#virgin blood just means blood that hasn’t been used in a ritual before so in other words

[wellthebardsdead]

Mannimarco: nightshade and now I just need virgin blood and we should be able to break the seal. *draws his dagger*

Kaidan: great where are we supposed to find a virgin in the middle of a dungeon dedicated to the tribun- OW!

Mannimarco: *stabs his hand and pours the blood on the altar opening it* oh good it worked.

Taliesin: *snorts* seems you’re not getting nearly as much action as you like to say you are swordsman~

Evalien: *reads the text again* oh no it does say virgin blood. Not blood of a virgin.

Mannimarco: literary context matters in occult practices- fair warning the chamber ahead is filled with corprus victims so I’m guessing I’m going in first?

Kaidan: *kicks him in then throws Taliesin in after him* Arseholes.

[ghostdaichi]

My Kids Think I’m A Cooler DM Pt. 2

Eddie Munson x Reader

Eddie gets his chance to show off his DM skills to Lady Chaos, the freshmen’s original DM.

AN: I got quite a few requests to do a pt. 2 so here it is! I’m so glad you liked the first one and I hope this one holds up!

Part 1

(Warnings: Cursing, suggestive language, flirting/bullying Jason, mentions of weed)

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Finding the Hellfire Club room was a lot more difficult than you thought it was going to be. You didn’t go to Hawkins High after your freshman year, you went to some fancy ass private school in the next town over.

Asking for directions wasn’t helping either. You stop a girl in the hallway and when she was about to respond, a blond kid in a letterman jacket speaks up.

“What is that freak using you as their virgin sacrifice?” You slowly turn to him and tilt your head to the side. “I’m sorry?” “That cult is going to use you as their virgin sacrifice, I’d run the other way and never turn back.” You cracked your neck. Putting trust fund assholes like this guy in there place ended up being your favorite pastime in high school.

You step closer to him. “Jason is it?” You run a finger over the embroidery on his jacket. “A virgin sacrifice refers to someone who’s blood hasn’t been used in ritual sacrifice before..therefore mine wouldn’t work, yours on the other hand would be perfect. Though as far as the other meaning of the word, you wouldn’t be able to handle me baby boy. I’d ruin you in two seconds flat.”

The color drains from the jock’s face and you give him a sickeningly sweet smile. “Now. Where is the Hellfire Club room?”

The boys were setting up for their session and Eddie was starting to grow more and more impatient. “Eddie she’ll be here, I’m sure she just got lost.” Dustin speaks up, all three boys start to feel anxious about what would happen if you didn’t show.

“If your champion doesn’t show, she must forfeit the challenge and-“ The door swings open and Jason of all people walks in. He doesn’t make eye contact with anyone when you walk into the club room.

“Ah I was starting to think you weren’t coming M’lady.” Eddie bows dramatically to you, all the previous tension left the rest of the group. “You thought I wasn’t going to come and beat your ass Munson? You were very mistaken.” He shoots you a grin and finally acknowledges Jason. “As much and I am happy to see you, why is he here?”

“Learning a lesson. Don’t be rude Jason, say hello.” The very condescending and cocky voice you use is only known by anyone here as a voice from your campaign. Seeing it in a real life situation was weird.

“Hello…Munson..” Jason struggles to call Eddie anything other than ‘freak’, but he didn’t which makes everyone in the room audibly gasp. “Okay Jason that’s enough now, you may go.” He quickly leaves after you say that, running to basketball practice like a dog with its tail between his legs.

There was a moment of silence before Mike yells, “What the hell was that?!” You grin. “A magician never reveals their secrets.” You wink at Eddie and you both sit down to start the session.

“Not bad sir, not bad at all.” You approach Eddie once the game ends. “I do have some ideas though if you’re willing to hear them.” Eddie pauses for a second, Gareth comes up behind him and whispers, “Dude ask her out!” He glares over his shoulder and tells everyone to get out. “Except you of course, Lady Chaos.” They all leave so it is just the two of you.

“I’d love to share my ideas over something to eat if that’s okay with you.” You realized when Gareth said that, Eddie wasn’t going to ask you, so you did first. His face flushes red before he nods. “Yeah sure that actually sounds fun, I’m in.” Eddie smiles and throws an arm around your shoulders. “But first I need to know, what did you do to Jason and can you teach me?” You laugh as you both start walking out of the school. “I can tell you, but I’m afraid you don’t have the…assets to be able to actually do it.” He throws his head back in laughter, slightly understanding the interaction more. Eddie starts towards his van and you to your car. He stops and turns to you. “Are you coming m’lady?” You look between him and your car, shrug, and head over to him.

“You know you’re allowed to call me (Y/n) right?” He nods and opens the passenger door. “Yeah but I like to call you m’lady. Makes me feel respectful.” You giggle softly and hop up into the van that smelled like weed. Eddie climbs in and speeds off, heading towards a diner closer to the edge of town.

“No fucking way, you said that to Jason Carver!?” You sip on a milkshake, telling Eddie the story about earlier in the day. “Yes! His face went so pale so fast! It was hilarious.” Eddie laughs and looks back up to you. “Ya know, I really like hanging out with you (Y/n), you’re actually really cool.” “What? You didn’t think I was going to be insanely cool and awesome?” You joke and he starts trying to backtrack. “I’m kidding Eddie, I think you’re cool too.”

At the end of the night, Eddie takes you back to the school so you could get your car and drive back home. “Thank you for tonight Eddie, it was a lot of fun.” “You are very welcome my dear lady, have a good night.” He smiles and you kiss his cheek before getting into your car. Eddie’s face turns a bright shade of red as he watches you drive off into the night.

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TAGLIST: @joukiworld @6452291-1

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[gameofdrarry]

Wizards Hearts Recs: Werewolf Creature!Fic

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 Embers by shiftylinguini Rated:  Explicit Words:  41216 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, First Time, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Draco Malfoy, Omega Harry Potter, Werewolves, Heat Companion Harry Potter, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Masturbation, Knotting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Scent Marking, Scent Kink, Come Marking, Dirty Talk, sexual negotiation, H/D Career Fair 2017 Summary:  Werewolf Alphas aren't meant to be alone, or to suppress their ruts indefinitely like Draco has been since he was bitten eight years ago. He needs company, companionship, to knot ― he needs an Omega Heat Companion. At least, that’s what the Healers say, and even Draco can admit contacting the person they’ve referred him to might be nice. Of course it turns out to be bloody Potter. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Heart Like Neon by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill) Rated:  Explicit Words:  41103 Tags: Sex Work, Sex worker Harry Potter, Rentboys, rentboy Harry potter, Past Harry/Ginny - Freeform, past Draco/Theo, Harry/OMC - Freeform, Trans Male Character, Trans Female Character, Switching, Transphobia, Tattoos, hung harry, POV Alternating, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Rimming, Comeplay, Watersports, Duelling, Facials Summary:  Bored of being The Chosen One, Harry discovers he rather likes sex and becomes a professional. He’s good at it, and part of why is that he can read people. Not minds, not Legilimens, but their whole self, and he can give them what they don’t even know they want. Enter Draco fucking Malfoy, enigma to everyone, including himself. Harry can’t help but want to break into him, to figure him out. And Draco, thinking he’ll fuck Potter on a lark, has no idea what he’s in for. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Who we are in the shadows by Quicksilvermaid Rated:  Explicit Words:  99714 Tags: Dubious Consent, werewolf instincts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, child trafficking, Brief Claustrophobia, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Past minor character death, Past Child Death, Bigotry & Prejudice, prejudice against werewolves, internalized prejudice, Murder, Stabbing, Poison, Hallucinations, Creature Fic, Werewolf Harry, Werewolves, Auror Harry Potter, Case Fic, Masturbation, wanking, werewolf attack, Aural Voyeurism, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Biting, Marking, Claiming, Scenting, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Rough Sex, Edging, Secrets, Lies, Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed, Loyalty, Loyalty Bond, Bonding, Angst, Domestic, Falling In Love, Enemies to Lovers, Self-Acceptance, Emotional Growth, Angst with a Happy Ending, References to Auror Brutality, H/D Erised 2019, Comeplay, Wall Sex, sex without lube, Identity Porn, Secret Identity Summary:  What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost. But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy's world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself. What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Elusive Mate by 0idontknow0 Rated:  Explicit Words:  25786 Tags: Rating: NC17, Fanart, Creature Fic Summary:  Harry had done it (a) to save lives and (b) because the idea of him being Malfoy’s mate was clearly ridiculous, but now he had to tell Malfoy. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Finding A Place To Call Home by marysiak Rated:  Explicit Words:  54747 Tags: Alternate Universe, Creature Fic, Werewolves, Post-Hogwarts, Rough Sex, Top Draco Malfoy, Bottom Harry Summary:  Feeling directionless after the war, Harry is unexpectedly torn out of his own universe and thrust into another, where he must hide out with Remus Lupin, Teddy and Draco Malfoy as Severus Snape and Hermione try to find a way to send him home and save both his and his unwitting doppelganger's lives. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 as much a light as a flame by p1013 Rated:  Explicit Words:  6303 Tags: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Mating Rituals, Werewolf Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Knotting, Scent Kink, Mating Bond, Outdoor Sex, Anal Sex, Comeplay, Art, Claiming, H/D Sex Fair 2020 Summary:  His mother paints a wolf on his chest, its eyes bracketing his heart, and its muzzle pointed towards his groin. His aunt fills in the spaces around his waist and ribs with symbols he's lost the meaning of in the wash of whatever plant had been mixed in with the steam. They move after her brush leaves his skin, turning from incomprehensible marks to his name to wolf to home to hunt and then back to misunderstanding again. His legs are painted in patterned bands, starting from his ankles and ending at his upper thighs. His groin is left unmarked, the pale and empty skin meant to leave no doubt of the Claim once he makes it. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Burning the Ground by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill), traintracks Rated:  Explicit Words:  10256 Tags: A/B/O-ish dynamic, Were-Creatures, Knotting, Rough Sex, Anal Sex, Bondage, Blow Jobs, sex on the floor, Rimming, Auror Harry Potter, Healer Draco Malfoy, Mildly Dubious Consent Summary:  "Strap him down," someone said, and Harry felt the rage thicken inside him -- the viscous fear. Magical bindings pulled taut around his wrists . . . He felt a wand touch his arm and then a sharp bite as something punctured the skin, and a sweet, cool tonic rushed his veins. His breathing slowed. His eyelids drooped. The ceiling went grey and dark. And then he heard a woman's voice sigh, "Someone, get Healer Malfoy." ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Omega's Binding by Madriddler Rated:  Explicit Words:  49405 Tags: Hogwarts Sixth Year, Alpha/Omega, Omega Harry, Werewolves, Knotting, Fluff and Angst, Anal Fingering, Size Kink, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Watersports, No Horcruxes Summary:  After a violent encounter, Harry Potter is turned into a werewolf. An Omega Werewolf, to be exact. Now dealing with heats and the ability to get pregnant, Harry must learn to live with his new forms and life, while a desire for revenge fuels him. Will he be able to resist his heat and vengeance? Or will he fall into an instinctual lust, and look for his Alpha? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Light More Beautiful by firethesound Rated:  Explicit Words:  81255 Tags: Hogwarts Sixth Year, Dubious Consent, Potions Accident, Post-Hogwarts, Aurors, Returning Home, Owls, Drinking, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Shower Sex, Masturbation in Shower, Knotting, Rimming, Falling In Love, Case Fic, Loss of Virginity, Acronyms, Motorcycles, Christmas, Quidditch, Pining Summary:  Thirteen years after Draco accepts Potter's help escaping the horror of his sixth year, he returns to England where he makes the unfortunate discovery that Potter is still as obnoxious as ever. And worse, more than a decade overseas hasn't been enough to dim Draco's obsession with him. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Run With Me by dragontara Rated:  Mature Words:  16738 Tags: Animagus, Creature Fic, Werewolf Draco, Animagus Harry, Bottom Draco, Bonding, Knotting, snarky Draco Summary:  Draco and Harry meet in the Forbidden Forest in their wolf forms falling fast and hard and eventually bonding with each other. Unfortunately bonding in their animal forms doesn't mean they are happily bonded straight away in a real life too. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Taro Milk Tea with a side of Depression by VeelaWings Rated:  Mature Words:  1073 Tags: Pre-Slash, Screenplay/Script Format, Conversations, Veela Draco Malfoy, Werewolf Harry Potter, Guidance Counselors, in therapy, Depression, Self-Hatred, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Morbid Humor, Inappropriate Behavior from a Professional, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020 Summary:  Draco sat through twenty grievous minutes of Ministry-mandated group therapy for Newly Registered Magical Beings & Creatures — then promptly stormed out. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Blood Moon Rising by noelleification Rated:  Mature Words:  38322 Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Werewolf Draco Malfoy, Wolfstar is canon, Sirius Black Lives, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit, Adoption, Slowburn Adoption, Drarry might happen at some point, idk - Freeform, Remus and Sirius adopt draco, Remus and Sirius as dads, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, So much angst, seriously get ready for angst, Abusive Lucius Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Harry Potter but it's ridiculously gay, Gay Draco Malfoy, Gay Disaster Draco Malfoy, Trans Hermione Granger, Because we don't support TERFS in this household, Yearning, Sirius and Remus are in love but it doesn't mean they're smart enough to know it yet, so get ready for them to pine for awhile, uhhhhhh just have tissues ready I guess, I'm gonna try my hardest to make you cry, You're gonna suffer..., But you're gonna be... happy about it?, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, traumatized Draco, Draco Malfoy Has Issues, Tonks is best girl, Tonks as lesbian wine aunt, Tonks has big sister vibes, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks Never Happened, Everyone is LGBT, because fuck jk rowling, Found Family, Whump, this shit hurted, Parental Remus Lupin, Parental Sirius Black, Torture, Aftermath of Torture, this shit gets dark yall, just be prepared Summary:  Draco Malfoy is cursed. Ever since Fenrir Greyback ripped him to shreds, Draco has transformed into a monster every month on the full moon. The change is painful, and living with Lucius Malfoy might be worse. But Draco is strong. He doesn’t need anyone, especially not Remus Lupin. Remus Lupin might be the only person in the world who understands what Draco is going through—but he has enough on his plate, between the still-raging wizarding war, the publicized nature of his status as a werewolf, and his best friend, Sirius Black, who Remus might think of in a more-than-friendly way. He certainly can’t take in a seventeen-year-old Death Eater—can he? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A Howling Good Time by FleetofShippyShips Rated:  Explicit Words:  5819 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Established Relationship, Werewolf Draco Malfoy, Full Moon, werewolf/human sex, Transformed Werewolf/Human Sex, Knotting, Consent Given Prior, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Morning After, Aftercare (delayed?), Scent Kink, Fluff, (hahaha both literal and emotional), Don't copy to another site, Come Scent Kink (i.e. some post-sex bum sniffing) Summary:  They’d talked about this, and Draco had agreed that he would try it for Harry, once Harry had convinced him he was utterly serious and not fucking with him. The timing, however, was entirely up to Harry, and he'd decided tonight, this full moon, was the night. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Am I a werewolf? by a_reader_and_writer Rated:  General Words:  1230 Tags: Werewolves, Curses, Drarropoly 2.0 - A Drarry Game/Fest, Dramatic Draco Malfoy, Boyfriends, Fluff and Crack Summary:  Draco is hit by the werewolf curse. The healers send him home and tell Harry and him to watch the symptoms. Of course this isn't as easy as it sounds with our drama queen Draco. ❤️ Read on AO3

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

What if the Animorphs could use magic-like, in addition to the morphing?

All her life, Cassie’s dad has treated raccoons and ferrets, the occasional goose or hawk.  And for as long as she can remember, he’s treated other things too.  There was the pine marten with tiny horns that the long-fingered man with the scars on his face brought from under his coat.  There’s the seahorse that buzzes up to their door on the regular, gossamer fins beating hummingbird-fast at the air as it hovers five feet off the ground.  There are winged foxes and antlered rabbits and animals for which Cassie has no comparison.

Walter never comments on them directly.  Instead he skids the Venetian blinds closed and pulls out his other kit — the one with bone needles and spools of spider silk and not a trace of metal throughout — and gets to work.  Cassie can’t remember how she learned never to comment directly on these night customers.  But she knows.  She does not mention them aloud.  Most of all, she does not thank them or ask for favors.

They never pay in coin, these visitors that step over the back threshold and never come when there is road salt on the ground.  It doesn’t matter.  Every stock share Walter and Michelle buy proves to be lucky; every item they store in the downstairs refrigerator never spoils.  Michelle can heal animals at the Gardens that no one else can save.  Cassie’s parents are careful never to ask for these gifts, or indeed express any opinion on them at all.  Their night visitors bargain exactingly, mercilessly, without quarter.  The only recourse is not to bargain with them at all.

Tobias doesn’t believe he’s a changeling.  Not really.  He’s pretty sure that’s just something his aunt says to excuse how little she cares about him.  That doesn’t stop him from leaving a capful of her Rodda’s clotted cream on his windowsill every night, especially because he wakes every morning to find the cream gone.  Just in case, he tells himself.  Just in case his real family is out there somewhere, keeping an eye on him.

Jake has no thoughts on magic or fae.  If asked he’d shrug and casually disbelieve.  But he listened all the same when his Grandpa G whispered the secret to controlling a golem, to making life of clay.  To destroying that life with a press of the thumb.

Marco learned not to count anything out he hasn’t seen disproven with his own eyes.  Eva lit candles for the Virgin Mother and for the ancestors, for Rihannon and Guabancex and the Holy Ghost.  Marco doesn’t always honor the old rituals, but he also doesn’t cross still waters or take favors from strangers.  He always cleans spilled salt and keeps a tiny iron knife tucked into one pocket.  He wears his underwear inside out and spits on the floor after wishing good luck.  He hedges his bets.

Rachel’s heard of the old gods, of course she has.  They were the fascination of her entire primary school year for a full week, just after unicorns and slightly before everyone became silly amateur witches.

Andalite culture frowns on superstition, and so Ax does as well.  Outwardly, at least.  That means not telling anyone how thoroughly, how casually, Elfangor has always believed in magic.  It means not thinking of the still pool of water, the silver knife, the other scrying tools from eldritch andalite culture… and the way his brother would, just sometimes, know things it was surely impossible for anyone to have seen.

“I put no faith in magic,” Marco says, when Cassie tells them about her dreams.  “I don’t trust it, and neither should you.”

«Fine, then.»  Tobias glares at him.  «Explain how we had the same dream, about the same voice, every single night.  Go ahead.  We’re waiting.»

Andalite magic isn’t like Earth magic, they’ll come to learn.  And sometimes the magic and technology are hard to tell apart at a glance.

It was just a long-distance call, Ax insists when they find him.  He doesn’t know how they talked to a whale.  He can’t explain why Tobias, but not any of the others, would have received that call.  Surely it doesn’t mean anything.  Technology only looks like magic, when viewed from a distance.

Tobias sees the rabbit disappear when it enters the unnaturally round circle of mushrooms.  But he’s hungry, and he’s tired, and the rabbit is fat and white and moving slow.  He doesn’t pull up from the dive in time.  Instead he follows it inside—

And hits the ground on two stubby-toed feet, strong human arms thrown out for balance.  He’s naked, but that seems incidental.  He’s human.  He hasn’t been human for almost six months.

Mostly human.  There are feathers on his arms and along his back.  He sees through hawk eyes and hears with hawk ears, a raptor’s head on top of a human body.  He thinks of ancient Egypt, of that god with the ankh, when he imagines how he must look.

And then he staggers back several steps, all the way to the edge of the suddenly-vast circle of mushrooms, at the sight of the beings who approach.  Their leader is a tall man made even taller by the enormous antlers that sprout from his head.  Behind him walk trees who are also teenage girls, goats upright on two legs, an entire court of half-human half-other beings.

Tobias’s whole body is cold with fear.  He tries to fly, but his wings cannot lift heavy human bones.  Tries to speak, and a hawk’s harsh cry comes out of his mouth.

“Come, little hunter,” the king who is both stag and man says.  “Dance with us.”

«What will you give me if I do?» Tobias asks, finding a different voice.  A stupid and brave thing to say.

The king smiles.  “An answer to one question.”

Tobias doesn’t ask what’ll happen if he refuses.  He’s no fool.  So when they start to dance, he joins the flow of their bodies.

His body moves with grace and speed impossible to him.  There is no music, other than the endless eerie wails of the other dancers.  The dance rages around him, drags him down into dizzy undertow.  He can either keep up, or he can be crushed underfoot.  Those are the only options.  He dances.

It’s been no time at all.  It’s been years.  Exhaustion sets in.  Hunger.  Thirst.

But Tobias is no fool.  He refuses their cordials and fruits, their temptations of hide and bone.  The glistening pomegranates and airy cakes are easy to ignore.  The fresh-killed snake, the blood-warm fox… Those are much harder.

Once, they bring before him a plump, struggling rabbit.  It’s enormous, fat and juicy and still kicking, and he feels himself weaken.  But just before he swings his enormous beak forward to rip at the flesh, he catches a hint of its true reflection in the eyes of the river-maiden who holds it.

It’s not a rabbit.  It has the seeming of a rabbit, but even now he can hear its cries.  Close to rabbit cries, close… but not quite.

Tobias rears back.  He doesn’t see what happens to the not-a-rabbit, because he chooses not to.  And it’s easier after that, so much easier, to refuse the haunches and marrows that they try to pass his way.

Maybe that’s why they throw the net over him.  Darkness and pain cage him in.  His inner hawk panics, screaming and breaking bones against its sides.  But a half-remembered bit of lore surges to the front of his human mind.

He morphs.  Speed is of the essence, and he twists down to the shape of a garter snake he has never acquired.  The net tightens, so he grows large.  Becomes one of the hork-bajir that haunt his nightmares, with blades to slash the net.  So it becomes sticky and dense, and he becomes a spider who can scuttle along its lines.  It grows heavy enough to crush him, so he surges upward and out as a stegosaurus.  It ensnares him with clever knots, and he grows human fingers that he might untie them.  It weights him down, so he goes hawk to fly free.  It becomes fibers that abrade and embed, so he takes on andalite shape to slash the bindings to pieces.

After that, the net falls away.  He stares around the clearing in all four directions at once, seeing them now for what they really are.  His chest is heaving, his tail blade trembling.  He’s desperately tired, but here is no place to sleep.

The woman whose hair drags clear the ground steps forward.  She presses a hand against his cheek, and just like that he’s the human-hawk again.  Only the andalite stalk eyes remain, along with the taloned feet of a hork-bajir.  The world around him remains vicious and savage and beautiful.

“You have entertained us well, little changeling,” she says.  “You may go now.”

«Wait—»  Tobias knows it’s stupid to argue, but he also knows it’s even stupider to leave here with a bargain unresolved.  «My question.»  He takes a breath, filling human lungs nestled between andalite hearts.  «What am I?»

The woman laughs, a tinkling sound that fills the clearing.  “My dear boy, there’s no need to ask us directly, not after we just spent all evening answering you.”

And just like that, Tobias is a hawk.  Or something with the seeming of a hawk.  He sits on the ground just outside an ordinary circle of mushrooms, the rabbit he followed mere inches away.

He watches it leave.  He’s not hungry for rabbit anymore, and suspects he might never be again.

Little changeling, she called him.  And he cannot help but wonder what might’ve become of the boy he replaced, remembering the not-a-rabbit’s helpless cries.

“Fuck it,” Marco says.  Only it comes out like “f-f-f-f-f-fuck i-t-t-t-t” because his teeth are chattering so hard.  They ended up somewhere covered with ice and snow and devoid of life except for polar bears.  No.  Scratch that.  They’re nowhere.  This place might as well be the surface of the fucking moon.

Which is why he’s gone just crazy enough through some combination of hypothermia and desperation to be trying this now.  His fingertips and toes are already grey-white with frostbite at the edges.  Ax is upright for now, but has already collapsed twice.  They’re fucked.  Utterly and completely fucked.

Unless, of course, Marco can coax fire from ice.

The theory behind it is perfectly sound.  Take a beam of sunlight, direct it through a curved lens — in this case a chunk of ice floe that Ax carved with his tail and Marco shaped with what little heat is left in his hands — and that’ll generate heat.  Generate enough heat, and the kindling should ignite.

Only, if you stop to think about it for half a second, that’ll never work in an environment as cold as this one.  If Marco stops to think, he’ll remember that the tiny pile of kindling will burn up in an instant if it even combusts at all.

The kindling is a pile of hair, blond and brown, black and blue.  And a single crumpled feather, striped in brown and gold.  A small, sad pile.  But also: A sacrifice.  An evocation.

It shouldn’t work.  It shouldn’t.

Cassie is murmuring something that Marco elects to ignore.  Because Marco doesn’t believe in astrotheology.  He doesn’t believe in pyromancy.  He just needs to believe in reality.

The sun’s own light casts through the fragment of glacier in his hand.  The concentrated seed of its power rests squarely in that nest of hair.  Don’t move, Marco wills his aching, cold-numb hands.  Don’t move.  Focus.  Breathe.  Don’t move.  Believe.

Smoke curls.  Jake makes a noise, cutting himself off.  Marco imagines his own mind, focusing in a beam just like that weak Arctic sunlight.  Imagines it bending into a pure, strong core with the power of that ice.  The world fades away.  The cold recedes, or maybe that’s just the final stages of hypothermia setting in.

The hair puts up a tiny curl of flame.  The flame gutters and grows.  It races along strand after strand.  The smell is something animal and awful, but the fire is growing.  It’s becoming red at the edge and blue at its core, hotter than the meager fuel should allow.  Marco’s teeth are clenched so hard they cannot chatter, his whole body clenched around where the dying skin of his hands presses with unforgiving power against the ice that kills it.

The flame grows.  It grows.  It’s not possible, and that very fact seems to add strength to its stubbornness.

It’s candle-sized by now.  It could illuminate a lantern.  It’s throwing shadows and glow onto Cassie’s face where she crouches across from him, still chanting.  It’s a fistful of flame.  It’s a campfire.

The hair is gone by now.  Even the ice is melting away, every drop of water that hits the flames becoming like oil in its power.

Marco sits down, hard, on the now-slushy ice.  Jake is leaning forward, laughing, crying, tears frozen to his face.  Rachel thrusts both hands at the flames, fingers starting to unfurl from their painful permanent clench.  Even the frostbite on Cassie’s nose and Ax’s stalk-eyes is visibly healing, another impossibility even with the hearthfire now flowing strong between them.

“This,” Marco whispers, sunning himself in the heat of cannot-be, “is insane.”

Cassie steps out into the daylight beyond the barn, half-startled as always by the shock of its heat.  She isn’t like Marco; she doesn’t need explanations or words.  Her father has always just focused on using whatever works, without trying to apply her mother’s formal empiricism.  Sometimes the creatures bring themselves in for healing, and usually when they do they don’t look like any animal that has ever appeared in one of Michelle’s zoology textbooks.

Sometimes Walter sits out all night with a deer’s head cradled in his lap, a snake wound through both his hands, or one of the beings who is neither mammal nor reptile sheltered by the curve of his body.  He wills, on those nights, and sometimes a broken-legged deer will run free or a fatally ill snake will roll healthy from his palms when he’s done.  Whenever that happens, whenever the will succeeds, he’ll come inside with a few more white hairs, slightly more of a limp in the creeping arthritis of his knee.  That’s the reason Cassie isn’t allowed to join her father on those nights, isn’t allowed to help beyond her mother’s methods: needles full of cortisone, needles trailing twine.

It’s also the reason she doesn’t know how this works.  She suspects that her father doesn’t know either — Walter’s the type to shrug and say they can either explain the molecular structure of water or they can fill this water trough that’s empty now, and only one will ensure the horses remain healthy on a day this warm.  So maybe not knowing isn’t a hindrance, not when it comes to willing wellness to travel from her body into another.

The being she holds in her hands has certainly never appeared in any of Michelle’s books.  Which is part of the reason that Earth’s weak yellow sun, giver of both cancer and trees, can do nothing for her.

Aftran needs kandrona, needs the rich light of her homeworld.  Cassie has no kandrona to give.

“Please,” Cassie whispers.  She holds the fragile little body toward the sky, an offering to Sol.  “Please, just hold on for a little while longer.”

Aftran doesn’t answer.  Aftran cannot hear her, cannot see the brilliant star that warms them both.

Cassie can feel the weakness inside of Aftran, the hunger.  Tonight they’ll take her to the sea.  Tonight they’ll give her whale DNA, and a new chance at life.  She only has to make it that long.

She’s not sure when the trance begins, or how long it lasts.  Later, she’ll have no memory of her knees giving out and her shins hitting the dirt, or of the hours she spends with her hands raised toward the sky in supplication.

It’s Aftran who wakes her.  Aftran who sends a jolt of something through the connection they’ve shared ever since their minds were briefly one.  It jars Cassie and causes her to topple over.

Aftran is strong, scrunching and stretching fins as she basks in the glow of a sun she shouldn’t even be able to see or feel.  Cassie is weak, joint-aching and head-pounding as she fights unconsciousness.  The feeling is so overpowering, so painful and unlike anything she’s experienced before, that it takes Cassie several seconds of lying on her side fighting even to breathe to recognize this as hunger.

Not hunger, famine.  The dangerous kind that leaves her body screaming for sustenance, devouring its own fats and muscles in its desperation to find more fuel for the fire that keeps her alive.  Cassie has grown up secure, with a full refrigerator and loving parents.  This ravening full-body ache brings to mind her great-grandmother’s stories of sharecroppers so desperate as to devour earthworms and hay seeds.

But Cassie has it easy.  She is on her own planet, and she is a child of plenty.  All she needs to do is crawl the ten feet to her parents’ vegetable patch.  To rip the first of the row of carrots from the ground, rolling the dirt off between her palms before she eats it.  Stealing the sun’s sustenance from this plant that has worked so hard to store it.

She is human.  She cannot make her own energy from suns’ light like Aftran.  To be human is to murder and devour just to stay alive.  But to be human is to choose, at times like these, to share the plenty that surrounds her.

Aftran rests on the back of Cassie’s wrist now.  Stronger than she has any right to be.  Cassie rips the life from another carrot, and stops for a moment of gratitude before she begins to devour.

Rachel takes time to gather the supplies.  A mason jar emptied of jam.  Nails and tacks and razor blades, sharp nasty iron and steel to keep evil at bay.  Sea salt and rosemary to purify and protect, layered inside the jar overtop.  And then, last of all, several ounces of her own urine.  To mark it as hers, old-school the way that wolves do.  The lid sealed with wax from a black-tallow candle, wrapped with red ribbon to keep the magic inside.  She buries it at the edge of her yard, whispering invocations to Aphrodite and Ares as she does.

She can’t take it with her, especially not when she morphs, but she can create a bubble the length and width of the property.  She can carve out a space for herself and her mom, Sara and Jordan, that no yeerk can enter.  She has power.

She tests it one time, calling Mr. Chapman to come pick up Melissa at her place.  Smiling, lips pulled tight with glee and anger, she watches him get to the edge of the property line and… stop.  

Watches as his head shakes, his body shifts, and he comes no further.  The spell holds.  The yeerk leaves.

And then comes the day when Melissa herself freezes at the edge of the yard, an expression of confusion on her face.  She leaves, after a while.  Only it’s not really her leaving.  Not anymore.

Rachel doesn’t feel so smug about the spell, after that.

«Please be quiet,» Ax says, after the fourth or fifth time Jake asks Cassie in an undertone how much longer this is going to take.  «I am not confident in this process, and cannot do with distractions.»

They stand at the edge of a waterfall deep in the California woods.  It’s not much, less than ten feet tall, but that’s not what’s important.  What’s important is the place, and the harmony of that place.

What’s important, Ax knows, is the entropy.  Water eroding rocks, breaking down walls.  Trees broken apart by murmurations of termites and fractals of rot.  Nature building and pulling down, creating and destroying, allowing no rest but in rhythmical motion, chasing everything out of one beautiful form into another.

Entropy is a release of cosmic energy.  That’s what Elfangor taught him, anyway.  And if he does it right, if he feels this place — water in his hooves, wind in his fur, seeing and feeling and becoming a part of that steady joyous death — he can harness and direct some small fraction of that energy.

The energy flows out of him, and down the bond.  He thinks he can feel it.  His strength becoming Tobias’s, Tobias’s pain becoming his.

“Is it working?”  Jake loses patience again.

«I believe it might be,» Ax says.  He reaches out, all four eyes closed, and takes Jake’s hand in his.  A second human hand, strong and blunt and warm, wraps around his other wrist, as Cassie takes hold.

His shorm is not here.  His only family on this planet is in the yeerks’ hands.  They are hurting Tobias right now.

Rachel and Marco are on a rescue mission.  Jake and Cassie and Ax are here, having walked for hours in the wrong direction, standing by a destructive stream.  Keeping Tobias alive.

Jake sinks to his knees, gasping hard.  Cassie is making a small noise in the back of her throat, one that has no words.  Their strength flows through Ax, and away.  The power in their joints, the sight in their eyes and the succor in their limbs, drains away.  Every heartbeat, every breath, leaves them and does not return.

No one asks if it’s working now.  There are tears running down Jake’s face, his hand trembling in Ax’s as it squeezes hard enough to grind bones.  But they don’t let go, and they don’t end the spell.  They send strength down the bloodline, down the lines more powerful than blood, until one by one they fall into the icy current when they have nothing left to give.

“I don’t believe in magic,” Marco says, but he uses the same tone as when he says “I don’t believe in aliens.”

Cassie asks her father, her grandmother, and her mother’s grandmother more questions.  She pretends it’s idle curiosity, any time her father asks.

Rachel finds that coven she once thought so silly.  They teach her to write names on willow-pulp paper and freeze them underwater, to drag minds away from the forces that might otherwise take hold.  “Melissa,” she whispers, “Melissa Andrea Chapman,” and she prays it will work this time around.

Anyway, they kind of win.

The first person to appear to him is an unfamiliar woman with rough-cropped hair.  No one Jake knows, or no one he remembers, anyway.  But she wasn’t on the dead, drifting hulk of the Rachel a second ago, and now here she stands.  So the ritual must have worked.

“I’m sorry to disturb your rest,” Jake tells the ghost.  “I just…”  He looks down at the drying clay still smeared across his hands, the familiar characters in cascading rows across his arms and across the metal of the deck.  It’s earth, farther from the Earth than any precious quantity of dirt has ever been.  Just like him.

“I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t choose it.”  She crouches in front of him, placing an inexplicably warm hand over his.  “I’m Jondrette.  You saved my life at the battle under the garment factory.  You should’ve killed us.  Instead you called off your forces, told us to run.”

“You died anyway,” Jake says sadly.  “You owe me nothing.”

“Not before I returned the favor.”  She smirks, proud of herself.  “Visser Three would’ve killed you in that hospital garage, had we not shot him from behind.  I owe you nothing,” she agrees.  “Because you’re going to die anyway.”

“I’m scared,” he confesses.

The Blade Ship, and the thing it became, are gone.  He rammed it.  Shattered shrapnel floats past through the Rachel’s failing gravity.  He won, and all it cost was everything.

“I don’t think I want to die anymore, but…”  Jake laughs, harsher than expected.  There’s no one to lead here, no one to impress.  “It’s a little late for that now, huh?”

«It’s all right to be scared,» Elfangor says, when he appears.  «You’ve done well.»  He looks andalite and human, standing guard over Jake’s death as Jake once did for him.

Jake nods, and Elfangor returns it as a bow.

«You’ve honored us all, and it was an honor to serve with you, my prince.»

This new ghost causes Jake to surge several inches off the deck in horror before he falls back, lacking the strength to stand even in this reduced gravity.  “Ax,” Jake gasps.  “Ax… No.  You?”

«It’s all right,» Ax says.  «You killed it.  You honored me.  The ritual of mourning is complete.»

“I wanted to save you,” Jake whispers.

«And you did.  Rest, Prince Jake.»

«You were feared by your enemies, beloved by your cousins.  No higher praise can be spoken of any warrior.»  Arbron, when he appears, is the same strange duality as Elfangor: all andalite and all taxxon, all at once.

Jake wonders if it’s a nothlit thing, if Tobias…

No.  Tobias and Marco, Jeanne and Menderash and Santorelli, all made the escape pod in time before the collision.  Jake has to believe that.  He has to.

«Rest,» Ax says again.  «It’s time.»

“He’s right, you know,” a new voice says, and for the first time Jake feels his eyes prick with tears.  “It’s the easiest thing in the world, once you let yourself go.”

A familiar arm slips around him, and Jake lets himself lean against his brother’s shoulder.  “You’ll stay with me?” Jake asks, hating the weakness in his own voice.  “You’ll stay?”  He doesn’t know how long he can keep up the ritual.

“‘Course,” Tom says.  “No getting rid of me now.”

The specter shapes crowd the room by now, crouching close or standing by.  All here, if Jondrette is to be believed, because they chose to be.

It’s harder to breathe, now.  Harder to see, darkness blurring his vision.  Tom is warm against his side, but Jake is bitterly cold.

“I don’t want it to end,” Jake slurs.  Falling asleep never hurt this much, and the dreams that awaited him on the other side were rarely kind.

“It doesn’t.”  She’s already grinning when she appears in front of him, like this is the greatest daredevil stunt ever pulled.  “We go on.”  Rachel gestures around to the crowd on the bridge.  “Aren’t all of us proof of that?  Nothing is ever lost.”

“Go on to where?” Jake can’t help asking.

At that she laughs.  “Like I’d spoil the surprise.  C’mon, I’ll show you.  Let’s do it.”

She grabs his hand and yanks him forward.  Or maybe that’s Tom, shoving him from behind.  Or Ax’s smile, eyes only, pulling him in.

A small strand of space-time goes dark and coils into nothingness.

[magaprima]

Part 2 Episode 7 Episode Analysis 3/?

Okay, the ‘birthing’ scene. First off, the runes scrawled in blood on the wall are all runes related to life and power etc, so I just really enjoy when this show, even though it’s fantasy, use real life magic and ritual information and weave it into their own mythology. I’ve said before about how Pagans and practitioners do work on the show, and I think it’s moments like these when you can most see their influence. 

Also can we appreciate not only all the tealight candles that Lilith has lit for this spell/ritual, but also the fact Mary’s bathroom has lots of little drawers and even a wee ornate table with a lamp on. I think we, as a show, don’t focus very much on the fact that Mary clearly has a sense of style, both in her house (as we clearly see from our time in the cottage) and a real sense of fashion (as we see from the clothes Lilith takes out of her wardrobe), and the tragedy is, despite the clothes she has, she herself only ever seems to have the confidence to wear the things that cover her up the most and hide her shape. My dark thoughts take this, and the fact she was a virgin, and wonder if her lack of sexual intimacy and covering her shape up and not letting her hair down literally and metaphorically, is more to do with past experiences, but I digress. Back to the scene

This is very obviously meant to be a very blatant parallel to a real, ordinary, mortal birth. The noises we hear, which are the sounds of Lilith rummaging around in her own body in order to pull out a rib, are very similar to the sounds of a baby being birthed. Apologies, if you’re now all hearing the slimy sound in your head. Also the blood everywhere, admittedly purposefully put there by Lilith, is a parallel to the blood and erm, fluids, everywhere in a birthing room. We’re being told very clearly that Lilith isn’t just creating this monster, she’s birthing it. The fact she’s also on her knees, legs apart, bent over the bathtub, is as close as they can get her to a literal birthing position that makes sense, giving that she’s not physically giving birth. You don’t have to work very hard to spot all the parallels in this scene. Her cries of pain as she pulls at the rib are also alike to a woman crying out during labour the final yell as it comes out, the bloodied hands holding the rib are like the hands holding the bloodied baby. And again, we have the bath tub which is a common place for giving birth (sometimes accidentally in a literal bath and not a birthing one), and then when she places the rib into the chest of the monster, we hear the heartbeat, the first thuds of a heartbeat, just as you’d hear the heartbeat and cries of a newborn baby.

This is very clearly a birth. And, as we know she’s the Mother of Demons, and therefore has birthed other demonic children (Batibat included within the show mythology), we’re being shown here that that hasn’t been easy. She hasn’t ever carried a child in her womb, no, but that doesn’t mean she’s been able to create her children easily, that it hasn’t been less painful. We’re also seeing that she has to give something to birth these demons, int this case it’s a physical piece of herself; her rib, but I imagine what she can give can vary in nature and in size. It takes from her, regardless, so I imagine, it’s not something she does lightly or frequently (in her real life mythology, she’s considered a Queen and Mother of Demons, because yes she mothered many, but then they had their own demonic children, so by generational ancestry she’s the ‘mother’ of thousands and thousands, rather than literally having them herself, so I imagine it’s the same in CAOS considering we haven’t had her children popping up left right and centre). It also requires a ‘Father’, or at least a second parent (whether it has to be a man is left open to interpretation, considering actual sex isn’t required) and they in turn have to give something. With mortals, obviously the only thing they can give of any power is their life force-- in this case, given via blood. But I imagine if other demons and magical creatures are the Fathers, they could ‘contribute’ with the same variety Lilith can. 

It makes you wonder who she has created creatures with, and whether this is part of the reason, Beelezebub alls her ‘Lucifer’s Whore’ (I want to punch him every time he says that). I mean, one of the Infernal ‘Kings’ is Asmodeus, and Lilith’s mythology often has her married to him, at least for a time, and they do have demonic bairns together so.....is he one of the ‘Father’s in CAOS? 

[minimin1993]

B/L 33 & S/M 40

Warning: FINALLY BUCKLIN!!!! Angst. More past revealed. Triggering past.

The ritual was prepared inside a secluded cave within Wakanda where T-Challa had dedicated for the pair. 

“Are you ready pal?” Steve asks helping Bucky wrap up his left shoulder with the blue fabric. 

“More than life itself.” Bucky said with a smile on face. 

“The two of you have been through so much heartache. I am so happy for you both to have this. Now let get going, it's not nice to leave a dame waiting.” Steve joked making Bucky nudge him lightly. 

“Punk” 

“Jerk” 

After that Steve walks Bucky to the cave. 

“Well this is where I drop you off, I will see you guys tomorrow.” Steve bids goodbye before walking away. 

Bucky lifts the vine leaves covering the cave entrance walking in to see the pathway line with candle light walking all the way back. The moment he caught sight of Luna his breath hitched. She was dressed in a long flowy white robe contrasting to her long black braided hair. 

“You came my love.” Luna said turning around to look at him. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” He said approaching her holding on to her hand. “I wish I had both my arms right now.” 

“We think your perfect the way you are.” Luna said, and Bucky swears he saw her black eyes flash back to her normal eye color. “You ready to start?” 

“Always my love.” 

“This is a crystal from a fountain of Soul Bind back on Asgard, with this crystal we will be able to bind our souls together for eternity. Once the ritual is complete and a success the crystal will shine brightly, if it fails the Crystal will shatter and pain will follow.” Luna explains looking at the Crystal

“It won’t fail.” Bucky said tilting her chin up to look at him. 

“I love you James.” Luna said before guiding him to the center where the circle has already been drawn. 

“I love you too.” 

“You remember what you have to say?” Luna asks causing him to smile. 

“Of course.” He said before starting the ritual. Luna cuffs the crystal with both her hands as Bucky puts his over hers engulfing the crystal. 

"We are two souls, two minds, travelling down life's road. It has come to us to be closer than most. Allow me to travel with you as I allow you to travel with me. Mind, body, soul, all are as one. We are two souls destined to act as one. Travel with me; be my guide as I shall be yours. Let us not be two but one reflection of each other; one mind, two souls, moving closer, ever closer, never to part. We are two acting as one. Allow your shields to lower as I allow mine to go down for you.” They started to say in unison as the crystal in their hand shine the brightest Luna has ever seen. As they continue the words Bucky sees how Luna eyes is slowly flickering back and forth to her normal eye color as Linda voice slowly but surely comes through next to Luna almost like 3 people are speaking together. 

“We promise to be with each other for as long as you will have me. To love one another and be each other guide when the other is lost.” “I, James Buchanan Barnes.” “And I, Luna Raforkun and Linda Grey.” completes this ritual to solidify our bond.” Linda/Luna turns her hands over to let Bucky hold the Crystal as she pulls the knife from the ledge and slice a palm of her hand before dropping a few drops of her blood on the crystal. She holds a hand out for Bucky to hand her the crystal before grabbing the knife from her other hand to place in his mouth slicing his own palm doing the same as a flash of light shines throughout the cave 

“It worked.” Linda/Luna smiles brightly looking around the cave.

“Of course it would.” Bucky said dropping the knife feeling a sudden rush of happiness ran through him. “Was that?” 

“Mmhmm, like I said whatever I feel you feel and vice versa.” She said grabbing his hand walking him toward the area where they will finish the ritual. 

“I love you James.” Linda/Luna said dropping the robe she has on on the floor. 

“I love you too Linda.” Bucky said grabbing the end of the rope on the bow and pulled dropping the dress to the floor leaving her naked. The night ritual was filled with expressed love for each other mentally and spiritually as they feel each other pleasure enhancing the love making to a new extreme for them.

 “Are you sure you want to go out today?” Sebastian said since this will be the first time Min goes back into public after the incident. 

“Yes, I miss going to the rocks on El Matador State Beach. Please!! Pretty please!!” Min pouted begging having Sebastian chuckle at her antics. 

“God, I can never say no to that face.” He said as they got ready to go out to the car driving to her favorite spot. 

“Wowww, how I miss this place.” Min said twirling in the nice sun on the sand with Sebastian trailing behind her with his hands in his pocket. 

“Yeah I gotta say, nothing more relaxing than the quiet waves hitting the rocks.” He said hugging her from behind as the watch the ocean. 

“Now you are starting to see it from my perspective.” Min said turning around in his arms throwing hers over his shoulder pulling him down into a kiss. 

“Thank you for being here with me Sebastian.” 

“Like I told you before there is no other place I would rather be.” He said as they walked along the shoreline hand in hand. “How are you feeling so far?” 

“Good, great actually.” Min said before she stopped in her spot backing away slowly. 

“Princess what's wrong?” Sebastian said looking at her pale face. 

“Trinity is that you?” An older asian couple walked up to them with a shocked look on their face. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Come on Sebastian, lets leave.” Min said tightening her hand around Sebastian pulling him away from the couple. 

“Oh my god, it is you… We been looking for you everywhere.” The women said grabbing her shoulder trying to stop her. 

“Mam I think you got the wrong person.” Sebastian said kindly to the woman who looks very familiar.

“No, I think I would know who my own daughter is.” She said shocking Sebastian who was looking at the woman back to Min who has a very close resemblance. 

“You got the wrong person. My name is Min.” Min said not wanting to look at the couple.

“You might change your name and moved away doesn’t mean you are not our daughter Trinity.” The man said sternly making Min snap. 

“My name is MinYoung Tudor, you got the wrong person.” Min said gritting her teeth together showing such fury Sebastian hasn’t seen on her before. “Now leave me alone.” 

“Trinity please we miss you so much, everyone asks about you all the time. Please just come home.” The woman practically begs making Min scoff.  

“Yeah you guys miss me, is that before or after the money and fame rolled in huh. Now you guys want to come back into my life and sink your claws in. Last time I check you guys left me! Shunned me out when I needed you most, you guys were so ashamed of me to the point where you signed your custody over to the Hwangs without blinking an eye. I fucken hate you guys! So for the last time my name is MinYoung. Your daughter Trinity had died the day you guys disowned her.” Min spat shocking Sebastian. 

“Young lady that is not how you speak to your own parents.” The man said making Min laugh. 

“You guys may have been the one to give birth to me but legally I belong with the Hwangs. Now I suggest you leave me alone before I involve the police.” Min said walking away from the older couple with Sebastian. 

They got into their car and drove home, the moment they stepped inside her house she hugged Sebastian tightly and cried. Sebastian just stood there holding his girl trying to soothe her letting her cry it out.

"Come on princess let's head to bed." He said lifting her up in his arms and carries her to her room both settling down in bed. She cried until her heart contents before drifting off to sleep. 

By the time Sebastian wakes up her notices Min was not beside him. 

"Princess?" He calls out jumping out of bed looking for her only to find her downstairs in her living room watching something on the TV while hugging her knees tightly. Sebastian walks over and sits next to her pulling her onto his shoulder seeing an old video of a little girl in an Ice Skating competition. Sebastian has a feeling of what he was watching until he saw the girl do a high jump and landed wrong and she clutches her ankle crying before he recognized the man in the video yelling at her. 

“Pathetic, girls your age can do that jump higher than you. You failed Trinity. Lost. Is that what you want to be a loser?” The man spat as the little girl cries shaking her head no. “Exactly now go back in there and do it again, I didn’t raise no loser.” The video continues to the little girl limping her way back up and tries to ice skating again but couldn’t and falls again clutching her ankle again.

“Thats me right before the first incident.” Min whispered quietly. “We were doing tons of competitions and I always place 1st place. I was deemed as my father’s star pupil until that incident. That spin put me down for months, my father was pissed but there was nothing he could do about a broken ankle. Then just my luck I was raped by one stalker fan, I remember that night. My family was doing a family gathering for July 4th celebration. After I ate I didn't feel very good so I went to the bathroom to puke only to be followed. Turned out I was drugged, I kept fighting him to stop but I couldn't move my limbs at all, all I remember was the pain. You know who found me that night? My sorry excuse of parents, my clothes were ripped, blood all over my lower half and the man semen was all over me. The moment they saw me, my father started to yell at me saying it was my fault I got raped, that I couldn’t defend myself to what a disgrace I have become to the family. No one will love me now that I lost my virginity. It got worse after I got out of the hospital, they would beat me every chance they saw fit. Until Tiffany's dad found out, he almost beat my father up that day. A week later my family practically couldn’t wait to sign me away to the Hwangs and they did their best to help me through everything. I couldn’t even stand my own name. God I hate that name, Trinity Lam.” Min finally opened up about her family to Sebastian as tears ran down her face. 

“Princess…” 

“I really don’t deserve you Sebastian, I am fucked up mentally and physically. I am tainted, you deserve someone be…..” Min rambled on but he cut her off with a kiss that took her breath away.  

“Princess, I love you so much, never forget that. No one deserves to go through what you went through, but you never let that stop you from living your life. Look around you and see what you achieved. I am so fucken proud of you, you have no idea.” 

“Sebastian…” 

“No Princess. No matter what happens I will never leave you do you not understand that?” Sebastian said seeing her look down to her feet.  “If not, I am going to take my time showing you just how much I love you.” He said lowering her down to the couch spending the rest of the night making love to her until the sun comes off the next day.

[thenightling]

“Virgin blood” (in magick) does NOT mean “Blood never used in another ritual.”  (Research is your friend!)

AGGBHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

What started as a semi-joking post about something asked to me about Neil Gaiman’s Sandman has lead to a genuine headache.

Someone replied with “Actually virgin blood means blood that hasn’t been used in any other ritual.” 

No!  No. And no.  That’s bullshit an idiot said on Tumblr on an unfortunately all-too wide spread post and unfortunately as it circulated online NO ONE bothered to check if she was right.  When I asked her about her spreading misinformation I got a “I was only joking” response and I tried to warn her that there were people who took her reply seriously and it was spreading in occult circles but she just laughed it off.  And now somehow I’m getting “Actually” magicksplaining bullshit responses of “virgin blood really means blood never used in any other ritual”

1.  Many Grimoires were written in the fifteenth century.  This includes The Black Raven or The Trifold-coercion of Hell by Johann Georg Faustus AKA Faust.  Yes, the real Doktor Faust.  There was also The Key of Solomon, whose oldest manuscript (currently in The British Museum) dates back to the fifteenth century and was translated into English by Samuel Liddell MacGregor Mathers of The Hermetic Order of The Golden Dawn.  He left out some of the darker spells that he considered dangerous, which thanks to pushing from Aleister Crowley, got published later as the Lesser Key of Solomon.   

Mathers was a founding member of The Hermetic Order of The Golden Dawn.  Ironically the Hermetic Order of The Golden Dawn had a LOT to say about the uses of blood in magick.   

My point is the grimoires of the fifteenth century were very literal in the use of the word “virgin” mostly due to the cultural views of “cleanliness” and “purity” of a virgin (particularly women.).  There were even spells that called for virginal horses (such as old Eastern European methods of finding a vampire’s grave which called for a white horse that has never mated).  

Authors such as Faustus were from very Catholic cultures were physical virginity was held in extremely high regard.   Our culture may have moved past that stance but that doesn’t change the intended meaning in those old Grimoires.  

2.  I am amazed at how many people take the “blood not used in any other ritual” to heart without actually thinking about one simple fact... blood doesn’t survive that long out of the body.  It doesn’t just become useless for transfusions.  It putrefies quickly.  Imagine if a spell called for “Virgin milk” in a hot location that has no method of refrigeration.  Anything that isn’t “virgin” is cottage cheese.   Same with blood.  You’d be conducting rituals with brown, hardened scabs... 

Do you not know how long the shelf-life of human blood is?  Even with modern hospital preservation techniques the shelf-life is only six weeks. You’re not going to be using the same blood for multiple spells, it doesn’t even stay liquid that long without preservatives. It doesn’t last long.  

This isn’t like Roger Corman’s The Raven where you can find a jar of “powdered instant blood” in your father’s closet.  Blood doesn’t last long enough for multiple rituals. It congeals, it coagulates.  

You literally can’t use blood for more than one ritual.   Basic thaumaturgy, kids!   It’s not like the movies.  Blood doesn’t last long outside of the body.  That’s why there are so many blood drives.  Even with modern preservation methods blood doesn’t last very long. 

Blood is simply not viable for multiple spells and rituals.    

3.   Pick up a Grimoire from before 2007 and you’ll find phrases like “Blood from a maiden who has never laid with a man.”  not virgin blood meaning the same as virgin olive oil!  Sometimes it’s as blunt as to say “Blood from one who has never copulated.”  

A Sandman related joke should NOT have lead to me wanting to rip my hair out this morning because of wanna-be witches who have never touched a real Grimoire trusting a widespread meme as fact and never questioning that human blood doesn’t actually last long enough for multiple rituals!

Virgin blood does not have the same meaning as virgin cocktail or virgin olive oil.   And no, it does not mean “blood with no alcohol added to it” either.  

There’s even a reddit post about this but fortunately logic seems to prevail there with someone pointing out the historical / religious significance of sexual virginity. And that “virgin” to mean “unused” before is not exactly common English, especially for older Grimoires...    

 If a fifteenth century spell says “virgin” it means virgin by the more popular and Catholic-esque meaning.

Do any of you know what the main ingredient of the Philosopher’s stone was supposed to have been and why it’s usually depicted as red?  It’s something they’ll never bring up in the Harry Potter films or books.  Menstrual blood of a whore.  They did not mean “Menstrual blood used in many spells.”   They meant something very, very, different.

[madam-lit-nerd]

I Dream of Cassie

Ok, but a modern-day genie story, where Dean is the poor sap who ends up with the genie’s lamp.

He’s just some random college student who’s overworked and underpaid and completing an internship on top of a full load of classes. He’s barely holding his shit together, but he just has one more semester left, and he’s in the clear…when he’ll have to get a job to start paying off his student loans. Whoopee.

And then one day, he somehow ends up with this weird-as-fuck looking lamp thing, but he doesn’t realize it til the thing tumbles out of his shoulder bag after a long day where he was hauling ass all around the city for his stupid internship. So he has no idea where the hell this thing came from or whose it is. But as he goes to pick it up, it slips out of his grasp, and out pops this dark haired, glowy, blue-eyed genie who’s giving his whole spiel about “three wishes, rules, blah blah blah”

But the thing is, Dean’s heard about genies, he *knows* how the tricky little fuckers work, so he refuses. Plus he’s not on board with the whole “enslaved to you for eternity” thing; this is the twenty-first century, goddammit. So instead of using the wishes, he just sticks the lamp on a shelf and tells the genie (Cas, as he comes to learn) that he can just hang out in the apartment until Dean figures out who to get the lamp to.

And at first Cas is kind of miffed; how the hell is he supposed to bring about some well-deserved just desserts if Dean won’t actually wish anything?? But Cas kind of likes the freedom that he suddenly finds himself with. Like, Dean is the chillest fucker Cas has ever met, no matter how much Cas complains.

. "I’m bored!”

“Welcome to the internet. You can use my laptop anytime.”

. "I’m cold!”

“Thermostat’s right on that wall.”

. "I’m hungry!”

“Fridge is through there.”

So Cas decides to bide his time; Dean is going to slip up at some point right? Right… but the thing is, Dean doesn’t actually do much in the apartment. Between work and classes and the few friends he manages to keep up with, he’s only in the apartment long enough to shower, scarf down some food, and crash for the night.

Even so, Cas begins to notice…things. Like how Dean’s bummed about a test grade, or pissed about a group project where someone’s not doing their share, or coming down with the sniffles. And at first Cas ignores it; why should he, an immortal, all-powerful creature, deign to notice the plights of one insignificant human?

But as time passes, Cas realizes that Dean isn’t just some insignificant human; he’s probably the best damn person Cas has ever interacted with, and throughout millennia of being stuck in that lamp, Cas has interacted with more than his fair share of awful people.

Dean takes time to talk to the genie at the end of the day, no matter how tired he is. He always makes sure there’s enough food in the fridge. And even though Cas doesn’t actually need to eat (he was just complaining to be an annoying little shit), he begins taking the time to eat with Dean.

And as they eat together, it’s natural that certain topics will come up. Dean asks Cas how he became attached to the lamp, Cas asks Dean how he ended up with an internship in a department he hates. They figure out it’s pretty much the same answer for both of them: wrong place at the wrong time.

After a while, Dean starts to feel bad because the genie’s kind of stuck in limbo without a purpose now. He tries to figure out if there’s a way to free Cas, but apparently there’s this whole ritual that involves the blood of a virgin’s firstborn and the root of a tree that hasn’t grown in over 4 thousand years. So pretty much Cas is stuck with him until they can figure out the rightful owners of the lamp…which probably won’t be until after the internship ends—sorry, Cas.

Not that Cas really minds. Once he got over the whole “no more wishes” thing, he actually started enjoying his time with Dean; he’s like the brother Cas lost when he was enslaved to the lamp. Right? Because that’s totally what’s happening here; these emotions he’s experiencing are totally platonic, like what one would feel towards a sibling or good friend. Definitely nothing more than that.

But brothers and friends can still do nice things for each other. So, even without any wishes, Cas begins to help Dean out (unbeknownst to Dean, of course; he made it perfectly clear at the start that he doesn’t want or need Cas’s help). That class that Dean wasn’t doing so great in? He found someone who’s willing to tutor him for free. The slacker who wouldn’t help on the group project? Suddenly got expelled, so he won’t affect the group’s grade anymore. Those sniffles? Gone.

And Dean appreciates what Cas is doing, even if he doesn’t realize what’s really happening. And Cas is so careful about it, only doing things that could be explained through means other than magic, because he knows that if Dean ever found out, he’d be pissed…and that would be the end of Cas’s good thing with Dean.

And he’s helping Dean! Dean seems happier, and he smiles more, and his laugh comes out more easily, and he’s actually spending more time in the dorm resting and just hanging out with Cas. Things are going pretty awesome, until it comes around and kicks the genie in the ass. Yeah, that tutor that Cas specifically found to help Dean? Totally hitting on him every chance she gets. And when Dean first tells Cas about it, he can’t figure out if Dean’s pleased or not. And it drives him to distraction because does he like this girl back or not, dammit?

And Cas doesn’t wanna push it; if Dean wants to date some idiot bimbo who thinks with her implants and not her brain, so be it. No big deal, right? Except that it totally is and it bugs the shit out of Cas. But he decides that he won’t interfere; he’ll let nature take its course.

Until the night Dean comes back with a black eye. Apparently the tutor tried to seduce him into taking things further, like to the back seat of his car, and when Dean refused, the girl defaulted to typical college drama queen and started sobbing and berating Dean instead. Which, of course, caused her older brother to freak out at Dean, which led to the brand new shiner he’d be sporting for a few days, at least.

And Cas is about to storm out and find this bitch ass to set her straight about how she treats wonderful, spectacular people like Dean. But before he can get very far, Dean’s grabbing him by the wrist, just a gentle hold that should mean nothing to an immortal, all-powerful creature, like himself, but it stops him more effectively than any warding sigil.

“Cas,” Dean murmurs, a rueful smile on his lips, “it’s not a big deal. Honestly, the girl and her brother were both so shit faced, I doubt they’ll remember it.”

“But, but…” Cas flounders.

He brings his free hand up, his fingers brushing ever so gently against Dean’s stubbled cheek, just like he would if he were about to heal him. But he doesn’t, even though it would be the easiest thing in the world. He can’t; it’ll be way too obvious. All of the other things he’s done for Dean have been simple enough to explain away through non-magical methods, but this… this would be definite and deliberate, and Dean would know. And he probably wouldn’t be very appreciative.

Cas’s eyes flicker to Dean’s, prepared to see confusion at Cas’s hesitation or even distaste at their closeness. What he doesn’t expect is…fondness? Amusement?

“Go ahead,” Dean allows. “I know you want to.”

“Want to what?” Cas hedges, keeping his face carefully neutral.

“I know what you’ve been doing, Cas,” Dean admits, and Cas freezes.

“What have I been doing?”

Dean rolls his eyes as he slowly trails his fingers down the inside of Cas’s wrist that he still holds, his palm warm against Cas’s as he tangles his fingers with the genie’s.

“Suddenly finding a tutor after weeks of searching?”

Cas shrugs, his eyes sliding down to hide his lies. “You put out a lot of feelers; one had to bite eventually.”

“Gordon getting expelled out of nowhere?” Dean continues, ducking his head so he can look right into Cas’s eyes.

“He was using, and he cheated on practically every assignment; he did that to himself,” Cas mutters stubbornly.

“My cold clearing up practically overnight?” Dean presses, his fingers tightening around Cas’s.

“It wasn’t that bad of a cold…” Cas whispers guiltily.

“It took Jo and Benny out of classes for almost a full week,” Dean counters.

Cas finally looks back up at Dean, his cheeks flaming.

“Okay, so I helped you out a few times,” Cas finally concedes. “I just…I wanted to do something for you after how nicely you treated me.”

“Is that it?” Dean wonders, but his green eyes are still teasing and kind.

Cas’s blush worsens. “No, I suppose not.”

“What is it then?” Dean whispers as he slowly ducks in to bring his mouth closer to Cas’s.

And at first Cas can hardly believe it; Dean knows and he’s not mad! What’s more, he doesn’t seem upset by Cas’s affections…if anything, he seems to reciprocate them! Cas’s mind circles around and around until finally, he realizes that there’s really only one course of action to take.

With a strangled whimper, he moves in to press his mouth against Dean’s, the fingers of his free hand that Dean isn’t holding still stroking against Dean’s cheek. Dean smiles into the kiss, but it’s not long before his lips are too busy for even that.

When they pull apart, panting heavily and smiling dopily, Dean’s black eye is gone.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean says as he moves back in.

“Anytime, Dean,” Cas replies between kisses.

Later, when Cas and Dean are curled up together on the couch watching Dr. Sexy, Dean asks, “Why did you want to keep it such a secret?”

Cas frowns at him. “You made it perfectly clear when we first met that you didn’t want my help.”

“No,” Dean says, “I didn’t want your wishes. I’ve read enough lore to know that those things come back to bite you in the ass.”

“Well, not always,” Cas admits. Dean arches a brow at him. “The wishes are meant to teach a lesson, but if someone has a truly good soul, then no lessons need to be taught.”

“Are you saying I have a good soul?” Dean wonders, his brow furrowing.

Cas smiles as he smooths his hand over the lines that have appeared there. “You are, by all accounts, a righteous man with a good soul, Dean Winchester. And if I have to belong to someone for the rest of time, you are the one that I would wish for.”

He leans in for another kiss, which Dean readily grants.

[supercultshow]

Drunken Wu Tang

Howdy all you Supercultists out there on the interwebz! I’m Bad Movie Professor Cameron Coker (BS in “Purposeful Mayhem” with a minor in “Watermelon Monsters”) and I’ll be posting my hype-tacular speeches every week along with some long lost speeches from past Supercult Shows!

This week Supercult just stares in bafflement at the thing that is Drunken Wu Tang!

Here as Supercult we spend a lot of time watching bad movies, but an equal amount of time debating what constitutes “Bad”. The phrase “So Bad It’s Good” gets bandied around a lot as a distinguishing feature of the films we prefer, but we have also never been shy about watching movies simply because they fit a theme. We will, for example, watch anything that involves certain actors or directors such as Arnold Schwarzenegger, Michael Bay, John Woo, or Jean Claude Van Damme, and we tend to gravitate towards 1980s action and sci-fi flicks. We will sometimes dip our toes into foreign films or other genres like comedy or horror, but usually we do so because the films in question have awful in their DNA (often in the dubbing, the horrible jokes, or a horrible premise) rather than have awful thrust upon them through circumstance, execution, or acts of bad movie fate. Every now and then though we find a film that defies our formulas and demands our attention. A movie that is simultaneously bad and good, simultaneously poorly made and expertly executed, doomed to the bargain bin but destined for cult movie fame. Taoism Drunkard, aka Shaolin Drunkard, aka Drunken Wu-Tang literally blew my tiny, fragile mind, people. I have no words to explain the insanity that we saw and the emotions it filled me with, and yet I’m going to continue saying words until I am satisfied that you are satisfactorily hyped for this film.

“I’ll swalla yer soul I’ll swalla yer soul!” -The Watermelon Monster

More movies should have crazy anime movie posters.

This VHS box knows who the real star of the show is.

My secret weapon is a ball that has balls!

My Favorite Martian, Kung Fu female edition.

My name is Rat Face! Can you guess why?

This is a Kung Fu Movie but it’s mostly about trust falls.

The Bad movie report gives a good explanation of this phenomenon:

The Bad Movie, as I have stated before in my Philosophy rant, represents the best-laid dreams and plans of someone gone terribly, terribly wrong – these are your Robot Monsters, your Plan 9’s, your Astro-Zombies. But there are other kinds, those that exude a delicious, creamy cheese filling by their own design, yet are very well-made (From Dusk ‘Till Dawn, Evil Dead II), and those that go beyond bad and should have been used as mulch (I Drink Your Blood, something called Forever Evil). Then there is another sort, the kind that dumbfounds you and leaves you constantly saying, “What the f*@k just happened?” These are the movies that drop you down the rabbit hole, “ass over teakettle”, as Harlan Ellison likes to say, and deposit you in the middle of strange, unexplored turf. Eraserhead is such a movie. Drunken Wu Tang is another.

Another site, BadMovies.org, does an adequate job of explaining the plot:

Rat Face is tasked with finding a virgin male born on the 15th of August to perform a temple ritual. Cha Le (a virgin born on the 15th of August) is learning the art of being a martial arts using witch from his manly grandmother. He must retrieve the “secret document” from a hidden room, reaching it involves many dangers, and The Watermelon Monster guards the script. Princess and her cult often collect money from people, they can be very violent about not contributing. Old Devil wants the “secret document” to gain more power or something. The situation comes to a head at the temple ceremony where Rat Face and Cha Le must battle Old Devil.

None of these proper nouns are pseudonyms or jokey nicknames. Rat Face drives a tiny Flintstone car in the shape of a rat head. The Watermelon Monster is a gnashing black sphere the size of a yoga ball with derpy stub legs and grappling wires for ears. Old Devil apparently doesn’t have hand prints because his hands have been burned and flayed by a heated metal slide. Other characters named Porcupine Back, Granny, Princess, Shining Knight, and Fat Chick. You might be surprised which of those names is a descriptor and which is some sort of horrible joke by the English translators.

There’s wire work out the wazoo, sped up footage just for the fun of it, dummy bodies being flung every which way, skillfully executed fight scenes, specialized Kungfu weapons that boggle the mind, and giant props that would make the movie Torque blush red in shame. There’s even a section that resembles a live action reinterpretation of a Roadrunner and Coyote sketch. The only thing this film doesn’t have is rhyme or reason.

This film is nothing short of essential to any and all bad movie connoisseurs, but not just because it’s mind-meltingly bizarre. It’s also directed by Cheung-Yan Yuen, who plays Rat Face in the film, and who’s credits include the martial arts and stunts in Charlie’s Angels, Daredevil, Jet Li’s Tai-Chi Master, and Iron Monkey. What does that mean, other than I do my homework? It means that the director knows what he’s doing when it comes to action and that all of this well executed mayhem is almost certainly purposeful!

Maybe this film isn’t so bad after all…but that hasn’t stopped us yet, and it won’t stop us now!

The Supercult Show is proud to present: Drunken Wu-Tang!

Drunken Wu Tang Drunken Wu Tang Howdy all you Supercultists out there on the interwebz! I’m Bad Movie Professor Cameron Coker (BS in “Purposeful Mayhem” with a minor in “Watermelon Monsters”) and I’ll be posting my hype-tacular speeches every week along with some long lost speeches from past Supercult Shows!

[sogoldensolo]

Dragon Age: Origins, Alistair (even Google Image Search couldn’t find the OP or I’d link from there). I chose this specific image for a reason, maybe you’ll see..

Attn: Dragon Age fans, especially lovers of Alistair and the Templar+Mage romance dynamic, have I got a book series for you.

It’s called Blade and Rose, by Miranda Honfleur, and I recommend it to anyone who falls into the above interest group.

Firstly, I’m going to tell you that it’s a romance series. A smutty romance series, in case you can’t stomach that type of fare.

Why do I recommend it? Because, to me, it reads like an awesome Dragon Age fanfic.

Taken from Goodreads:

A kingdom in turmoil or the love of her life. Which one will she save? Elementalist Rielle hasn't heard from her best friend in far too long. Yet no one at the Tower of Magic seems to care about Olivia’s silence, or the curtain of secrecy surrounding the distant capital. Before Rielle can investigate, she's assigned a strange new mission: escort a paladin named Jon across the kingdom. When whispers reveal mercenaries have killed the king, taken the capital, and that no one is coming to help, Rielle can’t leave Olivia in peril. But as infamous mages and deadly assassins hunt Jon, she can’t leave him unprotected either—especially as she finds herself falling for his strength, his passion, and his uncompromising goodness. Her past returns to haunt her, a werewolf stalks their steps, and an ancient evil is gathering, yet the restraints forbidding their love strain and snap one by one. Saving Olivia and the kingdom means defying orders and sacrificing her every ambition, and could mean losing the man who's become so much more to her than a mission. Which will she choose: her best friend and the kingdom, or the love of her life? Dive into a medieval world sensual and dark, full of magic and greed, love and blades, where factions vie for influence and there are no easy choices. 

I have more to say, though...No spoilers here!

Jon is basically Alistair in terms of his characterization. He’s intelligent, a highly competent warrior, handsome (he even looks like Alistair, save for his hair is brown), snarky, honorable, selfless, loyal to a fault, a virgin, an orphan, and was basically raised by the Templar Order Order of Terra to which he’s pledged his undying loyalty. The Order of Terra basically go around protecting the kingdom, doing good deeds, and neutralizing mages and magic. They are warded against offensive magic via tattoos that cover their bodies and they wear armor and use weapons made of rare, anti-magic metal called arcanir. Magic has literally no effect on a paladin.

Rielle is a rare type of mage: a quaternary elementalist. Most mages have one form of “innate” magic, magic that requires less anima to use and which can be wielded without special training. Anima is their finite inner reserve of magic and must be replenished when used up. Rielle can wield fire, water, air, as well as control the earth/plants (geomancy). She’s a kind of a crappy healer, though (contrast to Olivia who is a master healer) because it’s not innate to her and so she’s never learned anything beyond the basics.

While Jon’s life has been pretty straightforward (raised in the Order it’s all he’s ever known), Rielle has had to struggle through hers and has developed an independence that brooks no compromises: she will do what she wants to do so long as it doesn’t conflict with her overarching goal of attaining the Magister rank within the Order of the Divine. This means she will execute missions set to her by the Divine with speed and precision to demonstrate her dedication and her competency and she’s not going to let anything or anyone get in her way. She’s intelligent - she doesn’t make stupid mistakes but she does make human ones; she’s flawed - her reasoning and actions aren’t always consistent as she is as subject to emotion as anyone; she’s fairly normal, with normal wants and needs and behaviors, within the boundaries of her world. She’s also got a lot of emotional scars, though she tries not to let them influence her too much.

Much like the legends of the Archdemons and the Blight in Dragon Age, this book series has the mythos of the Immortali: immortal beings of all kinds (elves, unicorns, mermaids, goblins, dragons, etc) that once roamed the world but who were banished long ago by a cunning human king. Much like the people in Dragon Age, nobody in Blade and Rose truly believes these legends have any basis in reality.

However, lending a bit of credibility to these legends is Brennan, Rielle’s estranged werewolf fiancee. The catch is that only Rielle knows that he’s a werewolf, a living member of the Immortali. If anyone else knew...well, werewolves are difficult but not impossible to kill. He’s a narcissistic, manipulative asshole who, betrothed to her since childhood, only wants to marry Rielle to validate his own importance as the heir of a prominent noble family. He’s emotionally and physically abusive of her and Rielle just...accepts it. She knows it’s bad, she doesn’t trust him, refuses to marry him, and keeps him at arm’s length most of the time, but circumstances keep forcing them closer together and give him opportunity. Nevermind that he needs her blood, just a drop, each month to prevent himself from going full-on out-of-control werewolf and Rielle accommodates him. Also, because he’s an Immortali, Rielle’s magic doesn’t affect him leaving her physically incapable of defending herself against him. The book portrays him as blood-boiling hot but I don’t find abusive, controlling men particularly attractive myself.

The world is dark, with depictions of human suffering, torture, drug use, slavery, you name it. I just couldn’t help picturing everything in a Dragon Age art style and the soundtrack would be pretty much perfect. The characters, from the mains to the supporting, are well-rounded with good and bad points and interesting motivations. Even seemingly minor characters can have a huge impact on the story and they do so in a believable way. Magic is magical but it has “realistic” limitations. There’s a conspiracy about the royal family, people who aren’t what they seem, and a dark ritual to complete by the end that will determine the fate of the world.

This is totally Dragon Age: The Truly Expanded Edition. Change my mind!

[mrmichaelchadler]

A Tribute to Olivia, the Scene-Stealing Dog of Widows

There’s a moment, toward the end of “Widows,” right before the climactic heist, when we check in on the members of our titular crew before they don their black masks and holster their Glock .9mms. It’s that quintessential pre-heist montage of the players saying goodbye to their loved ones, just in case the job goes bad: Linda (Michelle Rodriguez) and Belle (Cynthia Erivo) kneel before an altar with Linda’s children, lighting candles to the Blessed Virgin. We’ve already seen Belle bid her daughter farewell, and Alice (Elizabeth Debicki) have one final drink with her kinda-sorta boyfriend/definite Sugar Daddy. So, the montage ends with Veronica Rawlings (Viola Davis) standing in front of a doggy daycare, preparing to drop off her beloved Westie terrier, Olivia (Olivia the dog, continuing the tail-wagging charm offensive from her debut in “Game Night”). Director Steve McQueen lingers on this moment far longer than the other farewells—he pulls his camera back wide, and in the dark of the evening, Veronica’s body becomes a knife-blade of a silhouette: She lifts Olivia up in her arms and holds her with a tenderness that is more poignant, for its openness, its earnestness. 

This image of a hard-edged woman cradling her little dog, perhaps for the last time, is one of the rare pure moments of emotional unguardedness in a twisty film that is preoccupied with power: who has it, who wants it, and who gets to take it, against all odds. It’s also one of the few and precious instances I’ve ever seen, on-screen, where a woman’s relationship with her pet, especially her dog, is regarded with the emotional depth and intensity as her bond with child or spouse. Veronica is very much a woman alone, and angry about it—arguably, even before her husband is exploded off this mortal coil (or, at least, when he seems to have exploded off this mortal coil)—yet, her bond with Olivia isn’t a low blow of a portrayal, meant to show how sad and pathetic she is.

Olivia is her pampered, cherished, and oh-so-adorable companion; more than this, though, Olivia is Veronica’s connection to the parts of herself that long for love and connection—even though her life experience has taught her that love and connection can be the double edges of the sword that pierces her breast and lances her heart. Olivia is not just “the dog,” a fluffy entity for the audience to fret over, or a cuddly convenient way to thaw out an arctic woman and make her “more likeable”: “Widows” uses Olivia to tell a deeper, more nuanced story about loneliness and longing, a story that feels achingly familiar to people like me, who have turned to our pets to ameliorate both.

Tova

I am, to quote the kids in my neighborhood, “that dog lady.” I’ve lived alone for the better part of my adult life (since my mid-twenties), save for a German Shepherd named Tova (pictured above), who I adopted just after I finished grad school and started the I-guess-I’m-a-grown-up-so-what-now phase of my life, and, after Tova passed away, a wily Lab-mix named Mina, whose need for training helped me concentrate my grief. Tova was a gorgeous, martial-looking dog with a gorgeous, martial spirit. She was a pinnacle of her breed in solemn protectiveness—I remember how she dismissed one particularly tedious and callous beau of mine when he left my apartment for the last time; she stood with the length of her body pressed against my legs, blocking him from a final embrace, as if to say, “time’s up, cowboy”—but I cherished her, mostly (and among so many other things) as a constant presence, as silent and consistent as a pulse. She was my first “good morning” when I woke up; my last “good night,” every day.  

In "Widows," McQueen and Davis evoke this most powerful element of the human and canine bond, that quiet confidence that comes in sharing a space and performing the daily rituals of life, not through broadly emotive displays like the goodbye outside of doggy daycare (which is more impactful because it is so strategically deployed), but in treating Olivia as a fixture in Veronica’s life. Olivia is there, burrowed into Harry’s (Liam Neeson) side of the bed, when Veronica breaks down before Harry’s funeral, her meticulously-arranged face cracking, for just a moment, in an expression of raw grief. Olivia is there, nestled in her dog bed, as Veronica reads through Harry’s notebook of jobs, and begins to plot the job that will get her and her fellow widows out of debt. If the Rawlings’ penthouse magnifies and reflects Veronica’s loneliness and vulnerability—rendered in cool, distant colors that feel catalogue-ready; overlong corridors that seem to mock her sudden singledom with their dramatic excess of space; and broad-paneled windows that all but scream “go ahead and look inside, she’s all alone”—then Olivia is the affectionate, inquisitive figure of comfort who brings sloppy, puppy-kissing life into the void.

Veronica’s insistence on bringing Olivia nearly everywhere with her may seem, initially, like a defensive display of rich bitch posturing—but even this posturing is a form of well-sculpted emotional armor. I’m terrible with strangers, fumbling-tongued and desperately uncertain; talking about my dogs isn’t even a back-up, it’s often my first, second, and third plan of approach whenever I’m meeting someone new: Telling that story about how Tova almost won the pet costume contest, or how Mina came in top of her class at obedience school (not that I’m bragging), feels so much safer than offering something starker about myself, something that could be weaponized—but it doesn’t feel entirely like hiding, either, because these stories matter to me, as much as anything I’ve done in my career or any film I’ve ever loved. Being a devoted dog guardian means assuming a complex, multilayered identity—one that all the “Dog Mommy” merchandise tries to flatten into something both cutesy and sad. 

Olivia doesn’t just allow Veronica to cosplay ladies who lunch (a pure-bred Westie puppy can cost upwards of 3,000 dollars, easily), which does, in and of itself, give this abrupt, awkward woman a role to play, a way to steady herself and stay focused and sane—she’s also a source of silent comfort, a ballast against the tenuousness of Veronica’s connection with the other women. It’s telling, for instance, that Veronica doesn’t bring Olivia with her when she rushes to Alice’s apartment after the Manning crime family murders Bash (Garret Dillahunt), the original getaway driver: Veronica is blisteringly open with Alice, releasing the full ugliness of her anger and her terror, sneering at the younger woman for taking a man into her bed when “your husband hasn’t even been dead a month,” slapping her and taking a hard slap in return, a slap that finally, mercifully, allows her to break down and cry. Alice is the most nakedly vulnerable of the widows—a battered bride, truly down and out, who thinks she has no smarts or skills to speak of—and it makes sense that Veronica, who must expend the constant energy of projecting an impenetrable guardedness, would feel some degree of subterranean interest in, even attraction to, her. The last scene in the entire film is Veronica, also sans dog, catching Alice outside of a bustling diner and slowly, genuinely, smiling at her, asking her how she’s been. 

But this is not to suggest that Olivia is a mere mollifier, a puppy placeholder until Veronica can graduate into real relationships—indeed, the film demonstrates, with a diamond-sharp, blood-culling clarity, that Olivia is a far better companion than Harry was (Olivia would never start a secret second family, fake her own death, and try to abscond with Veronica’s hard-earned ill-gotten gains). Olivia functions as an extension of Veronica’s feelings, so attuned to her guardian’s moods that she’ll act on them before Veronica is even consciously aware of them—Olivia is the one who first sniffs Harry out, in hiding at his paramour’s home, clawing and whining at the door in way that evokes the grasping need and desperation of Veronica’s grief.

Some of that immediate grief is about Harry, of course; however, Veronica has been shaped by a deeper grief, the murder of her son at the hands of a trigger-happy Chicago cop. This death is so obliterating, that it isn’t even mentioned until it is shown, in full—it’s like some fanged, thunder-hooved deity whose name must not be spoken until it’s offered a blood sacrifice—and yet, McQueen, Davis, and screenwriter Gillian Flynn have already allowed it to echo through everything that we’ve seen before it, which yes, includes Veronica’s relationship with Olivia. We sense a wordless history: Harry gifting Veronica with an extensive puppy as a reason to get out of bed, to go outside, every day, until the routine starts to feel something like normalcy, until the dog can ease her calcified heart open, even a little. That puppy steadily becoming Veronica’s little sweetheart, her comfort, as Harry begins to pull away, emotionally, at first, and then toward the arms of a woman whose baby won’t be targeted by the bigots who still rule this world. 

Mina

I’d never equate the loss of my Tova dog with the loss of a child, especially a child so cruelly taken. But I can say that her death devastated me, that my apartment became a whistling void. When I adopted Mina two weeks later, I willfully ignored her foster mom’s warning about how intensely she would “miss her people” when they left. That separation anxiety, manifest in clawing and scratching up the doors, the floors, the windowsills; howling in sorrow when I locked the door behind me; and drooling puddles everywhere, seemed to reflect the intractability of my own grief, a steady heartbeat gone frantic, erratic around one core need: Come back.  

Like Veronica, although in my own, less grandiose way, I had to move through my pain, I had to have “the balls to pull this off”—only the “this” was no heist, simply training my unruly girl to calm down, to recognize that she was not abandoned and I would, in fact, come back. A training that, through its meticulous consistency, gave me a purpose, a reason to get out of bed each day, to go outside—until finally, I found a new normal, a new, and no less special, love, to greet with “good morning” and end the day with “good night.” Two years later, she’s my darling; that sweet, happy face in the window; that gentle heft climbing onto the sofa beside me. It’s a powerful, even transformative, thing, to see that kind of bond enacted without mockery or condescension—given dignity, in fact—by filmmakers who understand that the magnificent spectrum of human pain and tenderness has room for canine companionship.   

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[thecsientist]

a destiel analysis

Disclaimer 1: I am not caught up yet with season 12 and 13, but I am still including parts from those seasons that I already know. Let me know if I missed out anything/got something wrong. 

Disclaimer 2: All gifs do not belong to me, I found them on Google. If it is yours, please let me know and I will try to add credit. (my tumblr gets weird about editing posts and sometimes it’s impossible to edit a post)

Alright. Let’s begin. Seasons 4-13. (oh boy) Anyway, the key for this long post is that my own stupid commentary will be in (italicized brackets) while pivotal points are bolded. 

SEASON FOUR

Episode 1 : “Lazarus Rising”

So we begin our story with the fact that Castiel has dragged Dean out of Hell. (i mean... that in itself is already a trope i’ve seen in hundreds of fanfictions in multiple fandoms) Dean’s shoulders are marked with red handprints.

Let me get into the position of the handprint. With the thumb being towards his armpit, there’s only two positions that Castiel could possibly have pulled Dean out from ; by holding him by the shoulders (kinda impractical, he would have a pretty weak grip on dean) or by hugging him from behind (much more practical, because the grip would be stronger.) So it’s pretty much established that Castiel hugged Dean from behind to pull him out of Hell. Moving on.

We later see Bobby and Dean waiting for Castiel. When Castiel enters the abandoned warehouse, sparks immediately begin to fly.

Sparks flying has two meanings. 1) used to say that two people are having an argument with each other or 2) used to say that two people are sexually attracted to each other. I’ll let that sit.

Episode 10 : “Heaven and Hell”

Dean and Anna share a kiss and the camera immediately pans over to Castiel who watches with an unreadable expression. Dean and Anna share a tender moment where Anna says “I forgive you” to him and Castiel immediately diverts his stare from them. (what exactly is the point of showing castiel’s reaction to their kiss? why not show uriel and sam’s reactions too? they were there too y’know)

Episode 16 : “On the Head of a Pin”

Castiel mentions that his superiors think he’s “getting too close to the humans in [his] charge. [Dean].” (he visits dean at the hospital which kinda proves the angels’ point) Castiel also mentions that he’s begun to “express feelings”. (in other words, cas can’t do his job because dean is just that distracting.)

Uriel, to Dean: "Castiel? You see, he has this weakness. He likes you."

Uriel also orders Dean to torture information out of Alastair. Ridden with guilt over the torture he’s done in Hell, Dean refuses and Castiel talks with him to convince him to do it. Dean tells Castiel that if “[The angels] ask me to open that door and walk through it, [they] will not like what walks back out” and Castiel responds with “for what it's worth, I would give anything not to have you do this.” 

Episode 22: “Lucifer Rising”

Castiel pins Dean to the wall (it’s not actually that important but we all love this scene don’t lie)

Dean pushes an angel statue off and it falls to the ground, shattering. Immediately after that happens, Castiel appears to help Dean escape and rebel against Heaven. Whether you think this is a foreshadow to Castiel falling from Heaven or falling for Dean, still something nonetheless.

This is also the episode where Castiel throws away everything he had for Dean, even though he was supposed to let the apocalypse happen. Dean basically insults Castiel throughout this and finally, Castiel decides to help Dean escape, letting himself become hunted by the angels - just for Dean.

Castiel, to Dean: “I’m hunted, I’ve rebelled, and I did it, all of it, for you.”

SEASON FIVE

Episode 3: “Free to Be You and Me”

Castiel accidentally invades Dean’s personal space and not only is the scene framed like a kiss scene, it’s also dragged out for an unnecessarily long time. The moment could easily be played off as ‘no homo’ if Dean simply just took a step away from Cas before talking about personal space. He just stands there (also looks down at cas’ lips for a sec wink wink) before he waits for Castiel to be the one to move.

Dean fixes Castiel’s tie when Castiel goes with Dean to go undercover. Dean also mentions something along the lines of “people lie to get what they want.” (in another post by someone else talking about dean’s bisexuality, they talk about this as well)

Also Dean is sure that that’s their last night alive, so he’s determined not to let Cas die a virgin. That being said, he brings him to a bar to try to hook him up with a chick but it fails as Castiel scares the woman away. It still leaves Dean laughing and he says he hasn’t laughed that much in a very long time, and that’s something.

Episode 4: “The End”

2014 Castiel to 2014 Dean about present Dean: “What? I like past you.” - This solidifies the fact that Castiel does indeed like Dean and this has never changed from the present to 2014, even though Dean has changed.

Dean, to Castiel: “Don’t ever change.”

Episode 13: “The Song Remains the Same”

Anna goes back in time to kill Sam to remove his capacity of being Lucifer’s vessel. Sam is disheartened by this, obviously, and he asks Castiel if he thinks the angels’ plan is any good. Castiel at that point of time is still pretty emotionless and clearly still doesn’t understand human emotions. He’s ready to tell Sam the idea has substance but then Dean shoots him a look that has Castiel reassuring Sam that the plan has no merit. Dean and Cas are already close enough that Cas is willing to lie to protect Sam’s feelings.

Episode 18: “Point of No Return”

Dean, to Castiel: “Blow me, Cas.” - A sexual innuendo, Dean? Really? (also entirely unnecessary but he said it)

Castiel is staring at Dean in the vault and when Dean finally notices Cas, he says “Cas, not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that, I got laid.” (a completely unnecessary comment, but he made it anyway)

Dean plans to give his body up to Michael as a vessel. When Castiel finds out, he’s fucking livid. He finds Dean and confronts him, beating him up as he screams at him (probably the scene where castiel showed the most emotion all season) Castiel leans in close when Dean begs him to stop and Castiel says to him, “I gave everything for you and this is what you give to me?”

SEASON SIX

Episode 3: “The Third Man”

Sam, to Castiel: “So, what, you like [Dean] better or something?” // Castiel, to Sam: “Dean and I do share a more profound bond.” (it’s long been established that dean and cas have a closer bond to each other than cas has with sam)

Castiel also mentions that he truly cares about what Dean thinks of him.

Episode 17: “My Heart Will Go On”

Balthazar, to Dean: “Oh, I’m sorry. You’ve got me confused with the other angel. You know, the one in the dirty trench coat who’s in love with you.” - Balthazar is looking at Dean and only Dean as he says this (no sam involved) and nobody denies this. Dean breaks eye contact and Sam doesn’t say anything about it, as if Castiel being ‘in love with [Dean]’ is a well-known fact and doesn’t need to be addressed.

Episode 19: “Mommy Dearest”

Dean, to Castiel: “Cas, get out of my ass.” (again, this isn’t necessarily important to include, what with the previous line being ‘it’s not like cas lives in my ass’.) (then again, it’s an unneeded sexual innuendo to begin with. dean could have easily said something else, like ‘it’s not like cas is always watching me’ or vice versa.)

Episode 20: “The Man Who Would Be King”

Castiel wanted to go to Dean for help with Raphael, but he sees that Dean is peaceful, happy, and despite desperately needing help, he doesn’t want to jeopardize his happiness, causing him to collaborate with Crowley instead.

Castiel is working with Crowley in secret. When Sam and Bobby express their doubts about Castiel’s honesty with them, Dean’s faith in Castiel is unwavering, despite Castiel constantly dodging his questions/obviously lying.

Episode 21: “Let It Bleed”

Castiel has a busy schedule working with Crowley, but he does take time out to save Dean although Dean’s pissed that Sam and Bobby were right about Cas working with Crowley. He then seeks Dean’s forgiveness.

Castiel, to Dean: “Dean, I do everything that you ask. I always come when you call, and I am your friend. Still. Despite your lack of faith in me, and now your threats, I just saved you yet again.” (he kinda has a point dean)

SEASON SEVEN

Episode 1: “Meet the New Boss”

Castiel is dying and so he seeks the help of Dean and Bobby. While Bobby and Dean set up the ritual to save him, Cas attempts to make an apology to Dean, “I feel regret about you and what I did to Sam. I just wanted to make amends before I die.” (cas is dying and yet his only concern is getting dean’s forgiveness about everything he’s done)

When Cas collapses, despite Dean’s feelings of betrayal, he rushes to catch Cas the moment Cas begins to lose balance.

Castiel, to Dean: “I’ll find some way to redeem myself to you.”

Episode 2: “Hello Cruel World”

Castiel walks into the water after Leviathan consumes him. When the Winchesters find him, he’s not there anymore, and his trench coat washes up. Dean takes it out of the water and he keeps it. Throughout the season, Dean keeps this trench coat until Castiel’s return in episode 17.

Episode 17: “The Born-Again Identity”

Sam’s losing his mind and he’s dying from it, so Dean tries to look for someone to help him. He does find someone on the Internet and he goes to visit him, finding out that it is none other than Castiel (brainwashed by God so he could start a new life) He realises Cas (or rather, Immanuel) is married and he’s awkward the entire time he’s there.

When Castiel regains his memory, Dean reveals that he’s kept Castiel’s trench coat the whole time, despite having lingering feelings of betrayal for what Cas did the previous season. He didn’t even wash it - it’s got Cas’ blood all over it. (basically implying he kept it like that because that’s exactly how it was when cas last wore it - sentimental - also implies that despite his feelings of betrayal, he was hoping cas would return - “we aren’t okay, but we will be eventually”)

Episode 21: “Reading is Fundamental”

Dean still isn’t entirely on Team Cas yet, but he’s still happy to see Castiel again when they visit the mental institute after Cas transfers Sam’s delusions to himself. However, he’s disappointed when he realises Castiel is not his normal self. (remember dean, to castiel: “don’t ever change.”)

Hester, to Dean: “When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost!”

Episode 23: “Survival of the Fittest”

Dean, to Castiel: “I’d rather have you, cursed or not.”

Meg, to Dean: “Go ask [Castiel], he was your boyfriend first.” Again, no denial here, as if it’s a fact that doesn’t need to be addressed/denied.

Also their gazes in this still:

SEASON EIGHT

Episode 2: “What’s Up, Tiger Mommy?”

Castiel, to Dean: “I’ve been trying to stay one step ahead of [Purgatory monsters], to keep them away from you. That’s why I ran. Just leave me, please.”

Episode 7: “A Little Slice of Kevin”

Despite the fact that Cas intended to stay in Purgatory, Dean still feels an overwhelming sense of guilt about it, to the point that he even sees Cas when he’s driving, outside his window and finally, behind him in the bathroom (but this time it’s actually cas.)

There’s also a scene where Cas is all cleaned up and when Dean sees him, his hand moves to his crotch area as he shifts in his seat.

Dean, to Castiel: “Look, I don’t need to feel like crap for failing you, okay? For failing you like I've failed every other godforsaken thing that I care about!”

Dean, to Castiel: “I did everything I could to get you out. I did not leave you!”

Episode 17: “Goodbye Stranger”

Dean, to Castiel: “We need you. I need you.” (note the double use? that’s for when there’s different meanings. yes, dean, sam - and maybe kevin - need castiel around, but clearly dean needs him more, as proven when he feels the need to say ‘i need you’ even after ‘we need you’, like he needs to isolate his need for cas from sam and kevin’s need for cas.)

It’s also in that moment where Castiel throws away Heaven’s trust in him (again) for Dean.

Episode 19: “Taxi Driver”

Naomi, to Dean: “I know, you’re hoping Castiel will return to you.” - Dean’s face as she says this; he bites his lip and avoids eye contact until after she finishes her sentence. 

SEASON NINE

Episode 1: “I Think I’m Gonna Like It Here”

Dean prays to Castiel for help, saying that ‘[Dean] needs [Castiel] here’. It’s only when Castiel doesn’t respond that Dean sends the prayer to every angel.

Dean, to Castiel on the phone: “I've been praying to you all night.”

Dean, to Castiel on the phone: “No, Cas, I know you want to help, okay? I do, but helping angels is what got you in trouble in the first place. Now, I'm begging you – for once, look out for yourself.”

Episode 3: “I’m No Angel”

Dean finds Castiel almost dead and he cradles Castiel’s face while he desperately calls his name.

Episode 10: “Road Trip”

Castiel, to Dean: “You were stupid for the right reasons.” // Dean, to Castiel:  “Yeah, like that matters.” // Castiel, to Dean: “It does.Sometimes that's all that matters.”

Episode 22: “Stairway to Heaven”

Ah yes, the pivotal point where Castiel gives up his entire angel army for Dean Winchester.

Episode 23: “Do You Believe In Miracles?”

Metatron, to Castiel: “And the Angel tablet -- arguably the most powerful instrument in the history of the universe -- is in pieces, and for what again? Oh, that's right -- to save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right?”

SEASON TEN

Episode 2: “Reichenbach”

Castiel, to Sam on the phone: “I miss [Dean].” (not ‘you guys’. sorry, sam.”

Episode 3: “Soul Survivor”

Castiel restraining Demon Dean.

Episode 9: “The Things We Left Behind”

Castiel and Dean go out to eat together and Castiel asks Dean how is he. Dean responds that he’s fine and Castiel gives him a fond look, which makes Dean say “I’m great!”, followed up by Castiel saying “No, you’re not.” (cas knows dean so well)

Episode 22: “The Prisoner”

Castiel, to Dean: “Sam, everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long dead. Everyone except me. I’m gonna be the one who has to watch you kill the world. So if there’s even a small chance I can save you, I won’t let you walk out of this.”

SEASON ELEVEN

Episode 1: “Out of the Darkness, Into the Fire”

Castiel has been cursed by Rowena and his first concern is to make sure Dean is safe. Dean asks him where he is the moment he picks up Castiel’s call and Cas responds with, “I'm...I'm okay.” To which Dean immediately says, “You don't sound okay.” (he is so familiar with cas’ mannerisms that he knows when cas is not good)

On the same call, Castiel informs Dean that Rowena has escaped with the Book of the Damned and the codex, but Dean replies with, “Okay, forget Rowena. Where are you?”

Episode 3: “The Bad Seed”

Castiel collapses from the effects of Rowena’s spell. When Sam and Dean help him up, Dean puts a blanket over Castiel for comfort.

Episode 14: “The Vessel”

Dean still remains unaware that Castiel is possessed by Lucifer. There’s a scene where Casifer puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder and Dean looks a little freaked out/startled in that frame. Why? Castiel has always placed his right hand on Dean’s shoulder. Casifer used his left hand. That might have been the moment Dean realised Cas isn’t really Cas anymore.

Episode 22: “We Happy Few”

Amara burns Lucifer from Castiel, who slumps to the ground, unconscious. Dean calls out to him and immediately attacks Amara (who he’s supposed to be in love with.)

There’s this one scene (I can’t find the exact episode at the moment) but Amara contacts Dean through Castiel. Also this other scene where although Dean is in the same room as Amara (who he’s supposed to be deeply in love with), his attention goes straight to Castiel, surprising both Amara (who thinks she and Dean are meant to be) and Lucifer (who was told by Dean himself that he was in love with Amara.)

SEASON TWELVE

Episode 1: “Keep Calm and Carry On”

Oh come on, their reunion was adorable. And Dean’s fond smile and Mary’s face is just like ‘what is this guy’s relation to my son???’ I love it

Episode 9: “First Blood”

Castiel kills Billie the Reaper to save the Winchesters, even though it has cosmic consequences. “This world, this sad doomed little world, it needs you.”

Episode 19: “The Future”

Dean gives Castiel a mixtape.

Mixtapes are a common romance trope.

The mixtape is full of Led Zeppelin tracks. Led Zeppelin is known in the show to be very special (and romanic), it being the reason John and Mary grew an interest for each other (Mary was impressed with John’s knowledge of Led Zepp) and with Jo and Dean earlier in the show.

Why did Dean spell ‘tracks’ as ‘traxx’ and why did he write it like ‘tra xx’ when xx is commonly used as kisses smh

Let’s not forget the fact that this entire scene, that the mixtape itself, does nothing to help the plot. The scene was entirely unnecessary, but it’s there.

Episode 23: “All Along the Watchtower”

Castiel’s death scene, leaving Sam to have to get to the nephilim alone while Dean falls to his knees next to Castiel’s body as he gazes up at the sky in agony. Ouch.

SEASON THIRTEEN

Episode 1: “Lost and Found

Dean threatens God to bring Castiel back, “I... I need your help. (...) you said the Earth would be fine because it had me and it had Sam, but it's not, and we're not. We've lost everything. And now you're gonna bring him back. Okay? You're gonna bring back Cas, (...)” - Sure, he was also referring to Mary, but he specifically says ‘bring him back’, not ‘bring them back’.

(Unable to find episode numbers at the moment) Dean goes to see Castiel’s corpse. He looks at it for a few seconds before he finds it unbearable to look anymore and recovers his face. Dean also says that he needs a win, referring to getting Castiel back. When Dean, Sam and Jack burn his body, Dean looks devastated, given up, like he’s truly lost everything. 

Dean, to Sam: “Now, you may be able to forget about [Castiel being dead], but I can’t!”

In conclusion?

Yes.