom of the stairs where I left them because oh well.

this is gonna be long so I'm gonna have to cut

so in summon story I originally wrote this scene:

“I can’t believe you summoned a Shidha in your first week.” Zan polished his twin daggers, probably staring at Shae a little too intensely. “No wonder you have so much power.”

Shae shook her head, mouth twisting into a regretful grimace. “No, see, I-” she visibly winced.

“I made an array to summon a drakis, but I erased it. When the Shidha showed up, Grimes and I had no idea how it slipped through. A Shidha can’t be summoned without an immaculate array, so there must have been one left withering on that spot that was never cleared. The combination of the arrays could have formed a crack. I did check the ground before I traced my own array, but if the blood isn’t scorched then,” Shae shook her head again, her cheek caught between her teeth. “I don’t know. Shidha are crafty, and I was even more inexperienced then.”

Zan felt his eyes growing wide.

“I had this much power, well, I had a lot of extra power before the Shidha incident.” She rubbed along her arms. “The Shidha didn’t attach to me, not completely. Grimes gave up a bone to dismantle my array completely and whatever what was underneath, and the Shidha couldn’t attach to that. I didn’t bleed, either, so how it keeps on tracking my summonings and showing up I have no idea.”

summon story was originally a dark academia set in a fantasy world and the rules for summoning were different. now that it's just fantasy with video game inspirations, I've changed a lot of things. instead of Shae being a summoner with a lot of power, she just comes from an important family. this thread was originally how she reunited with her half-sister, but now her half-sister finds her because they're both investigating the trail of this one summoner who happens to be the wip's antagonist.

so now this:

“You will kill for me and I will kill for you. But only one life.” She had pointed to the terms in the array, linked to the summoning by her own blood.

The shidha had considered her with something like mockery, something like pity. “One life,” it echoed, the pleasure of the idea slithering out of its form palpably. “Bleed on it, then.”

where Rhea makes a deal with a shidha is a separate plot point, and doesn't have adverse effects on Shae. instead, their reunion is about Rhea's quest for revenge:

"You're not welcome because you act like you don't even want to be here!" Shae had to clench her hands into tight fists around her skirt to keep them from grabbing at her sister. Her half-sister. Her very-much-not-dead half-sister. "I did wish you were alive and safe, but you clearly didn't care about me. Didn't you assume I was dead? Did you spent any of your precious time wishing that I had survived the fire? Or is revenge the only thing you care about anymore?"

"Revenge is such an ugly word." Rhea threw her last pebble into the water and met Shae's eyes with all the calm she couldn't muster herself. "I'm enacting justice. Isn't that what summoners do? Or what they should be doing, anyway."

so in youth story I originally wrote this scene:

“The front door of this place is basically a back door.”

Evie angled her upside down body a bit so she could look at Cal while she asked, “I’m sorry, what?”

Cal threw a sunflower seed at her. It bounced off her nose and onto her lilac shirt. “I mean, this is like an underground, back door type of club we’ve got going on. The front door is literally in the back of the building but also it just is one metaphorically? Figuratively? One of those words. We’re a back door club.” He squinted at the rest of the sunflower seeds in his palm dubiously. “Right?”

Evie slid down the couch with her feet still propped up on the back, but her head almost touching the floor. Her hands dangled off to touch it and hold herself while she flipped over to stand up. “Yeah, I guess,” she said, a little breathlessly, still looking as cool and unruffled as ever. “We’re a back door club. Literally.”

“And figuratively.”

“And figuratively. Toss me another seed.” Evie opened her mouth and waited while Cal sorted through to find a good one for tossing, presumably. When he finally found the right one, it found its destination in Evie’s mouth as per usual. “Keep ‘em coming.”

Cal dutifully threw seed after seed while he continued his thought process out loud. “Why are we so secretive about this club? It’s not like we’re doing anything. We don’t even drink the alcohol R so carefully stashed for us. Not that Bell would let us, but. Still. We’re just a bunch of kids talking about stupid stuff and feelings. There’s nothing worth hiding.”

“Isn’t there?” Evie held up a hand. “We’re all hiding from something. We meet here because we all feel that way and we want a secret place. We want a dumb club that exists for no other reason than that we’re all lonely kids with too much money and way too many emotions to not become delinquents. If we didn’t pretend to stash alcohol or punch each other once or twice a week, that’s what we’d all be. You know we would.”

but that doesn't work anymore because I changed the story and the characters' personalities so even though the basic sentiment remains attached, the club is not a club and it's just the friend group instead.

so there's no thesis, there's just shenanigans:

"He wasn't!" Mark plopped down onto a chair, exhausted. He had not anticipated this happenstance being a result of their newly minted acquaintanceship.

Cal pat his arm soothingly. "Of course not. If R was going to flirt with you, he'd be much more obnoxious about it. What happened next? Did you answer the person who asked?"

"R did. He said, 'yeah, we're mortal enemies."

"And you were offended because you thought you were friends."

Mark stared at Cal. Irina was also staring at Cal, but he couldn't figure out what her expression was supposed to be. He really must be transparent.

"Yeah," he said.

Irina shot up from her chair. "That's ridiculous. Mark and I are the new mortal enemies of the group. I'll go kill R."

Cal looked up at her, still fairly bright but with a strange expression traveling across his face. "Mortal enemies who care enough to punish their mutual friends for perceived offenses?"

Irina peered down her nose at them both. "What other kind is there?" And stormed off in that elegantly noisy way of hers.

so in dirt and the doing I wrote this:

Something is going on.

Rune had shown up with three bags of supplies for the garage fridge and spent much longer than usual discussing something with Moss in his office. Jet, finally resigned to the fact that he sort of worked at the garage now that wasn’t a student, had been working on someone’s motorcycle when Rune came in.

She’s still back there, talking just loud enough that Jet can hear snatches of things when he goes to grab a different tool. It’s nothing to go on, something about a house and two weeks and old furniture. He tries not to actively listen in, because if Rune wants him to know something she’ll tell him, but all the curiosity he’s never had digs itself out of the woodwork whenever Rune is around.

Jet shakes himself and hums a broken tune under his breath, tuning out any other noises besides his work.

and then in the google doc it says "finish later maybe" and that has not yet happened. I don't think it will.

hope you didn't mind reading so much, Breezy.

[kcatta-wodahs]

MC Who Does Not Fear Death x OM! Demon Brothers

Or maiming, or apparently any other consequences. You’ve walked into this situation with absolutely no filter and no fear. Time to tear down every structure of Devildom society.

Lucifer

You look at him with a withering stare when he tries to intimidate you into behaving.

“I was summoned out of my trashy apartment to this place, where literally anyone could snap me like a twig on accident. I’m just working on the assumption that I’m already dead.”

He sternly looks at you. “You’re under my protection during your time here. No harm will come to you.”

You snort derisively, which visibly irritates him. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t come back to haunt you if it happens.”

As you continue through your life in Devildom he keeps calling you out for meddling and all that, like usual, and he HATES that you literally *do not care* when he threatens you.

Like HE knows that he wouldn’t hurt Diavolo’s transfer student but YOU are supposed to be AFRAID of him dammit.

His frustration at this ends up turning into a form of respect. You’re about the only person who will stand up to him, and tbh like you’re so fucking fragile but you’ll yell at him all day? That takes guts. Annoying guts. But you’ve got guts.

But also STOP IT. He has enough stress in his life and now he’s constantly terrified that you’ve decided it’s a great idea to adopt a baby balrog

Which you did once. He’s just afraid that “Flamin Hot Cheeto” is going to come back since you somehow managed to imprint on it.

despite the fact that the BABY could easily tear your arms off on accident

Not to mention he gets the flack for EVERY SINGLE ONE of these following stories. You stress him out so much. Please. Please, stop. 

He’s almost to the point of begging. The Avatar of Pride is three steps away from either locking you away for the rest of the year or begging on his knees for you to calm down. 

 But you know you’d find a way out if he locked you up so no worries. It’ll be a good challenge.

Mammon

“Well you WON’T be dead because it’s my job to protect you! Are you doubting the Great Mammon?!”

Stupid human. Yeah, you’re fragile and weak, but that’s why HE’S your bodyguard now, and there’s no way in hell (lol) that he would let you die on his watch.

Lucifer would kill him.

You welcome the challenge, and he thinks it’s funny at first but quickly becomes a flustered mother hen.

“NO, we are NOT going out to Madam Scream’s at 3am! Do ya know what kinda CREEPS are out there at 3am?!”

And you sneak out the fucking window.

He has had more heart attacks in the past week than he has had in the last 100 years of life.

He starts agreeing to your ridiculous adventures JUST because then he can actually keep an eye on you. 

He adores the chaos of the laugh that bursts from you every time you narrowly escape death. 

He HATES how often you have to NARROWLY ESCAPE DEATH. So he will never tell you.

He almost doesn’t have time for his own shenanigans anymore, because all his time is taken up by trying to make sure you stay alive.

And you’ve figured out that if you turn *any* of your ideas into a money-making one, he will join you whole-heartedly.

So you bribe him because what’s money to you anymore anyway?

Leviathan

I mean he doesn’t leave his room much, so tbh he probably just gets texts from you that make him want to scream.

‘hey uh levi say if someone were to hypothetically be stuck in a succubus’ devil basement to become an unwilling sacrifice to asmo what would that person, hypothetically, do?’

‘probably die’ is usually all he sends back

You always come back, because he always sends a text to the other brothers. In that case Asmo came to rescue you himself and scold the succubus.

You become the friend that he makes funny throwing-shade reddit posts about. (Devvit? Devil reddit? Eh??)

‘Levi so this has nothing to do with anything but is there a cure for a dangerously potent ‘always win at rock-paper-scissors' curse? Asking for a friend’

‘Friend is being held hostage tho so maybe be quick about a response’

He didn’t even know that kind of curse existed. None of them did. What the fuck did you do.

How did you get taken captive by playing rock paper scissors?

He doesn’t know. Nobody does. He expects the play-by-play so he can recommend it as a new anime to his favorite producers. 

Somehow your chaotic plans end up with stories almost as great as TSL. 

Beelzebub

He physically carries you around.

He’s like “fuck this you can’t get into trouble if I’m holding you.”

If Beel’s on MC watching duty, he’s almost the only one who is successful, just because you physically cannot get away. 

But at the same time, he is very easily bribed. 

So yes, he’ll go to Madam Scream’s with you at 3am. Sounds like fun.

But he is very protective after losing someone he cares about (who you remind him of so much….) so he keeps you close when you’re out and about too.

If you start getting into a fight with some other demon he literally just takes the fight for you and wins with no trouble at all.

You like having Beel with you.

Especially finding street festivals! You’re in a whole new world and there’s a MILLION things to try. Beel is more than happy to try them with you.

But that leads to arguments about whether deadly creatures to humans are still deadly when dead. 

“No, you can’t eat that it’s on fire. I know even small fires hurt humans. I’ll eat it for you.”

“That hot sauce makes every demon I know cry. You really shouldn’t buy a bottle. Please. No, don’t try it. No, that’s too much for one-- oh. Oh no.”

He forgives you as long as you don’t actually get hurt and you give him your leftovers.

Asmodeus

“If I get wrinkles because of you I promise you will never hear the end of it. I will curse you forever.”

He swears on every single one of his lovers that you have started giving him grey hairs.

GREY HAIRS, MC.

Why can’t you just settle down and let them all take care of you? You don’t have to prove anything to the other demons!

But you will. You’re living in Devildom now, and by everything unholy, you are going to live that life to its fullest extent.

He was thrilled at first when you were all for joining him at his nightclubs and parties. Now he hides every party’s date from you.

That time you almost threw yourself off a balcony to try and emulate a very drunk demon’s newest dance move.

“I need to stay TRENDY, Asmo!! I’ll be fine!!”

Ever since learning Demonus doesn’t affect humans you have challenged every single stuck-up tough boy to a drinking contest.

And every single time you win, Asmo has had to *narrowly* save you from being killed by said demon.

And you just say “he deserved it” every time.

And like, yeah okay, he probably did but YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE.

Somehow, you manage to out-party Asmo.

dON’T TELL THE OTHERS but he lives for the times when you practically fall asleep on his shoulder while coming home from a rager. You may not get drunk, but when you’re sleepy, you’re so affectionate and something in his heart melts.

Satan

At first, Satan was all for the rebellious “life life with no restraints” thought process you explained to him.

I mean, he didn’t like the assumption that he and his brothers couldn’t control themselves to not accidentally kill you, but also… fair.

But he didn’t realize that this mindset followed through for EVERY demon in ANY place.

Including RAD, where old and wizened demons were *really* not used to being contradicted

Which led to you “accidentally insulting” your 5000 year old Human Studies professor by giving them a pop quiz on current memes (which they failed).

And left Satan as the one who had to make sure that said professor didn’t kill you. 

And the thing is, this keeps happening.

You’ve written all over the school’s library books, pointing out every error.

You *continue* to argue with the demons who threaten to kill you when you say silly things like “No, Solomon did not learn his sorcery at Hogwarts because Hogwarts isn’t REAL.”

(Solomon, meanwhile, refutes you vehemently and seems to grow three inches taller every time you glare at him.)

Satan assures you that he values knowledge and truth and all that, but could you maybe find a less dangerous way to push it?

No can do, Satan, because you already had plans with Mammon to use a curse that writes the history of the actual Sorceric Academy that Solomon attended like 400 years all over the desks in Human Studies. It’s activated by anyone saying “Hogwarts”. 

No, no, Satan, it’s brilliant, because you can’t do magic. It can’t be you who did it.

Satan, no don’t tell Lucifer.

I thought you hated him. Satan, wait. 

You are the only person in the history of ever who convinces him to come to Lucifer for intervention. You wear that badge with pride and also deep, deep, bitter sadness. 

Belphegor

Like, through the plot your willingness to be a thorn in anyone’s side just to get more information really works for Belphie.

He’s like all I gotta do is ask? Sweet. Yeah. Go, human.

But then when he’s all big and threatening and “im gonna kill you” and you just kind of look at him and nod like “yeah, this checks out.” 

Frankly, that’s rude, MC. 

And then he keeps threatening to kill you and it doesn’t even PHASE you like. You just keep listening to him rant and going “OH i think i get it now”

He liked that you were always looking for more information when he was the one pushing you around, but now?

No. Human, he is going to KILL you here, STOP ASKING QUESTIONS.

And then you do the time-travel bit, and see that he *literally has killed you in one timeline* and you just like

Shrug it off and keep talking about Lilith???????

Tbh what probably stopped him from doing it again is just that you’re fucking insane, MC 

“MC, you literally just saw yourself dead in Mammon’s arms”

You wave your hand vaguely in his direction and say, “Yeah okay, but can we talk about the lack of communication in this household because it is tearing this family apart.”

What the fuck MC

When he’s back to normal, tbh he loves that side of you. He loves getting into shit when he’s not sleeping. He will 100% encourage you and be there to make sure that you *don’t* actually die again.

He’s the only one who doesn’t actually try to stop you. Who knew he was so into chaos.

But if you try to drag him to a plan when he should be sleeping he will be like Beel and literally just hold you down while he naps dammit. You brought this on yourself. He needs sleep.

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: you are a mermaid and you save a handsome man from drowning but little do you know it’s not his first rodeo when dealing with mermaids. seonghwa, a former prince, is currently hongjoong’s first mate and boyfriend. hongjoong is the captain, the pirate king of the most savage crew across the seas. and you want nothing to do with them. not because they’re pirates, but because they’re humans…

ship: mermaid!reader x prince/pirate!seonghwa x pirate!hongjoong

genre: little mermaid!au, pirate!au, angst, fantasy, romance

author’s note: demon!jongho x wizard!yunho let’s get ittttt

warnings: some swearing, mentions of demonic activity & torture, hell references (idk, just in case someone’s uncomfy with that), mentions of drowning, kissing

word count: 3.3k

chapter one ☠️ chapter two ☠️ chapter three ☠️ chapter four ☠️ chapter five ☠️chapter six ☠️ chapter seven ☠️ chapter eight ☠️ chapter nine ☠️ chapter ten ☠️ chapter eleven ☠️ chapter thirteen ☠️ spotify playlist

Jongho’s POV

"It appears your time is up," I smirked triumphantly the minute I snatched Hongjoong away from his ship. Humans were so foolish it would almost be amusing if a tiny part of me didn't feel bad for them. Key word: tiny. 

Collecting human souls and becoming more powerful was a far more pleasant activity than whatever sense of guilt had briefly visited me. As I was saying, humans: 0. Me: 8524. Or was it 8525 already? I began losing count of how many souls I'd acquired throughout my immortal life. 

And it's not like I wasn't a benevolent demon. I had warned Hongjoong what would happen if he achieved true happiness. It wasn’t my fault he found joy so quickly. It wasn't my fault he couldn't find a way to be miserable in order to prolong his life on earth. Or should I have said life at sea? Damn pirates and their weird habits.

"Please, I need more time," Hongjoong begged wretchedly.

"If I had a soul for every time I heard that line. Actually, nevermind. I do have a soul for every time I heard that," I shrugged smugly.

"So what's one more week to you? You can't die, right?" he bargained relentlessly.

"Fair point, but a deal is a deal. Any last words?"

"I just want to say goodbye to my friends. My soul will be yours for eternity, so what's the rush?" Hongjoong kept talking. 

Ah, humans and their never-dying hope. If it wasn't so pathetic, it would have been admirable.

"Hm, let me think...No," I rejected his plea without even bothering to consider it. 

And just as I was about to put an end to his mortal existence and absorb his soul, I felt a surge of faintly familiar power calling me. No, summoning me. Oh, what the hell?

🔮🔮🔮

Yunho's POV

"Hello, demon," I greeted Jongho reluctantly.

"What do you want, wizard?" he scoffed. "And why have you trapped me in this ridiculous circle?"

"I have my reasons," I responded vaguely. "Care to explain what you've been intending to do with that pirate's soul?"

"It's none of your business," Jongho rolled his eyes.

"I suggest you tell me unless you want to stay here forever."

Jongho laughed maniacally. Ever the narcissistic prick.

"You think this can hold me down?" he moved towards me swiftly, as if intending to break away from my spell. 

Once he realized there was an invisible wall preventing him from escaping, he eyed me with a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

"Now, I'm intrigued. How did you become so capable?"

"Answer my question first and then I'll decide whether to tell you," I suggested, fully aware of the fact I had the high ground in this situation. 

Maybe not forever like I'd threatened, but it would certainly be long enough to make Jongho speak.

"Very well. I was intending to devour his soul. I don't seem to have enough pirates in my collection. Too many corrupt politicians, which is kinda gross, don't you think?"

"When will you put this obsession of yours to an end? Aren't you already powerful enough down there?"

"Obviously not powerful enough since you've managed to entrap me."

I shook my head in disbelief.

"I can't let you take Hongjoong's soul."

"Why?"

"Like you said before, it's none of your business," I wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.

"Humour me, wizard. What's so special about this pirate?"

"Alright. To put it simply, I've invested too much of my energy and magic to his loved ones' well-being. If he is taken away from them, all my efforts will have been in vain. It would be a waste."

😈😈😈

Jongho's POV

"Who are they? His loved ones?" I asked despite myself. 

Even though I was furious at Yunho for summoning and tricking me into this circle, my inquisitiveness was growing by the minute. Wizards usually didn't meddle in demons' affairs. But for some reason, I kept running into Yunho every now and then. And though he was a bit annoying, he certainly wasn't boring. So, I kept playing along.

"A mermaid and a former prince. Satisfy your curiosity?" Yunho replied without giving too many details. Okay, I'll bite.

"Juicy," I murmured. "And what exactly did you invest in them?"

"Let's just say I have helped them transform in ways previously thought impossible."

"Aw, come on, you've got to give me more than that," I insisted.

"Maybe I will. But first, you're gonna have to promise me you won't take the pirate's soul."

"And what's in it for me?" I pouted. "You know I don't do things for free."

"Bloody demons," Yunho muttered under his breath. "I'll give you something that will make you as powerful as you want."

"As powerful as the devil himself?" I blinked incredulously.

"Yes," he confirmed.

"And what, pray tell, is that?" 

"A wizard's soul," No. He couldn't... "Mine, to be specific."

Idiot. Beautiful, impossible idiot.

"You dare compare yourself to the devil?" I cackled.

I didn't understand it myself but a part of me was actively trying to talk him out of it.

"Not right now. But in a few years, I'll be even stronger. With my powers in your collection, you'll be invincible."

"You're willing to give up your soul and yet you don't even know that pirate?"

"I don't need to," Yunho waved me off.

"And if you trick me? If you don't become powerful as you suggest you will?" 

I kept trying to change his mind. It was insane. He was presenting me with an unbelievably good possibility and I was attempting to dissuade him. What was wrong with me?

"Well, then, you'll have eternity to torture my soul."

"Hm. Tempting, I admit."

🔮🔮🔮

Yunho's POV

"Then, just agree to it, Jongho," I pleaded.

"You must be really desperate to call me by my name," the demon observed correctly. Damn, how I hated that he was right.

"Don't pretend you haven't made up your mind already. No other wizard would ever offer you something like that," I couldn't take no for an answer.

"So what makes you so different from other wizards?"

"I don't know. But the fact remains. You can't reject me. You're far too greedy to let go of your ambitions now."

"This is your last warning, Yunho. If I give up the pirate's soul and take yours instead, you will regret it. Human souls wither in time and their miseries become less painful. A soul like yours? It could last till eternity and beyond. And every second in hell will be agony. It will destroy you little by little. And even when you might think there is nothing left, it will still persevere against all odds. I wouldn't wish such a fate on anyone."

"Aw, are you worried for me, demon?" I teased him. "You don't think I can handle it?"

"Shut up and get me out of this obnoxious circle."

"I take it we have a deal, then?" I said confidently.

"Regrettably so."

"You'll let Hongjoong go?" I needed a confirmation.

"Haven't I made it obvious? What could I possibly do with him when I'll have you in a couple of years?"

"You didn't strike me as the patient type," I laughed, while undoing the spell trapping him.

"I can be patient for the right reason, wizard."

"The right reason being my immortal soul?" I joked, even though every cell of my being was telling me to run, even though I was already beginning to regret my impulsive decision. My love for humans would be my downfall...

"Can there be any other reason?" Jongho, now free, traced his finger across my jaw. "Hell, I can't wait to devour you."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

☠️☠️☠️

Hongjoong's POV

That damn demon just disappeared?! I had no idea what was happening but before I could waste any more time wondering, I decided to take advantage of the situation and try to escape from wherever his lair was. However, it was too dark to see anything and no matter how much I ran, I couldn't find a way out. I was beginning to panic, thinking about the demon's potential return when I felt a pair of strong arms pulling me. Not given the chance to protest, I could only determine that I was suddenly being taken away. Soon enough, I was greeted by a familiar sight that reminded me of the happiest memories of my life. I was back on the ship! I couldn't believe my luck and whoever my mysterious saviour was, I knew that I owed them everything. Letting go of me, I attempted to discern their features but in vain. The pitch-black night surrounded us from all sides.

"Who are you?"

"A friend. That's all you need to know for now."

"How can I repay you for what you did for me?" 

"You can't," the stranger replied sadly, obviously leaving something out. I was too terrified to ask what they meant by that. So, I asked something else, instead.

"Will I see you again?"

"At sunrise. I need to talk to all three of you at once."

"All three of us?" 

But before I could inquire what exactly my saviour was suggesting, they disappeared. Were they referring to Seonghwa, Y/N and myself? I groaned quietly and figured I'd just have to be patient and wait until the morning. Until then, I couldn't do much but see Seonghwa again (since I assumed Y/N was back in the sea during the night). I wasn't sure whether (and if so, when) the demon would return for my soul, so I hurried to our room. Imagine my distress when I didn't find Seonghwa there. Running a hand through my hair, I hurried to check my other crewmates' rooms. There was no trace of any of them. If something had happened to them while I was at the demon's lair...I would never be able to forgive myself. Even if I didn't have much time left, I was determined to spend every second of it looking for my friends. Eventually, I decided that checking Mingi's cell was the only solution. If he was still there, he might know something about my crew's disappearance. If he wasn't...then, I would have no idea where to go next.

"Mingi?" I yelled but in vain. His cell was empty. Fuck. Was this some wicked game? Had the demon taken all of them just to mess with me? Where was everyone? I couldn't think of anything but...No, this was too dangerous. But it's not like I had something to lose, right? I had already sold my soul. So, I abandoned my ship and jumped into the sea.

"Y/N! Y/N!" I started screaming while swimming further away from the ship. She probably wouldn't be able to hear me. But I was desperate, okay? And besides, what other choice did I have? To my utter disbelief, she appeared on the surface soon after I began looking for her. An involuntary sigh of relief left my mouth. But then, it hit me. It was a full moon. Which made Y/N more like a siren. Oh, fuck it. If I was about to go to hell, I might as well be drowned by her instead of have my soul absorbed by that demon.

"Hongjoong!" she exclaimed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I lied and swam towards her, completely disregarding the potential danger. "Where did everyone go?"

"They went looking for you, of course!" Y/N explained. "And I had to return here, because of...well, you know why."

I smiled nervously.

"And Mingi?"

"Yeosang let him go," she said.

"Yeosang?" I was shocked.

"I don't know, he said they would need more hands or something," Y/N chuckled at the cruel irony of it. "Yeo's been visiting him. He said Mingi's...different. Kinder."

"Why do I have difficulties believing that?"

"Everyone can change, I guess," she shrugged. Wait, when had she gotten so close?  Almost too close...

"Y/N..." I whispered her name in warning, but she didn't seem to hear me. Wrapping her arms around my neck, I felt unable to move. Completely transfixed by her, a small fraction of my brain was terrified of the fact I didn't feel terrified, at all.

"I missed you," she responded with a song-like voice. "Come with me."

"Okay," my mouth agreed even though my mind was still struggling to accept this. Then, she pulled me under. This was it, then? Surrounded by the endless water, her lips touched mine, giving me a breath of air. A couple of moments later, I realized something unexpecting. She wasn't trying to drown me. She was trying to save me. Her siren nature had made her take me beneath the surface. But her human nature was the one providing me with oxygen. After what felt like centuries of kissing, I felt Y/N letting go of me and pushing me upwards. What had just happened?

🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

Reader's POV

Finally! Oh, how much you'd missed the sweet sunrise! You swam towards the ship. Memories of what had taken place mere hours ago flooded you. You wondered if Hongjoong would be angry with you. You had to explain everything to him and it couldn't wait any longer. You hoped he'd understand...And that he had made his way back home safely.

"Hongjoong!" you cried out, overwhelmed by guilt. He appeared soon enough, looking absolutely wrecked, like he hadn't slept at all. Knowing him, that was probably the case. You climbed up the ladder and the first thing you did was hug him. You were surprised he didn't flinch away. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know you didn't," he replied calmly.

"I thought I could control her. I didn't think she'd try to drown you. I tried my best to stop her but..." you were rambling before you could realize what he was saying.

"I know, sweetheart, I know."

"Wait...what?" you looked up at him in confusion.

"If you hadn't kissed me, I would have drowned. I could feel you struggling against your siren nature."

"So, you forgive me?" you mumbled nervously.

"There's nothing to forgive," Hongjoong unconsciously repeated your words.

You smiled at him gratefully and then, it hit you.

"Hold on, if you're not mad at me, why do you look so miserable?"

"Seonghwa and the crew still haven't returned. After our nocturnal encounter, I thought it sensible to come back to the ship and wait until dawn. I have no idea where to start looking for them."

"Oh, shit, I was so focused on fighting against my siren self that I forgot to tell you," you mentally slapped yourself. "They took the boats and said if they don't find you, they'll come back to the ship in the morning."

"So, why aren't they here yet?" Hongjoong asked anxiously.

"Aren't they?" you grinned and pointed towards the horizon, where a couple of boats were approaching the ship.

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa's POV

"Oh my God," I whispered as soon as I saw Hongjoong on the ship. Safe and sound. I ran towards him and enveloped him in a suffocating hug. "Do you have any idea how worried we were?"

"Relax, Hwa, I'll tell you everything I know," he promised.

"You better! We resorted to letting Mingi go in order to search for you!" I hissed.

"You know I can hear you, right?" Mingi complained.

"Yeosang kept saying some nonsense about how he was a changed man or whatever," I kept going.

"Still right here," Mingi announced awkwardly.

"As you might have guessed," Hongjoong interrupted us, completely unbothered by Mingi's freedom. I assumed Y/N had told him already. "I was taken by a demon."

"We figured," Yeosang confirmed.

"I told them about your stupid deal," I groaned.

"Hey, it's not stupid, Yeosang's still alive, isn't he?" Hongjoong argued.

"It is stupid. It's not like I would have killed my favourite pirate in the universe," Mingi intervened.

Yeosang had the audacity to wink at Mingi!

"Shut up, Mingi," Hongjoong said and continued telling us of his adventures. "Now, where was I? So, the demon told me he'd take my soul and like, I tried to talk my way out of it but before I could achieve anything, he disappeared. Naturally, I tried to escape from wherever I was but it was so dark I couldn't see a thing. Eventually, I was saved by some stranger who teleported me back to the ship. My saviour said we'll meet again at sunrise. That's when they vanished, as well, and I noticed you all weren't on the ship. I checked Mingi's cell and of course, it was empty. So, I decided to wait until the morning."

Hongjoong and Y/N exchanged a strange look that led me to believe that wasn't the whole story. I made a mental note to ask them in private what that was all about. But until then, we had more pressing matters to discuss.

"So, the demon just let you go? This doesn't make any sense," I pointed out suspiciously.

"I don't know why or how but I'm grateful I get to spend more time with you. All of you," Hongjoong clarified. "Even Mingi, for fuck's sake."

Mingi chuckled cutely at being acknowledged like that.

"You think the demon will come back for you?" I inquired.

"No idea, but let's hope not," Hongjoong said.

🔮🔮🔮

Yunho's POV

As I was a man of my word, I teleported myself back to Hongjoong's ship at sunrise. And apparently, my timing was particularly appropriate, because the crew had gathered around Hongjoong and he was obviously telling them of his recent experiences. Making myself invisible on purpose, I appeared in the most dramatic fashion, taking them by surprise.

"Holy shit!" Seonghwa yelped in shock but soon enough, remembering how I'd helped him, visibly relaxed. "Yunho!"

"It's the wizard of the lighthouse!" Y/N exclaimed gleefully.

"Hello again," I greeted them.

"Wait, I know that voice!" Hongjoong announced. "You're the guy who saved me last night!"

"In the flesh," I confirmed, a little too smugly.

"You said you need to talk to the three of us," Hongjoong repeated my words. "Did you mean Seonghwa, Y/N and me?"

"Aren't you a clever pirate?" I patted his shoulder proudly. "No offense but I'd like to keep our conversation private. For now."

"None taken," another one of the pirates shrugged.

Hongjoong led me, Seonghwa and Y/N to a room where I assumed we'd be able to have some privacy. As I informed them of the deal I'd made with Jongho, their faces lit up with a mixture of relief and terror. Relief, I imagined, because they were happy Hongjoong would stay with them. Terror, I figured, because humans and mermaids alike, were quite compassionate by nature, and they probably felt bad for me.

"I don't understand..." Hongjoong spoke quietly. "You don't even know me and you would give up your soul for me?"

"Funny, that's exactly what the demon said," I shook my head. "The truth is, I'm too invested in the three of you already to watch him break you apart. First, with transforming Seonghwa's face so that he can have a new life away from his parents. Then, with fulfilling Y/N's wish to have legs during the day so that she can be with you two. Now, this...I can't explain it myself, but seeing the three of you happy, I feel like it's worth the risk. If Hongjoong was taken away from Seonghwa and Y/N, all of the good magic I've done would go to waste."

They looked at me with so much gratitude and worry I couldn't bear it and told them something I probably shouldn't have.

"Don't worry about my soul. I have a plan that demon will never see coming."

"Do you need our help?" Y/N asked.

"I'm not sure yet, but if I do, I'll come to you."

"Please, do. We owe you big time," Seonghwa responded.

"Don't mention it," I waved him off. "But until then, enjoy your lives."

To be continued…

[fresh-prince-of-denmark]

New Dawn Fades — Literary References Analysis Part 4: The Id, the Ego, the Superego

Cyberpunk Spoiler Warning 

Here’s part four of me going through all the endings and looking for the literary references in each of the endings, which I believe allude to what happens to V/Johnny, possibly in future DLC. If you haven’t read my other posts, you should read them here (Johnny’s Mikoshi poem, V’s Mikoshi Poem, The Star ending) first since we’re gonna loop back to them later.

New Dawn Fades was such a pain in the ass; because Johnny is such an art hoe, I found three different poems/stories scattered around. Not only that, but two of them are translated from Polish, and one of them us from Ovid’s The Metamorphoses. I studied English literature so…forgive me if this is super surface-level. Also, stuff gets lost in translation, so the original meaning sometimes gets lost. If Polish literature is anyones niche, please teach me a thing two, but all I can do now is my best! But from what I could tell, damn…paints a pretty depressing picture. Let’s start with the two Polish writers first:

Bolesław Leśmian, "Why so many candles...”

Why so many candles, these faces above me?

No more harm shall ever meet my body.

Everyone is standing - while here alone I lie -

Grieving, feigning. One must be true when one must die.

And so, buried under these wreathes of leaves, I lie -

Solemnly - Agelessly - Solitarily.

Death, gone silent, once again rushes to my head,

Though by now I know all my comprehension is dead.

How I loathe to become accustomed to this grave,

To be what I once was - that is all I crave.

This one is…yikes. Depressing. As I talked about in previous posts, V’s poem is more pessimistic: nothing we do matters, we’re all just dust in the wind, you know, the good stuff. Johnny’s poem has a very different stance; art makes us immortal, and we can change the world, etc. With this…Johnny seems to have given his larger-than-life attitude up in favor of V’s resignation that life sucks. Much like Prufrock in V’s poem, Johnny is lying “Solemnly - Agelessly - Solitarily.” Almost as if he didn’t want V’s body, not as a selfless gesture…but because he has grown accustom to his previous form. In Johnny’s version of Alt’s poem, it almost seems as if he embraces being a construct — the form of immortality it, and his legacy, grants him (remember all that hokey about being a golden bird to sing his message to the youth?). Blackwall was a kind of death Johnny knew — yet now:

“How I loathe to become accustomed to this grave,

To be what I once was - that is all I crave.”

Interesting. We never find out where Johnny is going when he leaves Night City, but it makes me wonder. Is he truly starting anew? Or hoping to fix what went wrong?

In the next room, we find another poem, this one an excerpt from Labyrinth by Wisława Szymborska:

So this way or that,

Or no, the other,

By ear or by your gut,

By your wits or by shortcut,

By any means necessary,

Cutting crooked corners.

Past whatever row in a row

Of corridors and gates,

Quickly, in the meantime

Your time grows short,

From one place to another

To one of many still open,

Of darkness and plight

But also delight, held just ajar,

Where there's joy, though sorrow

Lies well-nigh nearby,

And elsewhere, somewhere,

Wheresoever and whereabout,

Fortune in misfortune

Like a parenthetical parenthesis

Acceptance of it all

And suddenly - a fall

I’m a little shaky on the meaning behind this one. My immediate response is to compare it to the poem found in The Star — which contains a piece from The Marriage Between Heaven and Hell by William Blake. The overarching use of this poem, by my interpretation, is an explanation for what the Blackwall is: hell. But not hell how most would perceive it. In fact, according to Blake, hell isn’t so bad. Our views of heaven and hell, good and evil, are wrong. Everyone contains both good and bad within them, and neither is wrong, simply two opposites; between conformity and rebellion, art and obedience. If we were to look at it this way, V would most likely belong in “Heaven,” the world of the obedient, those who play by the worlds rules (at least, in the beginning of the story, before Johnny influences them toward the rebel path), while Johnny represents “Evil,” and would belong to Hell. In some dialogue choices, Johnny will even state that he no longer believes he is a human, and is in fact code, no longer belonging in the world of the living. In this scenario, both have found themselves where they don’t belong. Not only that — but one is supposed to be a healthy mix of so-called “Good” and “Evil.” The “Soul,” and “Body,” are one, not meant to be separated. Uh oh. The tone of this poem in Johnny’s context just seems so…lost, to me. Someone who found their other half, their perfect foil, a soul and body as one…and now it’s gone. What does one do after such a loss?

And finally, the most grim of the three stories: Ovid’s The Metamorphoses. Specifically, Book III, Narcissus and Echo. This one most likely has the greatest significance; not only is it a shard you can pick up, but an open copy of the book can be found in Johnny’s hotel room, drawing further attention to it. 

If you haven’t read it, let me give you a quick and dirty summary:

At the beginning of the story, Narcissus’ mother, Liriope, asks the prophet Tiresias if her son will live to see old age, which he replies “only if he does not know himself.” One day when Narcissus is 16, he is out hunting when he finds a mountain Nymph named Echo. Echo, as one might guess, was cursed by Hera and can only repeat what is said back to her. You know. Like an echo. Echo falls in love with Narcissus at first sight and follows him throughout the forest, waiting for him to speak so she can communicate with him. Narcissus eventually gets separated from his hunting group, and calls out for them, which Echo…well, echos. Eventually Echo reveals herself and Narcissus freaks out, telling her basically he’d rather die than be with her. She hides in a cave and pines until she whithers away from hunger, and only her voice remains.

Many other nymphs fall for Narcissus because apparently he’s a straight up snack, but he rejects all of them. Apparently someone gets so salty about it, they summon the Goddess of Vengeance to do something about it. She leads him to a crystal clear pool, in which he is able to see his reflection. Remember the thing about knowing oneself? Yeah…At first, Narcissus thinks the reflection is a different person and falls in love. He smiles, the reflection smiles, so it must like him back, right? Eventually he reaches to touch it, and realizes that it’s him. He freaks out, and much like Echo, stays by his reflections side until he withers away. Having a total meltdown, he cries out “Alas!” which is echoed, by well, Echo. Her voice lived on, and she watches him die as he calls “Farewell, dear boy. Beloved in vain.” Once again, Echo repeats this. Narcissus dies and all the thirsty hoes make a pyre to burn him, but when they go looking for him they find the Narcissus (flower) instead (nooo...dont transform into a flower, you’re so sexy ahaha). 

So what does this mean for Johnny/V? Well, two main things pop out to me: transformation, and reflections. Much like Echo and Narcissus are reflections of each other, V and Johnny reflect each other. As @ellitira pointed out in my analysis of the Star, V and Johnny constantly reflect each other. One of the most obvious ways is their literal reflection; if you look in a mirror during a relic malfunction, you’ll see Johnny, not V. But scenes are reflected as well; the first and last time V meets Johnny, they grab him by the shoulder from behind to get his attention as he turn to face them. The first time Johnny and V have a civil conversation, they’re sitting at a table in Tom’s Diner, Johnny’s foot on the table. This mimics their conversation in Mikoshi with Alt. Their conversation about taking a bullet for one another in the Pista Sofia where Johnny is sitting backwards on a chair while V is on the ground is also repeated moments later, as Johnny and V have their final conversation about who will stay and who will go with Alt. Johnny also mentions that he spent his first few weeks in NC laying in bed, staring at the ceiling fan. When he awakens in New Dawn Fades, what is he doing? Staring at the ceiling fan…in Pacifica, not far from the Pista Sofia. The boy who he gives the guitar to is even wearing V’s “favorite shirt”…the one we see them wearing in the first scene they’re introduced. There’s probably loads more, so feel free to share if you find any more. If you want to know more about why this is significant, make sure to read about V’s version of Alt’s poem. 

So why do these reflections/echos matter? Well, what does one do with a reflection? Reflect. Johnny begins to examine himself through V, and he begins to realize he doesn’t like what he sees. If V calls him the man who saved her life, he’ll respond with “you have no idea how badly I want that to be true.” He tries his best to right his wrong only after this conversation with V, not only in Burning Love and Chippin’ In, but in other ways too. For example, it’s Johnny’s idea to call V’s loved ones to say goodbye on the roof scene, because “he wished that he had had a chance to.” Because of V, he grows, changes, and becomes a better person, just as much if not more as he seems to change V. As he leaves V’s grave, he even states that he has changed; that he’s wiser now, and won’t make the same mistakes. He states he won’t dwell on what happened, but somehow I doubt that, considering everything above.

The other theme of Narcissus and Echo is of transformation; after all, metamorphosis actually means "to change or transform.” Echo becomes, well, and echo, and Narcissus becomes a flower. V and Johnny also transform; not only physically between engram and human, but they transform one another. Both of them fall in love, and neither will move on. Echo falls in love with Narcissus, and Narcissus falls in love with his reflection. Because they refuse to transform the way they feel, they must die and transform physically. So who represents who in this scenario? In a way, Johnny is both. Johnny is a bit, well, narcissistic. He’s self-absorbed in his flashbacks, and adored by countless fans, yet ignores them in favor of his own company. He thinks everything is about him (Alt’s death, Samurai, etc.)  and is willing to die for his beliefs. He is also constantly reflecting on himself through V. However, what really kills him is losing Alt; she tells him not to follow her (much like Narcissus tells Echo to leave him alone). He does anyway, and avenging her leads to his demise.

What’s especially sad about this is the way Johnny views transformation; he is very concerned with the idea of one’s individual identity, and hates the idea of turning into something you’re not. He despises that he’s going to turn V into himself by force. He hates dolls because he sees their behavior chip as something that changes them into something they’re not. He’s scared of V going to Blackwall not because it’s death, but because they “won’t be the same.” I don’t think Johnny ever wanted V’s body; again, not as a courtesy, but because it’s not him. After all, he could have just let nature take its course and let himself re-write their psyche, but instead he actively tries to save them as best he can. If V chooses to let him have their body, he hardly seems happy about it; especially compared to how happy he seems to see that part of him will live on in the way V refuses to give up should they choose to live on. By taking V’s body, he is no longer himself; rebel, rocker-boy, legend, and the guy who promised to save V’s life. Johnny in A New Dawn has lost his entire sense of self, his entire new and improved identity; one that learned from his mistakes and became a better person because of V. Johnny has The Tower tattooed on his arm, the card of (often painful) transformation and change. Yet this is what Johnny is most afraid of; not death, or even the not-so-bad sort-of hell that is Blackwall. He’s afraid of losing himself, and by losing V, he has lost a part of himself. The part of himself that was supposed to be a better person; who was supposed to save V’s life.

[rev-1832]

please for the love of all fuck explain mcyt to me

Omg I've been waiting for this

So mcyt means minecraft youtube, but usually also includes Twitch streamers. It's like a in general thing, and not pointing to anything specific

But since you sound so confused, I'm gonna explain to you the Dream SMP lore 'cause why not

TL;DR: Chaos and war, basically also like a hamilton, heathers, and les mis crossover (but i mean if you want to understand everything you should read.)

If theres spelling mistakes, sorry

Note: Everyone on the smp has three canon lives, and when you loose all three you're canonically dead (except philza minecraft. he has one canon life bc hes known as the hardcore guy bc he had a minecraft hardcore series for 6 years until he was killed by a spider while trying to fight a baby zombie lmaoooooo)

IMPORTANT: THIS IS ALL RP. IRL THEY’RE ALL FRIENDS. THERES A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE PLAYER AND THE CHARACTER. THE RELATIONSHIPS AREN’T ACTUALLY TOGETHER IRL. ITS ALL THEIR CHARACTERS THAT THEY MADE UP. (obviously the best friends stuff are irl)

In the beginning there were 8: The Dream Team (Dream, Georgenotfound [the guy in my pfp btw :)] , Sapnap), Badboyhalo, Awesamdude, Ponk, Callahan, and Alyssa. Around this time, nothing much happened since it was all brand new, uhh yeah (this was around may-july of this year)

Then around late july new members joined: Tommyinnit, Tubbo, Wilbur Soot, Eret, Skeppy, Fundy, Punz, Purpled, and Schlatt. This part is very important to the lore, because the lore kinda started off with the british (so tommy, tubbo, wilbur, eret) Schlatt was banned, cause Sapnap was the one who invited him and Dream didn't know who he was. He'll come up later.

So Wilbur and Tommy decided to create a new nation called "L'Manberg". Also around this time (i think) Nihachu and Jack Manifold joined. They also were part of L'Manberg. There was this huge revolution between Dream Smp and L'Manberg. Very historical period on this smp. In the end, (i think it was?) L'Manberg who won (if memory serves).

After that, L'Manberg had started growing bigger, with a lot more buildings added and stuff, notably Church Prime, which where they created a religion for Twitch Prime, which is how you can sub to your favorite twitch streamer for free if you link your amazon prime account. I'm pretty sure around this time, Quackity, Karl Jacobs (if you watch Mr. Beast; yes, that karl jacobs), HBomb, Technoblade, and Antfrost joined. And then the railway war started. It happened when Tommy accidentally ran over Dream with a Minecart and then took his stuff. This is how the disc war started (once again, if memory serves). The two discs Tommy owns are his prized possesions, and Dream took them. Also around this time the Pet War started, with Sapnap killing someones(i forgot oops) pet. And then more pet killing. Annnnd then even more.

Then there was the L'Manberg eletion. There was POG2020, who was Wilbur and Tommy, SWAG2020, Quackity and George, Coconut2020, Fundy and Nihachu, and Schlatt2020 which was Schlatt. Oh yeah and he got unbanned btw

SWAG2020 and Schlatt2020 decided to combine their votes, thus Shclatt became president and Quackity his vp. Oh and ever since the election Quackity has this grudge against George bc he slept through the election. Schlatt renamed L'Manberg to Manberg, and exiled Tommy and Wilbur from it.

Schlatt is a evil dictator who likes power. He and Quackity started fighting, and so Quackity became part of Tommy and Wilbur's side. Around this time was The Battle of the Lake and The Burning Eiffel Tower, both part of the pet war. (It seems like a innocent war but its actually brutal lmao) Also (irl) Mr. Beast had a $10,000 Taco Bell gift card hunt. Eret won. It was at the cords 6969,420, because haha funny number haha weed number. This has nothing to do with the lore but yeah. Eret also became King of the SMP 

Then there was the Manberg festival. It was to celebrate democracy, but Tubbo puts it as "i decorated my own execution" bc he helped decorate it, but he was murdered there. At the festival was the Manberg Massicare, where Technoblade was forced to shoot tubbo, but he released a firework rocket kiling Tubbo, Schlatt, Quackity, and a few others. Many people lost one of their canon lives. Wilbur went all J.D like and planted 11 stacks of TNT underneath Manberg, and wanted to blow it up.

Pogtopia was formed, which is a ravine which i think is underneath? manberg? Which included basically everybody who wasn't neutral or with schlatt. On November 16 was the Manberg VS Pogtopia war, but the Badlands were also there. The Badlands is a nation of four people: Bbh, Skeppy, Awesamdude, and Antfrost. They faught with the loosing side, so the chaos could continue. Eret disobeyed Dream and got stripped of his royalty, and gave it to George. Oh and during this time, George had no idea there was a war and was building a cottagecore mushroom house with callahan and was very confused with all the death messages in the chat. Schlatt died canonically of a heart attack or stroke (no one knows tbh). Tommy became president, passed it to wilbur bc he still has unfinished buissness with dream (the discs), and wilbur passed it to Tubbo, who made Tommy his vp. Technoblade then argued about how government is bad, and they're just repeating history. Philza Minecraft joined the server, but no one could find him, until Wilbur blew up L'Manberg (they rechanged the name also). Wilbur then made Philza kill him, so Wilbur also became canonically dead. Then Techno, still mad at L'Manberg and governments, summoned two withers and made it attack the others. The Geogre decided to check out what was happening and helped fight. After the chaos, Captain Puffy and ConnorEatsPants joined the smp. About one to two weeks later Vikkstar and LazarBeam joined, then about three months after that Ranboo joined.

They rebuilt L'Manberg on stilts, and there water where the explosion was, but now with coral and stuff to make it all pretty. Tommy and Ranboo decided to go steal from Georges mushroom house, but then also griefed it and burnt it, and Dream, being a George simp, built obsidian walls around L'Manberg. They took Tommy to court, and was put on probation. Then Tommy got exiled (again) but this time by his own best friend. This made Quackity vp and Fundy secutary of state. Dream also took Georges king thing and gave it back to Eret because Eret has a good relationship with everybody, whereas George being King just caused chaos cause hes close to Dream. Quackity and Karl made Mexican L'Manberg, and George and Sapnap joined in also. War against Dream SMP, it was a negotiation and it got renamed into El Rapids (reference to Chilling in Cedar Rapids, which Hilary Clinton once said, and Quackity referenced it, got it trending #1 one twitter (well i mean dsmp gets things trending like everyday but), and got DONALD TRUMP TO SUBTWEET HIM. (This happened irl)

In his exile, Ghostbur (wilbur as ghost) and Tommy made Logstedshire, and Dream was often there to watch him. Dream then blew it up, and now Tommy is living with Techno in his arctic place. Currently, Quackity made a thing called The Butcher Army, so they could execute Techno. Tubbo, Quackity, Fundy, and I also think Ranboo? are trying to get another festival, and yes its a secret execution plan, but for them to kill Dream, who they realized is who they need to kill first. The disc war is still not over. Tommy has one of his discs, but Skeppy is in possesion of the other one.

Unluckily for Tommy (reguarding the discs), something happened in the Badlands. Bbh was digging out his underground statue room (he plans to make a statue of everyone of the server) and found this crimson egg. He, Antfrost, and Captain Puffy kinda got possesed. Also since Skeppy didn't really hang out on the server at night, but bbh does (OF FUCK I FORGOT TO MENTION HE AND BBH ARE BEST FRIENDS) Captain Puffy created Discount Skeppy, which is her in a Skeppy skin. Skeppy found out, had a little conflict with her during her stream, but it was resolved, and at one point in the stream, he asked bbh to choose between him and the egg, and when bbh didn't answer, he went to the egg, put himself inside it, and logged off. Couple days later, bbh and puffy got him out, hes now possed by the crimson, called Technoblade his "best friend" infront of bbh, and is now living in a grass hut. Bad is convinced theres still some skeppt left, but yeah. Skeppy also wanted to burn the disc.

End of lore for now, bc its like if you miss ONE STREAM YOU MISS LIKE A REALLY IMPORTANT EVENT AND ITS STRESSFUL

Not much part of lore but Nihachu and Captain Puffy once went on a date. They’re both bi irl and Puffy was on Nihachu’s Love or Host (twitch dating show. its really entertaining) Captain Puffy was a contestant, and chose love. (LoH is also how Nihachu and Wilbur met.) 

Funfact: Theres 5 irl lgbtq+ ppl on the server (people who came out, anyways cause you never know, ya know?) Antfrost is gay, Eret, Nihachu, Captain Puffy are all bi, and Karl Jacobs is ace spec 

Family stuff: Philza Minecraft (he'll come up later) had two twins with a Samsung Smart Refrigerator in the 70's. The two twins being Wilbur and Technoblade (he'll come up later also) and also had another son, Tommy. They also adopted Tubbo, who they found in a box on the side of the road. When he grew up, Wilbur met Sally the Salmon, and they had a fox together (dont ask just go with it), which was Fundy. (The character) Fundy is trans, and yeah . Bbh is a dad to sapnap and yeah

Oh and a new member is coming on today on Quackity’s stream (twitch.tv/quackityhq at 5pm CST if you want to watch) 

I left out some parts, sorry, but theres always the wiki...

Wilbur Soot is also a musician! He wrote I’m In Love With an Egirl, The Internet Ruined Me, and Your New Boyfriend. (did you know the last one beat taylor swift for #1 trending on youtube? idk why but im really proud of him for that) They’re all catJam’s. Go listen!

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

bangs pots and pans together loudly FIC UPDATE COME GET YALL SOME JUICE

Apparently the vital, missing component to enjoying school was having a friend there. Go figure.

He and Kevin only have that first period class together, but they make the most of it, passing notes back and forth between the two of them, the teacher too tired that early in the morning to notice, or care. Lunch isn’t depressing anymore. They sit together under the shade tree, and Kevin does seem to also appreciate the view. “Can you even imagine working up a sweat, on purpose?” Betelgeuse pats his gut. “You know I can’t.”

“I can’t believe how little the track shorts are. That’s obscene. You think I’d look good in them?” “You join track and I’ll come to every meet, an’ it won’t be for th’ love of th’ sport.” He doesn’t think normal friends talk to each other like this, but he doesn’t actually know. Does everyone flirt with their friends? Are friends just cool people you wanna fuck but haven’t yet? Is it demon hormone bullshit, making him read into everything? Unclear.

It’s all going so good, until it isn’t, suddenly.

One lunch, two months into being there, Kevin pulls a huge and impressive old book from his backpack. “Look what I goooot,” he sing songs, waving it in Betelgeuse’s face, and he sneezes in response. “Smells old.” Emily and Lydia would love it. “It is. It’s very old,” Kevin confirms, and he moves so he’s sitting next to Betelgeuse, shoulder to shoulder, both their backs to the shade tree. “It’s about demons.”

Betelgeuse loses interest immediately, and focuses on not going pink at their shoulders touching, instead. “Z’at so?” he grunts. Kevin doesn’t seem to pick up on his moodiness, though. “It talks about all these ancient beings,” he explains, flipping pages. “Their summoning circles, their aspects,” he gives Betelgeuse a nudge at that, “all the things they can do for you, and the boons they grant.” He feels uncomfortable. “What’s with this? You obsessed with me, or somethin’?” He tries to play it as a joke, but that glint in Kevin’s eyes is back, and he doesn’t like it. “Of course, who wouldn’t be obsessed if they learned all this shit is actually true? It’s like there’s a whole secret world behind a locked door, and I’ve got the key.” Kevin looks back up at him.

He gets the feeling he’s the key. It’s not a good feeling.

“Where’d you even get this fuckin’ thing?” he lifts a finger, and the book slams closed in Kevin’s lap. His friend huffs. “Internet, of course.” “No, I mean… why were you lookin’ for somethin’ like this?” “I want to learn more. Don’t you?” Kev presses, and reopens the book. “I mean, what if there’s something amazing you can do, and you just don’t know, cause you’re not bothering to try?”

“So I’ll never know, so what?” Betelgeuse feels like this is a losing argument, but he tries anyways. “What’s so great about bein’ weird? You’re lucky you’re human.” “Dude, don’t even start with that. You can fly.” “So can humans,” he points out. “Wh- A plane and fucking levitating for fun are not the same, and you know it, BeetleJerk.” Kevin honestly can’t understand why he’s not excited over this. “I just mean… I’d rather be human, than this.” He blinks at his own words, because he’s never expressed that out loud before, ever. But it doesn’t feel untrue. “You’re out of your mind, more so than usual. Every human alive wants to feel special, and do the stuff you can do. Why are you acting like it’s so miserable all of a sudden? You use your powers all the time, I’ve seen you literally teleport five feet because you’re too lazy to walk.”

“You don’t get it.” He’s feeling sullen now, and he wiggles a little away from Kevin, and crosses his arms. “BJ, come on-” Betelgeuse teleports away to under the bleachers, and he eats his lunch there, until the bell rings.

He’s waiting for Emily after school, not feeling particularly friendly, when Kevin approaches. They stand there awkwardly. It feels tense, and weird, and he waits to see what the breather does. “Don’t be mad,” Kevin says, finally. “M’not mad.” “You sound mad.” “You know what mad on me looks like,” he finally turns to look at his friend, amber eyes burning with irritation. “First hand.”

Kevin looks down, and kicks at a rock that might not actually be there. “I thought you’d be excited. BJ, come on, I don’t wanna.. Not be friends over this.”

Betelgeuse signs, and scratches at the scruff on his chin. “It’s not like that,” he relents after a moment. “I just, I don’t care about that stuff. An’ I don’t wanna sit around, focusin’ on it. I don’t exactly like feelin’ different. Yeah, I do tricks an’ use my magic an’ stuff, but it’s hard to control. I lose my temper once an’ I could seriously destroy somethin’, or hurt my family. It doesn’t exactly feel good, knowin’ that. No one else my age can stand me, cause they can tell I’m weird. Before you, it was fuckin’ lonely, Kev.”

He feels a familiar pressure, because Kevin has taken his hand, and the human gives it a squeeze. He accepts it, melting a little against the other boy. “Still friends?” Kevin asks, and Betelgeuse purrs in response, resting his head on Kevin’s shoulder.

It’s not till later, at home, that he realizes Kevin never actually apologized.

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````

It’s like that, for a while. He knows Kevin still has the book. He knows he’s reading it, and sometimes Kevin will bring up demon stuff, but Betelgeuse has almost exactly a minute and a half of patience for answering questions or hearing about it. Still, Kev doesn’t stop. He might feel angrier if the breather wasn’t so god damn cute.

The air is starting to go cold, and leaves are beginning to fall. October is settling in, getting comfortable, and mom’s starting to break out the Halloween décor. It’s the middle of a kind of gloomy, Autumn day, when things get weird.

Kevin has the book open, much to Betelgeuse’s annoyance, and he’s blabbing away about a demon that supposedly grants wealth- “Do you think you could do that?” -when Betelgeuse looks down at the book, and sees Juno looking back at him. It’s not really her, it’s an illustration, but he’d recognize the bitch anywhere. She’s ink, glaring up from the page, those same age lines etched into her face, confirming his private theory that she’d been an old hag even when she was young. The slit neck is prominent, and as he stares, he sees smoke billow out of it. Oh, fuck no.

He grabs the book and slams it shut, startling Kevin, and then he teleports it directly under them, a mile down in the rock of the earth. Kev blinks for a moment, confused, before looking at his friend. “Wh.. Dude, WHAT?”

“Possessed book,” he croaks out, feeling tense, because he can smell cigarette smoke. “And you’re afraid of it? Why? You are also a literal fucking demon!” “That’s why I’m not messin’ with it!” Betelgeuse stands up, uneasy. The ground around the tree feels weird, now. He doesn’t like it here anymore. “Cause I actually understand why it’s a bad fuckin’ idea! God, you should have instincts that tell you not to mess with this stuff! You’re deficient, Kev, seriously.”

“Me deficient? Seriously?” Kev snaps, which hurts in a new, unexpected way. “Whatever, asshole. Give me my book back.” Kevin stands up, too, but he’s not uneasy, he’s angry.

“It’s better off where it is.”

“Which is where?”

Betelgeuse glances down. The grass around the tree is starting to wither. Kevin follows his gaze, but doesn’t seem to notice the dying vegetation. “You buried it? Come on!”

“Leave it, Kev.”

“This isn’t just your cool secret, anymore, it’s mine too!” Kevin glares at him. “You can’t keep me out of it, BJ. That’s not fair. God, at this point, I know more than you! You should be listening to me!”

He feels his volatile temper flare.

“Ex-fuckin’-scuze me?”

He waits for Kevin to take it back. Instead, his friend doubles down. “Demons have to listen to humans,” Kevin crosses his arms. “If they’re summoned. It’s in the book.” “Nobody summoned me,” Betelgeuse snarls, letting his real snake eyes show, an intimidation tactic that works for about half a second. Kevin’s too used to him, at this point. “I’m up here on a deal.” “Bet I could do it. I bet I could summon you. Then you’d have to listen to me.” “Yeah? Well, good luck without your stupid book!” He storms off, leaving Kevin standing there.

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The rest of the day sucks. He’s moody all day, annoyed in the car, grumpy in his room. He cranks metal and wishes he’d learned to play a guitar instead of his rinky, happy sounding ukulele. The instrument isn’t going to produce the noise he wants to express himself, right now. He throws it across the room, into a wall, where it smashes, and reforms a minute later, because… it’s still his favorite, after all. Even if it’s no good for expressing his teenage angst.

He can hear shuffling, and talking, outside his room, though he can’t make out what’s being said over the music. After a moment, though, there’s a knock at his door. “Hey, Bug?” Emily calls. “Can you come give me a hand with something?” He wants to tell her to piss off, go away, to leave him the hell alone, but.. It’s Emily. The CD player lets out a strangled choke and suddenly stops, and the door swings open, all without him moving from his flopped position on the bed. “Sup, ma?” he grunts. Emily peaks her head into the room, and smiles when she sees him, the expression radiating warmth and adoration and.. Oh, God/Satan, bless his sunbeam of a mother. “Just wondering if you’re free to do a little decorating?” She reaches behind her and grabs a fake severed bloody limb from the box he assumes she’s dragged into the hallway from the attic. “Don’t you worry it takes away from the “wow factor” to do Halloween twice a year?” He asks, standing and stretching, before apparating in the hallway behind her, and giving the decor box a nudge with his boot. “What? No way, there’s never enough Halloween!” Emily grins. “Get that, please.” The box floats along behind him as they head downstairs. They pause in the entryway, as Emily thinks out loud. “So, maybe the kitchen should be-” “Functional as a kitchen, please,” Charles calls from the living room. Emily rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine! Spoilsport! We’ll focus on the entryway for now,” she decides. “You wanna put up cobwebs in the rafters?” She gets on tiptoes to reach into the floating box, and he lowers it a bit for her, as she grabs the fake webbing. “I could just instantly decorate the whole room,” He takes to floating next to the box. “Could make sure it’s all normal human stuff, too,” He adds, before she can respond. “I know you can… But I like decorating,” Emily says brightly. “It’s not about getting it done quickly. It’s about, you know, doing it together.” “So why are dad and Lydia slacking?” Her smile doesn’t falter, but becomes softer. “It kinda felt like you needed some mom time, today,” She says simply. God, she can read him easier than Kev can read his stupid book. “We got in a fight,” he admits. She hums at that, because he only has one friend. It’s not hard to guess who he could possibly mean. “I’m sorry, Bug. What over?” He hesitates. So far he’s not let any of his family in on this book business. He’s been sort of hoping it could just go away on it’s own, and not be a thing. Kevin’s made it into a thing, though, and not telling even his mom feels… bad.

“He’s really into demons. Like, really, really into em,” He rasps, floating up and beginning to put up the spiderwebs, as his mother takes down the usual, sort of spooky wall hangings and trades them for her very intentionally spooky Halloween ones. “He’s got this book, an’ it’s all about demons an’ like, how to summon them, an’ their powers, an’ stuff… Sometimes th’ way he talks, it’s like.. Are we friends cause we’re friends, or friends cause you think I’m gonna be... useful?”

Maybe that doesn't make any sense, but that’s how it’s been feeling, like there’s an invisible shoe hanging midair, and it’s about to drop. His mother waits until he’s finished before looking up at him. “And you fought over that?” She prods. “Not exactly.” How the fuck can she even tell that, though? Damn her mom powers. He really, really didn’t want to talk about this, not to her, but… “I saw Juno. In th’ book,'' He lowers back down to the floor, and digs through the box, pulling out fake body parts. Back up he goes, to stick these in the fake webbing. “It was just a drawing of her, but it started like.. Billowing smoke-”

“From the neck,” His mother remembers, suppressing a shudder.

“Yeah. I could smell the smoke. So I got rid of the book, buried it in th’ school yard, but Kev got all pissy about it. He thinks he’s an expert on this shit, an’ he’s gonna mess with somethin’ big if he keeps this up.” “I’m sure you’ve told him that.” “He doesn’t listen. He gets this look in his eye, like it’s a game, or like… I dunno. Feels sometimes like he thinks he’s…” He searches for the words. “Like he thinks he oughta be the boss a’me, or somethin’.”

He rubs absentmindedly at the moss on his nose. It clings, stubborn as ever, same with the patches by his hairline, and he’s found it’s easier to just add another little layer to his glamour than try to do anything about it.

Maybe that’s indicative of a bigger problem. It’s easier to do a bit of magic and make everything look better than to actually fix the underlying problem. Ugh, introspection, how absolutely miserable. He wants to keep thoughts like that locked away tight, but they have a habit of slipping past his mental defenses and making him feel worse. Absolutely no one can make him feel shittier than he himself can. He sinks to the ground, going purple, and he’s instantly wrapped in his mother’s arms. “It’s okay, Beetlejuice,” Emily has both her hands on the back of his head, and he pushes his face into the crook of her neck. “I just.. I’ve only got the one friend,” he groans. “I don’t wanna stop bein’ his friend, but.. Fuck, ma.”

“I know.” Her voice is a soothing balm. She works her hands through the mess of purple hair at the back of his head. “I know, sweetheart. I know it’s lonely at school, but school isn’t forever,” she tries to assure him. “If your friend is treating you this way, well.. He’s not a very good friend. Do you want to be around someone who makes you feel this bad? Does it feel worth it, to you?”

He knows the correct answer is, “No,” but he’s not sure if his self esteem is high enough for that.

“I like him a lot,” He grumbles, and she hums again. “He’s handsome,” She says, and then pulls back far enough to pinch his nose. “But not as handsome as my son, of course,” and it’s silly enough to help knock away his mood, so that’s something, at least. “What should I do?” He doesn’t pull away from her, just soaks up the mom energy for as long as he can. “I think you need to have a talk,” Emily tells him. “Lay out how you’re feeling. Try to get his side of things, and make sure he hears your side, too. Then, at least you both tried, you know?”

It’s such a mom type answer. He groans again.

“I was worried you’d say some shit like that.” She fuzzes his hair, and he feels the tingle in his scalp that means it’s changed colors. Back to green, he assumes. “You know your moss changes color along with your hair? And your creepo-stache?” “Leave the stache alone, it’s tryin’ it’s best,” He pretends to be defensive.

“It makes you look like the founder of a forum for people who marry their cars,” Lydia offers, from the bottom step of the staircase, where she has apparently been just chilling and listening.

“Wh-! Mom, it’s not that bad, right?” Emily tilts her head to the side and gives what can only be described as a condescending smile. “Oh, you’re both in for it now.” He brings the various decor items to life to terrorize them, and then Charles joins his side, sympathizing with his son vis-à-vis bad teenage facial hair, and by the time the whole squabble is over, hardly any decorating has gotten done… But he does feel better. His family’s good like that.

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Monday rolls around, same as it always does, but there’s a weird feeling in the air. Halloween is a week away, barely missing getting a weekend date, but there’s some big Halloween bash the school is apparently throwing. There’s fliers for it everywhere, plastered all over lockers and bulletin boards. He’s not much of a participator, though, and his reaction to his locker being plastered over with invites to a party he doesn't care about is to snap his fingers. All the fliers on all the lockers up and down the hall, all instantly fall loose at once, littering the floor. A few students jump back, but no one looks his way, because why would they?

He’s grabbing his history textbook when he feels a tap on the shoulder, and when he turns, it’s a girl he recognizes, but her name is absolutely lost on him.

“You’re BJ, right?” Miffy askes, and he nods. “Yeah, s’right,” and Margo seems to wince at how gruff his voice is, before continuing. “Um, you and that guy Kevin, you’re like…” Milicent trails off, waiting for him to finish her thought, but sorry, baby, he can barely finish his own. “Like…?” He says, with his gravel voice copying her tone and inflection, and she huffs. “Together?” Marge asks, “Like, all of the time?”

He cocks his head, and squints at her, hands t-rexing at his sides, as Lydia likes to say.\

“Usually,” He concedes, and he gets the feeling he’s dragging this out much, much more than Mango clearly wants, because he spies a group of girls a little ways off, waiting for her. One of them is staring intently, more focused on him, but he pushes that thought aside.

“Look, okay, he’s gonna be out for a few days, and I’m just trying to see if you can take him his homework,” McGrubber has grown tired of having to stand here, talking to the chubby goth loser, apparently. “I’m a student aid in the office and they’re trying to make me do it, but I have track practice!” Thaaaat’s where he knows her from. She looks different, not bouncing and sweating and also not half a football field away. “Sure, fine, I’ll make sure Kev gets his work. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on running in a fuckin’ circle, Maria.” Her face sours. “It’s Blair.” So close. “Who fuckin’ cares,” He replies, and turns back to his locker. He can hear her rejoin her friend group, all of them fawning over her harrowing experience of having to speak to him in public. The last thing he hears from Blair is, “He’s just so goddamn weird,” and then the group rounds the corner.

He closes his locker harder than he maybe needs to.

Kevin isn’t in class that day, or the next, or even the one after. The shade tree has withered and died completely, it’s color sapped and gone, and even walking near it makes him feel uneasy. His new lonely lunch spot is under the bleachers, which feels even more voyeuristic of a spot to watch the track team, but even that activity feels tainted, somehow. He’s back to being lonely.

He can’t stand being lonely.

It gets so bad he contemplates sitting, wait for it, on the bleachers, and maybe even trying to strike up a conversation, but he’s too chicken shit. He’s been going to school with these kids for the past three years, and no one’s wanted to talk to him or chat with him in all that time. He can’t imagine that’s about to change.

Still, on Thursday, miserable and lonely, he gives it a try.

Sitting up here sucks. It’s just a hard metal seat on a gloomy day, and when he’d ventured up and sat down, other people had slowly moved away from him, until he was sitting by himself, all the breathers huddled in a different area, away from him. He'd tried talking, but hardly had a "Hey, how ya doin'?" grated out before the migration began.

Figures.

He finishes eating and lies on his back, resting his hands on his chest, eyes closed, and after a while he feels someone standing over him, and something laid over his hands. He opens his eyes. There’s the most beautiful girl staring down at him. She’s got long, bleach blonde hair, darker at the roots, which is hanging down in a halo around her face, and the biggest, clearest blue eyes he’s ever seen. He glances down, to see she’s placed a daisy over his hand. He looks back up at her, amber eyes questioning.

“You looked so still,” She smiles. Her voice is like music. He thinks he can hear harps. “With your hands folded like that. Kind of like an open casket.” He’d been forgetting to breathe, apparently, which happens sometimes. She thought he looked like a corpse, and she placed a flower over him.

“Sorry, if that’s weird. You’re.. BJ?” She asks, and he picks up the daisy, sits up, and nods. “Yeah, you’re…” “Barbara,” she fills him in. “You’re not so good with names.” “Mmm. Buffy tell you that?” He recognizes her now, from that group of girls. Barbara sits next to him, which makes zero sense. “It’s Blair,” she corrects him gently, but not without a giggle in her voice. “Oh, right.” Her name could be fuckin’ Moonpie and it’d make the same amount of difference to him, but he’d agree with anything Barbara said, if it meant she kept sitting there, talking to him. “Are you going to the Halloween party?” She asks. “Supposed to be pretty killer. It kind of seems like your scene.” “I’m not exactly a social butterfly,” which is the understatement of the god damn century, honestly, but she laughs and nudges her shoulder with his. “Well, I think you should come. I bet you’d have the coolest costume. Maybe think about it?”

“I guess, maybe..” He says lamely, because his brain is short circuiting from that small touch.

“Barb, come on!” someone calls to her from a ways away, on the track. Lunch is nearly over. She stands, and smooths down the long skirt she’s wearing, which is modest but flattering. “Later, BJ,” she smiles, and just like that, she’s gone, like an angel going back up to heaven in a beam of light, off to rejoin her friends. He can hear what she says to them, though. “You guys are mean, he’s not so bad. Just shy.”

He keeps the daisy in a little glass of water on his dresser, and strums love songs on his ukulele.

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Thinking about Barbara and her smile and the way she nudged him is a fun distraction, at least for a little while, but when it’s Saturday, and he still hasn’t heard from Kevin, he decides it’s time to demon up and see what the fuck is happening with him. He’s been just teleporting Kev’s homework inside his room, and he’s sure it’s falling into a pile on the floor each time and startling him, but no one ever said how he had to deliver it. Today though, emboldened by the pretty girl on the bleachers, he appears at Kevin’s front door instead, holding Friday’s work, and he knocks. It takes a moment, but Mr. Loh answers.

Betelgeuse hasn’t had much chance to interact with Kev’s dad. He looks like a normal, tired dad, wholly unimpressive, and kinda short. Chuck could wrestle this guy to the mat, no problem.

“Oh, BJ,” Mr. Loh says, and then glances at what’s in his hands. “Kevin’s homework? Thank you. He’s holed up in his room… won’t come out.. Maybe,” and he suddenly looks hopeful. “You two are friends. Maybe you can try talking to him?”

Well, that’s what he was there to do anyways, so sure. “I gotcha, Mr. L,” he nods, stepping inside, and heading up the stairs and down the hall to Kevin’s room. The closer he gets to the door, though, the weirder he feels. Something stinks, figuratively and literally. It smells like… It smells like the waiting room. It’s that same, veil is thin type air that he can smell on Halloween night, but how the fuck is he smelling it here? He bangs on Kevin’s door. “Hey, Kev, it’s the B-Man,” he calls, trying to keep his tone playful, but he feels like he’s doing a poor job. What the hell is going on? “Come on, man, open up!” He tries again, when he receives no response. He thinks he can hear a shuffle behind the door. “Dude, I will bust this fuckin’ door down,” He growls, all the play gone from his tone. “You know I will. Better yet-”

He appears inside the bedroom, just in time for Kevin to slam shut the closet door. Kevin turns to look at him, back pressed to the wood. There’s a beat, both teens staring at each other, wide eyed, Betelgeuse in that weird way he does, and Kevin looking frazzled. “What,” the demon grates out, “the fuck, are you getting up to in here? It smells like the netherworld, Kev.” Unfortunately, that makes Kevin’s face light up. “It does? Oh my god, that’s perfect! It must be starting to work!” He crosses the bedroom, going to his desk, where an old book is sitting open. It’s not the same one he took from his friend, it can’t be, that book is still a mile down in presumably solid rock. “Another musty ass tome, great,” he growls, but Kevin ignores him, flipping through the book.

He hates feeling ignored.

A black and white striped arm sprouts from Kevin’s desk, and slams the book shut, which makes the breather turn and glare at him. “Get out of my room, BJ,” is all Kevin says, and Betelgeuse ignores that, instead crossing the floor to get a look at that book. “Where th’ hell do you keep finding these fuckin’ things?”

“This one I bought from a one armed man living out of a 1973 Oldsmobile Delta 88 Royale,” Kevin recites. Betelgeuse squints at him, top teeth over bottom lip. “You’re too gay to know what that means,” he says, plainly, and Kevin shrugs. “He wouldn’t stop talking about his stupid car. I now know more about that antique than I know about geography.” It feels fun, for a second, like this drama isn’t happening, and they’re just having a conversation. It doesn’t last, though. He can’t let Kev off the hook.

“So you bought a second cursed book, this time from some amputee homeless guy, and you’re just, doing the rituals inside of it? And this seems like a super good idea to you?”

“I’m practicing,” Kevin replies.

“So what’s in the closet, Kevin?”

“Get out of my room, Betelgeuse.”

The way Kevin says his name is weird. It doesn’t feel like how it normally feels when a breather says the full thing. He shakes it off, and gives his friend a defiant look, before waving a hand and throwing open the closet door. There’s a cleared spot, in the middle of the closet floor, and a fucking summoning circle in what smells like, “Pig’s blood? Couldn’t get human?” He turns to look at Kevin, who is glaring at him intently. He matches the look.

“Betelgeuse Shoggoth, get out of my room.”

That gets his attention. It feels like an invisible hand is pushing him, and he stumbles back out of the room, confused. “W-what?” Kevin is just standing there, staring at him, and Betelgeuse stares back, eyes wild. “You motherfucker,” he hisses, eyes in snake slits, teeth sharp, claws extended. “You wanna do that “real name” bullshit with me? That the choice you’re makin’ here, Kev?”

Kevin doesn’t even look phased. “I’m working on gaining a bit more control, but looks like that works, for now.”

“You’re cracked!” Betelgeuse growls, absolutely furious. “You’re really tryin’ to summon me? Are you out of your head!?”

“You’re wasting your powers,” Kevin storms forward. “You’re a supernatural being, and you go to school and play your stupid ukulele, and don’t even try to do anything bigger. You could be stepping on everyone under you,” his former friend is going red in the face. “You could be leading, you could be ruling, but you just jerk off in your room and play pretend at being human. But someone might as well profit, here. Why not me?”

“I thought.. I thought we were friends,” is all the demon can say, lamely, and Kevin’s smile is the meanest thing he’s ever seen on a breather. “Once you’re fully listening to me, we can be friends again. Betelgeuse Shoggoth, get out of my house.”

He feels that same invisible pull, and he thinks maybe if he was stronger he could resist it, but a demon’s true name is like a lead on a dog, meant to control them, and unfortunately, Kevin has a tight hand on his leash. He makes it to the front door, and stumbles out, covering his face until he can calm himself enough to reapply his glamour.

Shit, he thinks, straightening up, and staring up at Kevin’s bedroom window. He is so fucked. ``````````````````````````````````````````````` Posted this chapter and another over at Ao3. You can read it right here

[depressedhatakekakashi]

How About, No!

Au: Collage Professors Au

Words: 2101

Pairings: Yamato/Umino Iruka, Hatake Kakashi/Maito Gai (Mentioned)

Summary: Doing paperwork has never been Kakashi's favourite part of the job. Doing Tsunade-sama's paperwork is somehow even worse, but apparently that's not bad enough. Kakashi's best friend has to go and make his life more ridiculous over a stupid crush.

For: @cryptic-summons @pinkcatharsis (i don't know you might enjoy XD)

At the beginning of every semester, Tsunade-sama would ask Kakashi to help her sort out all of the paperwork. Make sure that everyone was sorted into the correct classrooms, that all of the information was up to date, and that there wasn’t a repeat of the ‘2018 fiasco’ that no one was ever allowed to bring up in front of her again.

It wasn’t his favourite part of the job, but it was a good excuse to get away from his usual workload for a little while so he never said no.

Not that he thought he could say no. The one time he had tried to deny one of her requests, he had gotten a call from his father five minutes later talking about being nice to his friend and not making her life harder because he didn’t want to have to hear about it the next time they got together for drinks.

“You’re losing focus,” a file came down on top of his head, forcing him to look over at Shizune where she was now standing in front of him with a playful smile. “If you keep stalling we’re going to be here all night.”

Not a chance. He had dinner plans with Gai and he was not missing them for this.

“There’s only one more classroom to go through anyways,” opening the file he needed on the computer, he stared at the classroom details. “Teacher, Umino Iruka. See, this one will be easy.”

Iruka’s classes were always full because people loved hearing him talk, which would usually cause him more of a headache sifting through everyone’s files to make sure they actually signed up for the class and weren’t just placed in there by a wonky system. It wasn’t a headache because Iruka liked to look through his class layout before Tsunade-sama started the mad dash to organize everything before the new semester started, so he always had a file ready full of all of the student’s class requests.

It saved Kakashi from having to look through each of their files to make sure that they were in the correct class, and there was always a note if there was someone in it who shouldn’t be.

“Where is-” The file in question appeared in front of his face suddenly, a smile on Shizune’s face when he looked up at her.

“You’re not the only one with plans tonight, Kakashi,” the playful wink she gave him told him Rin was going to be wearing a smile all day tomorrow. Probably the type he wouldn’t want to ask about, just to save his sanity. “There is one sticky note on the inside, but I haven’t read it yet.”

It was probably just a request to remove a student. Likely because they hadn’t actually requested to be in the class, but also possibly because Iruka didn’t want to deal with them again. There had been a few repeat students that had proven to be little more than a nuisance to the poor man, and while Kakashi did gain a certain amount of enjoyment from seeing Iruka tearing his hair out of his skull because of shitty students, he could also understand why he would finally put his foot down and stop letting them in his class.

Flipping the file open, Kakashi directed his attention to the sticky note first. Rechecking everything that Iruka had already done would be easy. The most difficult (but still rather easy) part would be finding whoever it was that needed removing and going through the process of having them taken off of the class list.

What he found was not something he had been expecting at all.

Professors don’t usually take classes themselves? A mistake perhaps?

Professor? Now that had to be a mistake. Maybe the systems were acting up and just throwing anyone into classes now. Who knows, maybe Shizune had been forced to remove him from one of her classes, or Tenzo’s.

Who knows what those computers were getting up to. They were so old that Kakashi was certain they were functioning on nothing but cobwebs and spite. This semester the spite was getting the upper hand and making their lives a little more interesting.

“Should be simple enough,’ scanning his eyes over to the list of students, he searched for a familiar name. “Though I wonder why the system would-” As soon as he found the name he was looking for, he dropped the file.

“Is everything alright?” Shizune asked with a concerned tone in her voice.

“It’s fine,” pushing his chair back, he snapped the file shut and stood up. This was something that needed a bit more of a hands-on approach to rectify. “I’ll be back in ten, twenty tops, and I’ll pick up coffee on the way back.”

She was less likely to be upset with him for disappearing in the middle of their work if he returned with a treat, and he knew the perfect person to pay for that treat.

After all, it was his fault that Kakashi was leaving his work behind. He could make it up to him by paying for Coffee.

Finding Tenzo had been easy. As always he was tucked away in the university garden, which everyone considered his office because of how much time he spent there, tending to some of the flowers.

Today he was hovering over the tulips. Flowers that none other than Iruka had suggested were added, admitting that they were his favourite flower when Tsunade-sama asked him why he wanted them in the garden so badly.

Tenzo had wasted no time in finding the perfect spot to plant a variety of tulips. He had even chosen all sorts of different colours, determined to grow as many of them as he could just for Iruka.

The fact that there were still people in the university who had no idea about Tenzo’s crush on Iruka was astonishing to Kakashi. There was no way he could be more obvious about his feelings towards the modern history professor.

Well, there was one way but he had gotten upset with Kakashi over the cute sign he had tried taping to his back one day that read ‘I’m in love with Umino Iruka’. Kakashi still wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like he had made it into the university before Shizune pointed out the sign’s existence.

It wasn’t even half as embarrassing as Kakashi had intended it to be.

“So,” resting an arm on Tenzo’s shoulder, he smiled when his friend glared at him. Already prepared for whatever Kakashi was about to throw his way. “Daydreaming about Iruka? I hope you’re doing this during your break. You know how important it is not to get distracted when you’re watering the plants.”

“Very funny,” shrugging Kakashi’s arm off of his shoulder, Tenzo turned his attention back to the Tulips. “Unlike you, flowers are rather resilient. If I don’t water them right away they’ll survive. If Gai doesn’t hug you as soon as he sees you, you’ll wither away.”

Unnecessarily true.

“Meh, at least I can own the fact that I need hugs from my boyfriend,” placing his hands behind his back, he peered at Tenzo with his good eye. “Meanwhile you’re just pretending that you don’t have the biggest, most obvious crush on Iruka ever. You were so desperate to get close to him without admitting you like him, that you signed up for one of his classes. Didn’t you?”

Tenzo’s shoulders stiffened. Caught in the act, he turned to face Kakashi.

“How did you know?”

“I help out with the paperwork every semester. Did you forget that, Tenzo?” The look of dread on his friend’s face told him that he had, indeed, forgotten. “I wouldn’t worry too much. Iruka seems to think it was a mistake that your name was placed on his classroom list. I don’t think the man has any clue what you were trying to do.”

Which, in his personal opinion, just confirmed how oblivious Iruka was.

“I do have one question though,” dropping his arms to his side, he took a step forward and reached out to touch the one purple tulip that was blooming. “Out of all of the things you could have done to try and spend some time with Iruka, you decided to enroll in his course. Why?”

His question was met with silence. Not the kind that told him Tenzo was desperately thinking of an appropriate answer. No, this was the kind of silence he was met with whenever Tenzo was too embarrassed to give him an answer.

When he knew that providing Kakashi with the answer would lead to his best friend giving him an even harder time than he already was, which left only one clear reason for why he had done it.

“You could just, oh I don’t know, ask him out,” Gripping the tulips stem, he plucked it out of the ground and stood up straight. The annoyed look he received from Tenzo was no doubt in response to both his words and the fact that he had just plucked a tulip of all flowers. “What could you possibly hope to gain from taking his class, that you couldn’t from just asking him out?”

“I was hoping that it would...you know, maybe let me spend some time around him,” Turning his head, Kakashi levelled Tenzo with an unimpressed look. “I know it’s stupid. Trust me, I’ve been scolding myself for it for days. I just-I needed something. Some way to get in close to him and actually start a conversation.”

It took a moment for Tenzo’s words to fully sink in, but once they had Kakashi straightened himself up and carefully placed the Tulip he had plucked behind his ear. Keeping it out of harm’s way as he removed the file from under his arm and used it to smack Tenzo upside the head.

“Ow!” Tenzo’s arms shot up to protect his head. “Senpai, what the hell!?”

Taking the file across Tenzo’s head once again, he watched as his friend tried to back away from him. “Professors cannot date students you absolute-” cutting himself off, he smacked Tenzo once more before watching him stumble back into the tulips. “Of all the stupid ways to try and get close to Iruka, you chose the one illegal way? Are you trying to get him fired!?”

“No, that’s not…” Glancing down at the tulips that he had crushed under his feet, he sighed. “I wasn’t trying to. I just…”

The look of defeat on Tenzo’s face is all too familiar. Kakashi could remember a time when he had felt the same way about Gai. Never knowing how to approach him, let alone how to ask him out.

It wasn’t Tenzo’s fault that the heart was a stupid organ that didn’t have any meaningful connections to the brain. The thing acted without concern for the results of its actions.

It just meant he was going to have to take matters into his own hands.

“I’ll take you off of the classroom list,” he informed Tenzo, holding up a finger to silence his friend when he opened his mouth to protest. “And you’ll be ready one Wednesday evening for a double date. Gai and I will be there to make sure that you don’t do anything else colossally stupid.”

“Wednesday?” Tenzo’s eyes widened. “You’re not going to”

“Well, clearly you can’t be trusted to take care of asking him out yourself,” honestly, he’d probably leave the actual asking to Gai. He was always good at convincing people to hang out, and he might even be able to make Tenzo look good while offering Iruka a date with him. Something Kakashi didn’t trust himself to do at the moment, given what a dumb move Tenzo had just pulled. “Wednesday night. If you’re late I’ll be forced to send Gai in to retrieve you.”

For a second it looked like Tenzo was about to argue some more. Perhaps protest against Kakashi’s idea, or try to point out that he could take care of his own love life. Instead, he simply shut his mouth and nodded his head.

“Yes, Senpai,” he responded in a defeated tone. “Just...try not to be too embarrassing.”

Here he was trying to help his best friend out with his love life without possibly costing Iruka his job, and the bastard dared to call him embarrassing? That was the final straw.

He was bringing videos from Tenzo’s twenty-fifth birthday party. Iruka could decide for himself if he wanted to date Konoha’s worst karaoke singer or not.

[cinaja]

Before the Wall part 49

Masterlist

A/N: This took forever to write again, but I just had such a hard time with some of the scenes. I hope it all turned out okay.

Tw: Mentions of torture in the scene 6 and mutiliation in the scene 7 (towards the end). Also, scene 1 is Amarantha's pov, so it's a bit messed up as usual.

----

Amarantha ordered her soldiers to have their captured enemies screaming day and night, but even the screams now ringing out over her camp day and night fail to ease her fury. Not even imagining that it is Jurian screaming helps anymore, because she knows it is not and she knows that chances of her capturing him soon are low.

She lost her most valuable hostage, her direct path towards revenge. Like some new recruit with only a handful of battles under her belt, she let herself be outsmarted by Sinna of Erithia. Fell for a stupid diversion set with some idiot commander from Prythian as bait and didn’t notice the true plan until it was already too late.

On another day, she might have admired the ruthlessness of Sinna sacrificing hundreds of her own allies to save her new Princess. On another day, she might have been excited, might have started looking for an opportunity to pit herself against the Seraphim general, see which of them is truly better. But today, she is far too angry to be thrilled at the possible challenge.

It doesn’t matter how much she has the soldiers who served as a diversion tortured. Doesn’t matter that she ordered them all killed slowly and had ash bolts spiked through the commander’s wings. All that matters is that she still hasn’t gotten her hands on Jurian.

The very thought has anger flaring through her. Restlessly, Amarantha paces through her camp, looking for something to take her mind off the man who murdered her sister. Her soldiers, sensing her anger, shrink away from under har gaze.

A day spent on the march didn’t serve to improve her mood. But losing Miryam forced her to abandon her position at the Heseia Fort. Now that she doesn’t have a hostage, Jurian would never be stupid enough to attack her at such a secure position. So she had to give up some advantages, make Jurian think he has a chance to push him into attacking. And once he does, she will crush him.

Only she still needs a plan for that. She doesn’t doubt her army’s ability to take on that ragtag group of humans Jurian leads and win, but she can’t take any chances. Not when Jurian has proven more than once that he is clever, and surprisingly resilient for a human. If Amarantha wants to be entirely sure that she will defeat him, she will need some tricks up her sleeve.

“You,” she snaps at the nearest soldier, impatiently waving him over. “I’ll be gone for the next hour. Tell Lexo he’ll head the camp in my absence.”

Without waiting for a reply, she winnows away. She lands in the courtyard outside of the royal palace in Hybern. Distantly, the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs is audible, a seagull screams above.

Without pausing to look around, Amarantha stalks off towards the palace. People move aside to make space for her as she walks past. The slaves especially tremble and shrink away from her, knowing fully well that it is best not to cross Amarantha when she is this angry. On another day, Amarantha might have stopped to have her fun with one or two of them, but today, her goal is a different one.

The guards standing in front of the throne room step forward as she approaches, as if to intercept her. Amarantha doesn’t stop and at the last moment, they seem to think the better of it and jump aside. Amarantha pushes open the high doors leading into the throne room and stalks in.

With her arrival, the room falls silent. The courtiers standing throughout the room pause their chattering and stare at her, then quickly avert their eyes. On the throne, the King turns his dark eyes to her. He watches her for a moment, as if considering.

“Everybody out,” he orders without tearing his gaze away from Amarantha.

The courtiers follow the order hastily, shuffling past Amarantha out of the door as she slowly walks towards the throne. Ten feet away from it, she stops and bows.

“Your Majesty,” she says and offers him a small smile as she straightens again.

“So you deign to answer my summons at last,” the king says. There is anger in his voice, and only now does Amarantha remember that he did send her letters over the past few days. Letters she threw into the fire unopened.

“I apologize,” she says smoothly. “I was preoccupied.”

“So I heard,” he replies. “Ravenia is furious with you for refusing to hand Miryam over, and then allowing her to be freed. She demands your head.”

“What do I care about Ravenia of the Black Land?” Amarantha asks. “A woman who can’t even win a war against one of her runaway slaves has no business telling me what to do.”

“The Black Land is our most important trading partner,” the king hisses, “and you aggravate its ruler with your impertinence.”

He can truly be short-sighted, that king of hers. Does he ever look beyond what’s right in front of him? “The Black Land is done for,” Amarantha says. “It won’t recover from this, and indulging Ravenia’s wishes would have been folly. If we play this smart, though, we might be the ones who gain the power Ravenia won’t be able to hold after the way she embarrassed herself in this war.”

In truth, Amarantha doesn’t care about power, and she doesn’t believe that Hybern will ever become the new Black Land. They simply aren’t powerful enough to actually carve out a position for themselves on the Continent. No, all they’ll ever be is a country of mediocre importance, nothing more. But Amarantha doesn’t care about that, anyways, as long as she gets Jurian’s head.

Her gaze travels to the throne her king is sitting on. It is made from human bones, brown and withered with age. A charming idea, she thinks. Maybe she will make herself something from Jurian’s bones, too, after she killed him. A crown, perhaps, or a collier. Certainly something she will be able to carry around with her, so that she might always look at it and remember her victory.

“My defeating Jurian,” she says, “will benefit us far more than playing nice with some doomed queen.”

The king leans forward ever so slightly. Amarantha can see it in his eyes – he wants the power he is talking of. “Alright, then,” he says slowly. “Tell me what it is you have come here to say.”

Amarantha’s smile broadens. Of course he knows that she only came to ask him a favour. She wonders, sometimes, if he also knows that she doesn’t care at all about his orders and only plays along with his game for the power the position in his court gives her. Perhaps he does. But she is his best general, and he needs her as much as she needs him.

“I can, of course, easily defeat Jurian on my own,” she says. “But I thought it might suit your interests if I made it impressive.”

His eyes narrow. “And for that,” he says, “you need my spellbook.”

Amarantha nods ever so slightly. He allowed her to use the book once before already, during another war a century ago. But witchers are careful with who they allow access to their knowledge. Hoping that he will give it to her now is a gamble, but one she needs to take. Even without being able to use third grade spells, the book’s spells will open possibilities.  And she needs those for more than just the battle.

“I would just need to look through it once,” she says.

For what feels like an eternity, the King is silent. Then, he slowly rises from his throne. “Alright, then,” he says. “But be warned, General: If you ever disregard my orders again, I’ll see to it that you regret it.”

----

Jurian has grown tired of waiting.

It’s been almost a week now since he killed Clythia, yet Amarantha hasn’t shown her face around his camp yet. On the contrary, she seems content to do anything but deal with him. From the reports he receives, she seems entirely focused on the war effort, capturing Miryam to get Drakon to give up an important strategic location, then capturing Rhysand and his army. If Jurian didn’t know better, he would think that she doesn’t care at all about him murdering her sister.

With each passing day, he grows more restless. Killing Clythia, especially the way he did it, was meant to put an end to that horrible game of cat-and-mouse him and Amarantha were playing, but if it doesn’t…

Jurian can’t wait anymore. With every day that Amarantha still lives, he feels whatever composure he has left cracking further. He doesn’t know for how much longer he will be able to hold it together, so he has to act now, even if being the one to attack will cost him some advantages.

At least Amarantha left her position at the Heseia Fort. Jurian isn’t sure why, and giving up such an important strategic location seems stupid, but he will take whatever advantage he can get. All that really matters is that Amarantha no longer holds Miryam prisoner, which means that he can attack without having to worry about her.

But at the same time, the situation with Miryam is the one thing that makes him hesitate. He desperately wants to talk to her before he goes to face Amarantha. They said they would talk, before she got captured. Jurian still needs to explain what he did to Clythia, before she gets a wrong impression of why he did what he did. And there was something she wanted to tell him, too, but he didn’t listen to her. Maybe they should have talked then, instead of waiting.

Unfortunately, Miryam is still unconscious. Jurian supposes he could visit, but that would require seeing Drakon, and that’s something Jurian doesn’t feel like doing at all. (He doesn’t understand why they brought Miryam to the Callian Pass, anyways. They should have taken her to Telique.) If he wants to talk to Miryam before killing Amarantha, he’ll have to wait for her to wake up, and he can’t stand to wait any longer. Besides, it’s probably easier if he kills Amarantha first and then talks to Miryam. Having Amarantha’s death to show for will make it far easier to explain why killing Clythia the way he did was necessary.

So Jurian comes up with a sensible strategy. He gets his maps for the area where Amarantha’s army is usually stationed and sits down with his captains to discuss. All of them get strict orders not to tell anyone about their plans, since he is sure Andromache would stop him if she knew.

Five days after Miryam got freed, Jurian is ready. The only thing he still hasn’t figured out is how to get Andromache out of the camp so that he can take his army and go without her interfering, but as it happens, fate is on his side. In the early afternoon of the fifth day, Andromache gets called away to an Alliance meeting, leaving him as the one in charge of the camp.

Jurian allows himself a moment to contemplates whether or not to take Andromache’s soldiers along with him. He could use the additional support, but in the end, he decides against it. Stealing Andromache’s soldiers away from under her nose would be bad form, and her captains would only raise a fuss should they realize that their queen didn’t agree to this sudden change of plans. No, if Jurian wants to go after Amarantha, he’ll have to do so with his own army.

His soldiers, fortunately, are well trained, and in spite of some of his past mistakes, they still trust him blindly. It takes only a few quiet words to his captains and they are off, readying his army for the march. Unfortunately for him, Andromache’s captains are far less willing to simply accept his word.

“And you received your orders from the council?” One of them, a woman named Demetra but whom everyone calls Dem, asks. She doesn’t even bother to hide her doubt.

“Are you accusing me of lying?” Jurian asks pointedly. Sometimes, to attack is the best defence strategy.

“No, General,” Dem says. She scrunches up her nose slightly. “I still need to know if the council ordered this, though.”

“I am a member of the council, and I am ordering this right now.” Jurian says. “And you really don’t have the rank necessary to stop me.”

That’s the funny thing about being on the council: No one can really forbid him from doing things. Even Andromache, in spite of being a queen, has the same rank as him and cannot technically tell him what to do. He reckons Miryam could – or would find some other way to stop him from going after Amarantha – but she isn’t around to do so.

Dem watches him for a moment, brow furrowed. She isn’t easily cowed, neither by his rank nor his reputation, and on another day, Jurian would admire that. Today, though, it’s rather inconvenient, so he is glad when she finally inclines her head.

“Then I won’t keep you,” she says.

“Good,” he says. “I want you to stay here until your Queen returns. She will give you your next orders.” He just hopes those won’t be to chase after Jurian and drag him back.

----

“Shit,” Andromache mutters, letting herself drop onto the cushions in Nakia’s suite. “What a complete and utter mess.”

After three hours stuck in a council meeting, trying desperately to appease the other members and spending each moment hoping that Miryam would be back soon, she finally returned to her camp to find Jurian and his army gone. She had just readied her army to chase after him – either to drag him back or to help him – when she received a directive from the council that her army was to hold positions under all circumstances.

The message didn’t specify why, but it sounded serious enough that Andromache could not risk to disobey. After eight hours of sitting on her ass in the camp, not an enemy to be seen, she finally had Yanis winnow her over to Telique to find out what it was all about, only to hear that the entire message had been caused by some administrative error. Naturally, Jurian’s army was far beyond her reach by that time.

“It’s almost like those bastards did it on purpose,” Nakia grumbles.

Andromache is inclined to agree, but instead says, “Still, please be nice when we meet with Zeku.” She hates having to urge for diplomacy when being diplomatic towards these people who do nothing but make her life more difficult is the last thing she wants right now. How does Miryam manage to do that without hitting someone? “If we want to reach Jurian in time, we’ll need Alliance support.”

Annoying as it is, but without the Fae, they’ll never catch up with Jurian before he attacks Amarantha. Human armies simply aren’t fast enough to reach him in time, so they will need the council to dispatch a Fae army. For which they will need Zeku’s support.

Normally, that would be easily arranged. Zeku is, after all, one of their closest Fae allies, which generally includes mutual support. But lately, he hasn’t exactly been accommodating to his allies’ requests and Andromache doesn’t know why. Six years of working together almost seamlessly, but now, Zeku seems to have decided to be just as difficult as most of his kind.

As if on cue, a knock sounds at the door. A moment later, Zeku enters.

He inclines his head. “Your Majesties,” he says.

“Your Grace,” Andromache replies, inclining her head as well.

“Have you heard anything from Princess Miryam yet?” Zeku asks, gracefully sitting down on the couch opposite them.

Hearing Miryam referred to as Princess is still strange, but Andromache will probably have to get used to it. “There has been no news,” she says. “Anyways, it is not Miryam but Jurian we asked you here to discuss. I assume you already heard?”

Zeku nods. “I have. And what is it you want me to do about this?”

“Get us an army,” Nakia says, which really isn’t the pinnacle of diplomacy. But considering how the Fae, Zeku included, have been acting lately, it’s probably better than he deserves.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Zeku replies. Nakia looks positively murderous at that, and he quickly amends, “I am truly sorry, but I couldn’t convince the other Fae to send aid to Jurian if I tried.”

“And why is that?” Andromache asks, trying desperately to contain her rising temper. Seriously, how does Miryam do this? In her place, Andromache would probably have committed murder more than once already.

Zeku sighs. “I understand that you humans care a lot about solidarity and loyalty, and it is something I admire about. Still, you will have to understand that many people will rightfully have a hard time understanding why they should risk their lives to get him out of a mess of his own making.”

“Because we are allies?” Andromache suggests.

“Well, there are more and more people in this Alliance who consider whether they still want to be allied with Jurian,” Zeku says. “There has already been talk of having him removed from the council, and the only reason the issue hasn’t been pushed yet is the human side’s continued support for him.” He sighs. “In all honesty, I have long since been having doubt about General Jurian’s ability to lead, and I only kept them to myself out of courtesy to Miryam. But I simply cannot warrant putting my name down for him any more than I am already doing.”

Andromache crosses her arms. Nakia scowls.

“It would be political suicide,” Zeku adds with a rueful smile. “I’m sorry.”

----

“Alright,” Jurian says, standing in a hastily-erected tent an hour away from Amarantha’s camp. “Here’s the plan.”

His captains, standing around the camp, look back at him expectantly. After more than a day spent on the march, they all seem worn out, but there is a light in their eyes like they, too, can’t wait to finally end this. Jurian likes to imagine that they sense the importance of killing Amarantha, that they are driven by the same frantic energy that keeps him from feeling any tiredness.

“Amarantha likely knows we’re coming,” he says. Her spies must have reported to her the moment their army left its camp, and Jurian didn’t have the magical means to cover their march. “Still, I would like to have gain some advantages for the attack, so we split our army up.”

He points to the map that lies on a makeshift table between them. Amarantha’s camp is marked, as well as all the information their scouts could gather. Amarantha made camp by the spring of a small river at the side of a hill. The position is good, but not all that strong, its biggest advantage lying in the fact that any enemies will have to attack from below, leaving her soldiers the high ground.

“Xeni, you take half my army and stage an attack from the front,” Jurian says. “You do not need to engage in battle, just make enough noise that Amarantha thinks you are the main attack. Meanwhile, I will take the main part of the army around the hill, and then, we will attack Amarantha’s forces from behind. That way, we’ll force Amarantha’s army to fight on to fronts, and we’ll gain the high ground.”

Xeni nods, surveying the map. “Amarantha will notice if my part of the army is smaller, though.”

She’s a good soldier – smart. Jurian would have made her his second months ago already, but he could never quite bear to give Tia’s position to another. Maybe after the battle is over, he will finally do it.

“The trees will provide cover,” he says. “Ideally, Amarantha won’t be able to get a solid count of our numbers during the battle, and my part of the army will only start moving once yours attacked and Amarantha is distracted.”

That means there will be a dangerous moment where Xeni’s army is forced to hold Amarantha off on her own. It’s a risk, but it will likely take a while for the battle to truly get heated, and by then, Jurian’s army should be there to provide reinforcements.

The battle will without doubt end in a duel between him and Amarantha. This will be the fight that decides the outcome of the battle, Jurian is sure of it. And he is equally sure that he will win. Amarantha will be driven by fury, and angry people tend to make mistakes. Jurian will use that. The only thing that might become a problem is that she has magic – however little it might be – and he does not. But Jurian picked up a few small tricks from Miryam over the years, and he wove spells into his armour that should be able to ward off most attacks.

It will work. It has to work.

----

Drakon genuinely hates the Callian Pass.

Everyone always talks about how hard it is to take it, but no one ever mentioned to Drakon that once you have taken it, it is near-impossible to get away from it again. Jurian is facing Amarantha in battle, he might be dying right now, and he is stuck in this cursed castle, unable to do anything. Miryam is still unconscious, and while the healers assure him that she will be fine, they aren’t entirely sure when she will wake up. (Apparently, there is some difficulty with estimating how quickly her body heals, given that she is neither fully Fae nor human, and half Fae healing abilities might fall anywhere in between.)

Drakon feels stuck in some never-ending nightmare where the people he cares about are always facing some kind of danger, and he is stuck here, unable to help. To make matters worse, Artax now has his soldiers probing the walls day and night. They still haven’t attacked outright, but they certainly have a knack for making everything more stressful.

Right now, Artax just finished his sixth pseudo-attack on the castle for the day. Drakon is standing on the battlement, flanked by Sinna and Helion, and looks down at the retreating soldiers below.

“What is he playing at?” Drakon asks. “Why won’t he just attack, put an end to this?”

“Because he is smart,” Sinna says. “He is trying to wear us out, make us expend our resources and keep us on our toes so that when he finally attacks in earnest, his own casualties will be lower.”

“That’s stupid, though,” Drakon says. “He only has the advantage as long as Miryam is out of the game.”

“I doubt the possibility of a human woman ever being a danger to him so much as crossed Artax’s mind,” Helion says, smiling slightly. His smile fades, though, as his attention returns to the enemy army. “And much as I admire Miryam’s abilities, I honestly cannot say his assessment is wrong. I doubt she would stand much of a chance against him.”

Drakon looks down at the army camping below, at the red flags flying in the wind. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he says quietly.

Artax is, without doubt, the most skilled witcher of their age. He has centuries of practice on Miryam. But Drakon has seen the way she looked at him during their last meeting, eyes burning with so much hatred that they seemed to glow from within. Drakon may not know what Artax did to her, but he knows that Miryam hates him just as much as Ravenia.

So far, they never faced each other in battle. Should it ever come to that, they might just rip apart the world between them. But in the end, Drakon doesn’t think that Artax will walk away triumphant. Or walk away at all, for that matter.

“Let’s hope you’re right,” Helion says. “Because I certainly can’t take on Artax, and I don’t know anyone else on our side who can.” He pushes off the stone railing he was leaning against and inclines his head to Drakon. “I’ll go inspect the wards again,” he says, winks at Sinna and walks off.

Sinna rolls her eyes at his retreating form. It’s not that her and Helion don’t get along – as far as Drakon knows, they work together quite well – but they are simply very different people with very different styles and preferences. Helion realizes early on that it is very easy for him to get on Sinna’s nerves, and he seems to enjoy occasionally poking fun at her. Drakon finds the entire matter amusing, and he suspects Helion does, too.

Down below, the retreating soldiers have now reached their camp again. Drakon leans against the stone balustrade and stares down, but his mind is on a different battlefield, a different army. He hates that Jurian is facing Amarantha without either him or Miryam around to help him. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Jurian’s abilities, but lately, he has been reckless in his decisions, especially when it comes to Amarantha.

“You’re worried,” Sinna says. “About Jurian?”

Drakon nods. “I feel like I should be doing something to help him. It isn’t right that he has to fight Amarantha on his own.”

“You want my opinion?” Sinna asks.

Drakon hesitates, then gives her a half-smile. “Actually, probably not,” he says.

Sinna has the tendency to be honest about things, and in this specific case, Drakon doubts her honestly would be particularly pleasant to hear. After all, Sinna told him over a year ago already to press for Jurian’s removal from the council and the war, likely to avoid precisely this outcome. Besides, she doesn’t like Jurian, which is likely to make her judgement of his actions rather harsh.

“Probably smart,” Sinna says.

Drakon is almost tempted to ask her for some reassurance, but in the current situation, that would basically come down to asking her to lie to him. Which is something he definitely does not want. Besides, reassurances are never quite as convincing if you have to ask for them.

----

Rhys doesn’t know how long it has been since he got captured. Days, weeks, months. It all blurs together. All he knows is that he’s in pain, so much pain that he can’t even think straight. The constant screaming of his dying soldiers rings through the camp, piercing his head like knifes.

He can’t take it anymore. All he wants is for it to end. But there is no end. The soldiers who are torturing don’t even ask questions, so there’s nothing he can do, nothing he can says, to make them stop. If there was anything they were asking, he knows he would have given it by now, if only to buy himself a moment of peace.

There’s only one thought that ever manages to pierce the haze of pain in his mind, and that is the thought of revenge. He will kill Amarantha for this. Kill her for what her soldiers are doing to his, to him, and for the fact that she doesn’t even seem to care. He will kill her. And if it’s the last thing he does.

They tied him up between two trees and spiked ash bolts through his wings. He’ll have to tear them free if he wants to fight, destroy his wings in the process, but that doesn’t matter. If he does manage to kill Amarantha, he will be killed soon afterwards, anyways.

As long as he just manages to take her with him, it won’t matter.

Still, he hesitates. Again and again, he tries to summon the courage to tear his wings free from the spikes, but his muscles refuse to obey his commands. He can’t. He loves his wings, loves the sky, and he can’t bring himself to destroy this.

And then, suddenly, it is too late. A horn blast rings out, followed by a second one, then a third, louder than the screams. Slowly, painfully, Rhys looks up.

From where he is chained up, he has a clear view over the camp, so he can easily see the army that is stepping out of the forest in the valley below and approaching.

Distantly, Rhys is aware that he should be glad. If Jurian and his army has arrived, if they are going to defeat Amarantha, he will be saved. But all he can think is they are stealing my revenge.

----

Sneaking through the forest with a thousand soldiers in tow is precisely as challenging as it sounds. It is made harder by the fact that there are magical traps and wards throughout the entire forest, and they keep having to stop and wait for the few Fae or humans with distant Fae ancestry in their group to disable them. They do their best to hurry, but they can’t risk setting off an alarm, so they are still slower than Jurian would like.

It takes them precisely fifteen minutes to walk around the hill and another five to climb up again on the other side. It isn’t much, but still, Jurian’s stomach clenches with worry with every moment they waste. With only half of his army, Xeni won’t stand a chance against Amarantha. They need to hurry.

Finally, they make it to the top of the hill. Jurian holds up a hand, commanding his army to stop, and steps forward until the edge of the forest. From there, he gets a good view of Amarantha’s camp lying a bit below, and the battle that’s raging at its edge.

Jurian can make out Amarantha amongst her soldiers. Her red hair is like a flag in the slight wind, clearly marking her where she stands, dressed in dark armour, at the centre of her troops.

Further down, he can see Xeni’s part of his army. They keep their position at the edge of the forest like he told them to. Jurian is about to give the order for attack to his army when Amarantha suddenly turns around towards him. Jurian freezes, sure that she has seen him, but Amarantha merely surveys the trees they are hiding in for a moment before turning back to the attacking army. Jurian could have sworn she smiles before she does, though.

A shiver runs down his spine. His gut tells him that something is wrong. It is too late to go back, though, and anyways, Jurian didn’t come this far only to turn back at a mere feeling.

He turns around to the soldiers waiting behind him. He opens his mouth to order the attack, but before he gets a word out, a slight tremor runs through the ground below. Jurian spins back around to the battle. His eyes immediately find Amarantha, who has raised her hands high above her head and appears to be chanting something.

Another tremor runs through the ground. But that isn’t possible. Amarantha isn’t a witch, and none of Jurian’s reports on her hinted at her having any affinity for spells. Her king is a witcher, but Amarantha, as far as he knows, rarely ever relies on magic in battle. Still, she is clearly casting a spell now. Jurian takes a step forward, as if he’ll be able to stop whatever she is doing.

Just below Amarantha’s camp, the ground bursts open. Behind Jurian, someone gasps, and he takes another step forward. But there’s nothing he can do as a fountain of water shoots out of the ground. Drops glitter in the moonlight, and for a moment, it almost looks pretty.

Then, the water goes crashing down into the valley in a giant flood wave.

Jurian is distantly aware that he screams something, but the sound is drowned out by the roaring of the water. The wave is high enough that he can’t even make out the tips of the trees anymore.

“No,” Jurian whispers. He can’t believe what he is seeing. There’s no way Amarantha just summoned a flood wave from nothing, there’s no way she… “No, please.”

His fingers begin to tremble. Below, the water recedes slowly, rushing further down into the valley. In its wake, it leaves trees torn from the ground, bent over and broken. There is no sign left of the army that was standing there until a moment ago. Jurian’s entire body is shaking now.

Amarantha turns back around, and this time, Jurian is sure that she smiles at him. He realizes that he is no longer hidden behind the trees, that he is standing in plain sight, but he can’t bring himself to care.

No. No, this can’t be real. His soldiers are fine, they will be fine. They didn’t… Half his army. He can’t have lost half his army in under a minute. It simply isn’t possible. And yet, his soldiers are gone, and he knows, deep down, that they won’t have survived this.

With shaking hands, Jurian reaches for his sword. As soon as his fingers close around the hilt, his mind stills. His senses seem to sharpen, and his focus zeroes in on Amarantha. Slowly, he draws his sword.

“Attack!” He shouts, raising his sword into the air.

 Around Jurian, the battle rages. He is only distantly aware that his side is losing, that they are sorely outnumbered and don’t stand a chance. In his mind, he still sees the wave rushing down into the valley. He lost half his army in under a minute.

Amarantha. He needs to find her, needs to kill her. As soon as she is gone, it will… it will all be fine, then. He knows it will be. But the battle is so chaotic, and he has no idea how to find her. He simply keeps fighting, killing his way through the enemy soldiers, hoping he will find her somehow.

In the end, he isn’t sure if he finds Amarantha or if she finds him. But suddenly, they are standing mere feet away from each other on the battlefield. Around them, their soldiers part, as if to make space for them. Jurian barely notices. All he can see is Amarantha, standing there, mere feet away from him.

He thinks of his soldiers, mutilated beyond recognition and left for him to find. Of the flood wave crashing down into the valley and killing half of his army. Of all the pain and guilt and suffering, all caused by Amarantha. It will end today. He will end it all, here and now.

“I’m going to kill you,” he says very softly, not caring if she hears him or not.

A smile twists Amarantha’s mouth. “You are welcome to try,” she replies.

They both attack at the same time. Blades flashing in the air, they circle each other, jump forward and back as if caught in some twisted form of a dance. Amarantha is faster and stronger, but Jurian knew that in advance. She is also undoubtedly good, her technique nearly flawless, but like he estimated, she fights angry instead of smart.

Anger seems to dictate her every movement. She puts too much force behind her blows, and takes nearly every opening Jurian gives. She’s like a wild animal, eager for his blood, and it makes her reckless.

In the end, it is him who lands the first blow, a slice across Amarantha’s shoulder. She snarly at him for it, as if she is truly more animal than person, and Jurian grins.

Amarantha raises her hand and sends a flare of dark power shooting towards him. Jurian dodges, but not fast enough to avoid the entirety of the blast. The fringes still hit – and bounce off harmlessly at the ward that jumps to life around Jurian. His entire body seems to vibrate under the power, but the ward holds.

“Learned some tricks from that witch-friend of yours?” Amarantha hisses. “Maybe she should have taught you how to counter my flood spell.” She laughs. “But wait. You’re human – you couldn’t have.”

Jurian charges. This time, he is the one whose attacks are fuelled by anger, and he forces Amarantha back a few steps. The laugh vanishes from her face as Jurian’s blade slices through her armour and into her arm.

In answer, she sends another wave of power shooting towards him. His wards crack under the assault, and he can almost feel them splinter. Amarantha might not have much magical power to call her own, but it is more than Jurian can counter with the few tricks Miryam showed him. Under her next attack, his wards shatter entirely and he gets thrown to the ground. He only barely manages to roll aside in time to avoid Amarantha’s sword shooting for his head, and jumps back to his feet.

“Are you so pathetic a fighter that you need magic to defeat me?” He shouts at her.

“I’d defeat you even unarmed,” Amarantha snarls back at him.

“Go ahead, then.” Jurian laughs. “Drop your sword.”

She doesn’t, of course, but she doesn’t use her magic again, either. For a moment, they simply circle each other. Jurian looks at Amarantha and sees his own anger reflected on her face. She loses her patience first and charges. Jurian manages a slice to her cheek, although she moves aside quickly enough to keep it shallow.

But to his dismay, Jurian notices that he is beginning to tire. Amarantha is faster, stronger, and with each moment the fight lasts, he is finding it harder and harder to keep up. He needs to end this before he becomes too exhausted to keep fighting, but while she makes more mistakes than he does, she doesn’t give him to opening he would need to win.

They break apart again. Circle each other before attacking once more. This time, Jurian is a bit too slow in his reactions, and she manages a cut to Jurian’s side. Her sword slices through his armour and bites into the flesh below. He barely feels the pain, but the blow still makes him stumble.

Amarantha is already moving again, so quickly Jurian can barely follow. She brings her blade down in an arc, metal glinting in the moonlight. Jurian jerks his own sword down in an attempt to counter the blow, the movement far too sloppy. He only barely catches the blow, and with his sword’s hilt instead of the blade. It isn’t a clean parry, and Amarantha’s blade slices his leg as she swings it around.

Jurian changes his grip on his sword to meet her next attack, but the hilt is suddenly slick in his grip and the sword almost slips out of his fingers. He looks down and finds his hand drenched in blood. It is running all over his sword’s grip, dripping down the blade. So much blood… Jurian blinks down at his hand, suddenly dizzy. It looks wrong, under all that blood. Almost like…

Jurian stares and stares at his hand. The hand that is now missing three fingers. His index finger is gone entirely, and from there, the slice goes diagonally over his hand, severing most of his middle and ring finger. Then, as if it had been waiting for him to realize what had happened, the pain hits. Jurian gasps, tears making his vision go blurry.

A movement at the corner of his eye catches his attention. At the last moment, he jumps back, only narrowly avoiding being beheaded by Amarantha’s blow. He nearly drops his sword in the process, though.

Amarantha bares her teeth in what might have been a smile. “Already done?” She taunts.

Jurian grits his teeth and changes his sword hand, doing his best to ignore the pain, and the blood still gushing from where his fingers used to be. The sword must have gotten heavier in the last moments, though, because he can only barely lift it.

“Not yet,” he manages through gritted teeth.

But he is done. He feels it with every blow he manages to execute only sloppily, with every too-slow reaction. His body is trembling and he can only barely hold onto his sword. He does not land a single hit, and with each moment, his vision swims more and more. As Amarantha continues to attack, he has to yield step after step.

Amarantha smiles at him. “Oh, I think you are done,” she says.

The force of her next blow knocks Jurian’s sword straight out of his hand. He stumbles back, loses his balance and falls to the ground. The impact knocks the air straight out of his lungs and for a moment, Jurian simply blinks up at the dark sky above, unable to so much as move.

Amarantha’s face appears above him. She still has her sword, and its tip is now hovering only an inch away from his throat.

No, Jurian thinks, this is all wrong. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. But he can’t even summon the strength to move. His mind is moving too slowly, he has a hard time holding on to individual thoughts. He is strangely cold, and everything hurts. Maybe he will die from blood loss before Amarantha manages to kill him.

Slowly, he tears his gaze away from Amarantha and towards her sword, its blade painted red with his blood. If he is going to die, her face isn’t going to be the last thing he sees. His thoughts drift to Miryam. He should have waited to speak to her before rushing off to face Amarantha. Now, he won’t get the chance. And his soldiers… he led them to their deaths, all of them, and then, he didn’t even get the chance to avenge them. When it came down to it, he failed. He failed all of them.

His vision blurs further, but still, he keeps his eyes trained on the sword, waiting for the blow to come. What is she waiting for?

“I won’t kill you,” Amarantha says.

Jurian refuses to look at her, won’t give her that satisfaction. He keeps his eyes trained on her sword, still waiting for it to fall in spite of what she said.

“No,” Amarantha says softly, almost gently and moves her sword up towards his face. “I won’t make it that easy for you.”

The sword comes down and Jurian screams.

----

Jurian faced Amarantha in battle and lost. Most of his soldiers were killed, he himself captured.

The news arrived two hours ago, brought by one of Grand Duke Zeku’s spies, and the Alliance has been in an uproar ever since. It is almost worse than when Miryam got captured, although this time around, most people seem more concerned with the lost battle than the fact that a member of their council got captured by the enemy. In fact, most of the Fae don’t seem to care about Jurian’s fate at all. At least that’s the impression Andromache got after listening to the council’s endless arguments for the better part of an hour.

Only a week without Miryam around to deal with the council, and she already feels like she is slowly losing her mind. With every passing day, she hates the council more and more. Their endless quarrelling, the needless arguments, the fact that they never ever do what it takes without at least an hour of arguing in advance.

But what annoys her the most is the lack of loyalty, of principle. Andromache is human, and if there is one thing she learned, it’s that you always stick together. You have each other’s back. Most of her Fae allies seem more inclined to put a knife in her back the moment she lets her guard down, though, and loyalty seems to be a foreign concept to them as they prove again and again.

“Amarantha is no longer at the Heseia Pass,” she says slowly, trying hard not to let the annoyance creep into her voice. “An attack could be executed with little risk, especially with Amarantha so focused on Jurian that she likely doesn’t pay attention to anything else.”

She tries very hard not to think about what Amarantha’s focus likely looks like. She has seen what Hybern does to their prisoners, and Amarantha will likely think up something especially gruesome for Jurian. Andromache needs to get him out somehow, but the council is blocking her at every turn.

“How many times do you wish to go over this, Your Majesty?” Shey asks. He actually has the nerve to sound like she is the one who’s being difficult. “We do not risk lives unnecessarily to free captured commanders.”

And this is exactly Andromache’s problem. These are their allies they are talking about. It is their duty to do everything in their power to free them, and even though Andromache isn’t in favour of sacrificing many lives for one, this is hardly the case here.

“It isn’t just about Jurian,” she says. “It’s also about all the soldiers that got captured with him, and about the Night Court soldiers.” She hesitates. “Rhysand,” she adds, because it is entirely possible that the Fae will care more about one of their own than about a human and because she knows Mor cares. “And about the chance to win a big victory against Hybern. Why are you so opposed to this?”

She looks around the table, desperately searching for support. But the only Fae who seems to be on her side is Drakon, who winnowed over from the Callian Pass specifically for this meeting. (Unfortunately, he didn’t bring Miryam along, which would have made things easier for everyone involved.)

“We simply cannot spare the troops right now,” Shey says. Complete and utter bullshit, of course. The war is going well enough for them that they would have the troops to spare, and easily.

Andromache shoots a helpless look at Drakon. He just lifts his shoulders slightly and turns to Zeku with a pleading look on his face. The Grand Duke ignores him, as he ignores most of their problems lately. Andromache will need to have a word with him. Or better yet, she will ask Miryam to have a word with him once she returns, since she will probably be more diplomatic about it.

Andromache considers calling for a vote, but what use would it be? She already knows the outcome. She probably shouldn’t have hoped. If their allies weren’t willing to save Miryam, odds of them moving a finger for Jurian, whom most of them don’t even like, were slim at best. Still, Andromache had hoped… But she should have known better.

Abruptly, she rises to her feet. “If you insist,” she says, and now, her voice is sharp. “I certainly won’t forget your generosity.”

With that, she stalks out of the room. She only barely manages to keep from slamming the door.

By the time she reached her room, she at least managed to calm herself down far enough that she can offer the guards a smile. Inside, Mor is waiting sprawled on the couch in the drawing room. When Andromache enters, she straightens.

“Anything?” She asks. Andromache knows that her concern is probably more about Rhysand than Jurian, but that’s only fair, since Andromache is certainly more concerned about Jurian than about Rhysand.

“No,” Andromache says, letting herself drop to the couch next to Mor. “Fuck each and every one of these bastards.”

Andromache’s calling, she decides, does not lie in diplomacy. She thought she was good at it, and before this war began, she never had any trouble, but these days, she feels more like screaming at Shey with every passing moment.

“Shit,” Mor says and buries her face in her hands.

She worries about Rhysand, enough that she barely sleeps anymore. Andromache cannot claim to care a whole lot about the heir to the Night Court, but she cares about Mor, so she keeps reminding herself to also care about Rhysand.

“We’ll figure something out,” she says and puts an arm around Mor’s shoulders. “Rhysand is still alive, I’m sure he will be fine.” Even though he’s currently being tortured, as both of them know. It makes her reassurances far less convincing.

Andromache’s thoughts drift back to Jurian. The report they received said nothing of what state he is in, only that he’s alive. Andromache privately thinks that it might have been better for him if he hadn’t survived the battle. Now, he will still die, but Amarantha will likely find a way to make it slow and painful. And Andromache won’t be able to stop it. They got lucky with Miryam, but Andromache isn’t stupid enough to believe anything like this will happen again. Not when Amarantha has likely been planning Jurian’s death without pause for weeks.

A knock sounds at the door and one of her guards pokes his head in. “Your Majesty?” He asks. “Prince Drakon is waiting outside, he wants to speak to you.”

“Sure, let him in,” Andromache says.

Drakon enters a moment later. Both his feathers and hair are slightly ruffled and he looks about as tired as Andromache feels.

“Hello Only Fae Council Member I Can Currently Stand,” she says. “Could you pass me the wine from the cupboard?”

“Sure,” Drakon says. He walks over to the cupboard and searches around a bit before fishing out a bottle of wine. “I can’t find glasses,” he says.

“Doesn’t matter,” Andromache says.

Drakon sits down on an armchair opposite them and hands the bottle to Andromache. She takes a swig, then passes it to Mor. They end up passing the bottle around, although that strategy is hardly very effective since neither Mor nor Drakon can actually get drunk on human drinks. Andromache for her part could theoretically get drunk, but she takes care not to drink too much. There might be developments at any moment, and she needs to keep a clear head.

“I keep feeling like we should have done something,” Drakon mutters. “I mean, we all saw this coming, we should have…” He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“We should have taken away his command position,” Andromache says. “Months ago already.”

Drakon wraps his wings around himself like some kind of blanket. Andromache wonders if it’s as comforting as being hugged. If it is, she finds it extremely unfair that she doesn’t have wings – she could certainly use a hug right now. As if sensing her feelings, Mor moves closer to her and wraps an arm around her. Andromache leans into the embrace, immediately feeling better.

“I tried to talk to Zeku after the meeting,” Drakon says. He sounds miserable. “But he wouldn’t listen to me.”

“He doesn’t listen to me either,” Andromache says. “You wouldn’t by chance have any news regarding Miryam?”

Drakon shakes his head. “Still unconscious.”

“Damn,” Andromache mutters. Miryam might have been able to somehow turn this around. And if she would have had to cleave the world apart to do so, she would have found a way to save Jurian. Andromache rubs her hands over her face, sighing. “One army. We’d only need one army and we could free them.”

One army capable of travelling more swiftly than humans are able to, unfortunately. Andromache could take her own army and go – considered doing just that more than once already – but Amarantha’s spies would see them coming from miles off, and any chance they might have had of freeing the prisoners would vanish. Even if Andromache should win, chances are Amarantha would kill Jurian and Rhysand before she allowed them to be freed.

“I have an army,” Drakon says, “but…” He shrugs helplessly.

“You can’t, I know,” Andromache says. “There’s nothing any of us can do. We’ll just have to wait.”

----

A/N: This chapter was originally meant to go longer, but I had to split it up for pacing reasons (and also because of the length). This means that the next chapter is already mostly written, though, so I should have it done within a few days.

Tags: @croissantcitysucks @femtopulsed

[dreamingsushi]

The Yin-Yang Master: Dream of Eternity

So I was looking for clips of Zhao Youting for animated gif making and I stumbled across a video of this movie starring him and Deng Lun, and that was of course on my long long long watchlist on Netflix. And it's been a while since I haven't done any reviews, so many projects are still ongoing, but what a better way than to start with a movie. Because after two hours, it's done and I can just go back to whatever else I was doing and it doesn't cause sleepless nights since I won't need to keep on watching when the two hours are over. As usual, I have actually totally no idea what this is about, I guess from the bits and parts I saw (and the title) that this must have some xianxia background to it and I wouldn't mind that at all. After all, that's just my favorite genre when it comes to drama. And movies. So wither further do, let's dig into this!

Right from the start, beautiful sceneries and images. I feel mesmerized by what I'm seing. It all starts with a little boy, Qing Ming being taught by his teacher how to cast a protection spell however he can't seem to master it, even after years of practice and finds a way to protect himself otherwise. But his master isn't pleased with his side ways and even though he's the best disciple, if he can't master something as basic as this, he will never become a Yin-Yang Master. Then, the big ice wall starts to crack up and the master sends Qing Ming away and summons three magic beings. Beasts? Not sure yet what are they. But the special effects are gorgeous, everything is gorgeous.

But no matter how hard the master tries, a bad snake comes out of the wall and when it's time to conjure the protection spell, Qing Ming tries his trick but of course it doesn't work, so the master sends his shield to his disciple and ends up being badly injured but the snake and one of his minions jumps in the snake's mouth to kill it. And it was all in vain because it won't cure his master since it wasn't the real snake. So the master will die. Qing Ming is afraid to be left alone and he doesn't care about people remembering him, but his master calls him the Yin-Yang Master.

Seriously, this really beautiful, as far as I am concern. The costumes. The setting. I'm really impressed. It really immerges you in the spirit of the movie.

Ouuuuh a Deng Lun playing the flute. That is nice. Him and Qing Ming both sense that there is a demon somewhere near and start moving, and so they meet. But somehow, Qing Ming saves the pipa playing demon? I'm so confused. Ah, that's because he's not a mean one. So Deng Lun's character hates demons, but Qing Ming thinks some demons are good. So they end up fighting while the demon flees. The choreography of the fight is beautiful. So well executed. In the end, Qing Ming wins. And he drops Deng Lun on the top of a roof.

The demon waited for Qing Ming because he wanted to thank him for saying that demons have feelings too. And he asks to become... hmmm... like his servant? It's more complicated than that obviously, but I can't quite put the right word on their relationship now. Some concepts are so hard to translate to be honest, because we have actually nothing similar in Western culture. Anyways.

Deng Lun goes back to his academy or temple, wherever it is that he's training, to receive orders regarding the bad snake from the beginning of the movies. Some of his shadows are coming back to stir up troubles. He has been sent to attend some worship ceremony and bumps again into Qing Ming, which angers him because he believes that someone sympathizing with demons shouldn't have the right to attend. So he challenges him to a duel, but Qing Ming declines. Then some girl comes to ask if he's declining because he's afraid of losing. Then some other man comes over and tells them to go have a rest, but when he sees him, something seems to shock Qing Ming. Probably he knows him from somewhere else? We'll see. That girl and that guy are both creepy. Like they give me chills. They are too soft spoken.

As cultivators, I feel it's kind of weird that hey get dressed up by other people, even though it's a special day. They are not royalty.... And I don't like Qing Ming's hair for that part. Then a princess comes around. The creepy girl spreads the gossip about her: she isn't married even though she's over 30 and she might know of demonic cultivation. One of the cultivator wasn't there, and when they ask about him, they hear he died. So the creepy guy will take his place during the sea,ling ceremony. The guy was killed by a demon. Qing Ming suggest the killer is in there. So the creepy girl suggests they use her technique to detect demonic energy, so they decide to. The fishes in the bowl all converge to Qing Ming: it is said that his mother was a fox demon. Oh interesting. The princess orders to take him away, but Bo Ya says Qing Ming wasn't the one to kill the master. How does he know? What is he going to say??? So he put that little bell in Qing Ming's room that night, the one he noticed. So he didn't go out of his room. The Princess says it's not enough to prove his innocence, but Qing Ming has another evidence: someone stuck something on him and that thing actually lures the fish when he passes it over to Bo Ya. Then the fishes move to the princess. She gives them three days to summon the beasts to lock away the bad snake.

Oh so they all spied on each other. Hahaha.

I really like Qing Ming's character. He was asking Bo Ya to have a drink, but he's in a hurry to leave. Then one of his servants comes around and Bo Ya almost kills it again because it's a demon. He tells him to become a demon instead of a cultivator if likes them so much. His answers really angers Bo Ya. But I just love how Qing Ming is really calm about everything, he's so relaxed.

Okay, I'm not digging the thrid eye in the middle of Bo Ya's forehead. That's creepy. Like it's well done, but I really dislike it. Anyways, they all go around killing demons, I guess to wake up the guardians as they feed spirit balls to their statues. Except for Qing Ming. He's drinking with a bunch of women. I like that he's relaxed, not that he's some womanizer. But I guess there's something more to it than that so I'm not too worried yet. Later on he meets with Shou Yue and asks him if they ever met. But he never left the palace. He asks him if he killed the other master, but actually he's a servant of his late master, so he's going to die soon.

Ohhh so he was collecting information as to find the demon spirit to feed the dragon he has to awaken. As he's explaining that to Bo Ya, a servant comes for Qing Ming as something happened to the princess. While he's trying to treat her, Qing Ming notices some worm-like shapes moving under her skin. So he takes it from her body to his. It makes him ill and thanks to Bo Ya. The spirit is enough to awake the dragon.

Bo Ya and Qing Ming share a little of their past. Bo Ya's mom was killed by a demon, so he started cultivating to rid the world of demons. Whereas Qing Ming was mistreated by people because people branded his mother for being a demon. That the only nice person to him was his master. So he shows Bo Ya how he died at his hands.

Okay so the four masters end up fighting each other while someone tried to enter the emperess's rooms. Ah long, the creepy girl with the fishes noticed something odd about the princess and she gets killed by a bunch of hair. Before dying, she tells Qing Ming that the princess is the murderer. Later that night Bo Ya threatens Qing Ming while the princess asks Shou Yue why he betrayed her. So Shou Yue is controlling the hair demon and killed Ah Long because she knew their secret. He wants to bring back the snake. And he killed the other master earlier. Now he plans on killing Qing Ming and Bo Ya. Qing Ming is convinced that the killer is the Princess from what Ah Long told him, but Bo Ya still doubts Shouyue. But then Qing Ming tells him the relationship between Shouyue and his previous master. So Bo Ya thinks it's a conspiracy against the princess, since he grew up with her. So they're both convinced that they friend isn't the bad guy. They both are. I guess they are somehow lovers too? Confusing much, but she doesn't kill him.

Boya and Qing Ming both go their way to discover who is the murderer. And they each tell each other to call if they need help. So of course, Shouyue betrayed the master and he's going to try and kill Bo Ya. The hair demon kills the princess before Qing Ming can ask anything and it stole the sword Qing Ming's master entrusted to him. I think? I'm not sure. Okay, so the air demon killed the princess by itself and not under the orders of Shouyue. She broke out of the controlling spell, as she was a servant spirit. But not I am kind of lost. Qing Ming finds a portrait and it seems to be revealing of something important but... haha I lost some bits and parts I guess. Because I don't understand.

Qing Ming rushes to see Bo Ya. The princess isn't dead. She's actually the empress. Her body is actually sealing away the bad snake. She got eternal life. When she starts feeling unwell after telling all about her past, when they try to attack, Shouyue sends them in boxes filling with sand. Qing Ming manages to save Bo Ya in extremis.

Omg, the girl is the sword. She was in love with the master? And now she gave birth to the bad snake and Shouyue eats it, preventing the sword to kill it. So now Shouyue is not dying anymore. So that's what they were trying to do. But it's not enough. Qing Ming and Bo Ya comes in too late. The snake is now huge and the guardians didn't wake up because Shouyue didn't feed his. The snake is trying to kill everyone. He's trying to take her away from Tiandu. But then the Princess jumps from the snake, bringing with her Shouyue so they shall die together. The snake eat both of them. Qing Ming calls his servants to fight away the snake. However, Shouyue didn't die and he comes out of the snake, battling the servants like a badass. Bo Ya is asking Qing Ming to make him his spirit servant, whatever how I should translate that, as he will sacrifice himself to save the princess and awake the last guardian.

I said that Shouyue guy was creepy. Like so much. I don't get his motive.

Okay so now Bo Ya became the guardian. But like... where are the three other ones?

Qing Ming goes into the snake to look for the princess. She's stuck in an illusion where she sees Qing Ming's master. So Qing Ming takes her to when his master died. The master gives her the dagger/sword, however you like to call it. It was named after her name, by herself, so the master could remember her. She makes me so sad. Poor lady. Cursed to live eternally to birth a big bad snake ):

Qing Ming takes her back to the world and send Fangyue to Bo Ya. Who sends it to the snake, but he uses a protection curse. So the princess threatens to kill herself and does it so Shouyue can't use the protection spell. Bo Ya jumps in front of Qing Ming to protect him. Then Shouyue comes back to attack, Qing Ming's protection spell fails to work, but in the end he manages to do it because he found someone he's willing to protect: Bo Ya. So Shouyue was made out of his master to always stay by her side. So that's why he looked so similar. Because he wanted to look his master. So in the end, his motivation was to live forever to protect Fangyue.

That's it, now I'm crying. Even the bad guy was a good guy in the end. He was just doing what he was asked to. And now Qing Ming and Bo Ya are parting ways. Seriously. Why are they always making me cry so bad?

What the heck. Why is she not dead? I mean the creepy girl. Why is she breathing again now? How can they do this to me? And there's nothing else, it's over... Seriously TT

This definitely was a very good movie. It was well executed. The plot line seemed a little bit chaotic for me at first, I was already taking out points to this movie because of that, it felt as if it wasn't going anywhere. I was wondering what was that story telling and everything became so clear at the end. I wasn't expecting the princess at all to actually be the empress, nor Shouyue a part of the master (or maybe I didn't understand that when he introduced himself first?). It was just such a touching story. Loved the dynamic between Zhao Youting and Deng Lun, even though their friendship and trust built a little too fast for me. But overall, there were not loopholes in the plot. The special effects were really good. The costumes, gorgeous. The music perfect. I just really highly highly recommend. Seriously. Put that on your watchlist. It's so so so worth it.