#when she said “the act of securing this ritual will be the great work of the rest of your lives”

[practicaleffects]

Aabria's talking about Misfits & Magic here, specifically the project of troubling and dismantling Rowling's legacy — which MisMag season 2 pulls off so beautifully on several different levels — but I think the sentiment rings true for transformative works in general, too. If canon and monomyth can be vehicles for oppression, then it follows that reimagining stories can be radical, reparative work. When we take a piece of culture that isn’t serving us (a genre convention, a series of beloved books, a set of laws written by old white men) and hold it to the light and envision ways to fix it or displace it, that is a radical project. It is a visible and crucial mending, and if it comes in the form of play, all the better.

ANYWAY what I'm saying is that I went to the Gowpenny cistern and all I got was this renewed sense of childlike wonder and hope!!!

"It's fun and easy and important and good to dunk on Harry Potter and J.K. Rowling. But keep going and what you get at is: What about this story type and story telling resonates with you? Can you keep that while dropping all the things you know now cannot be maintained and should not be venerated? And is that a part of growing up?"

- Aabria Iyengar

[emi-writings]

Burning Iron and Honey Sweet Promises: Chapter Two

The second chapter. Wilbur works out what to do about the fae in his family's basement.

Wilbur spent the entire day waiting for something to happen.

There had been a heavy weight settled over the household, a tension that lingered on the edge of everyone’s awareness as they went about their usual routine. Wilbur and his mother, Kristin, prepared breakfast together, as Phil droned on about the plan for the day with Technoblade. Apparently, after they made certain ‘the beast’ was secured, they’d patrol the outer perimeter of the village, in case any Unseelie fae had managed to track them down to prepare a counterattack and breakout. Still, Wilbur felt like at any moment, Phil would reveal that he knew what Wilbur had done, and the illusion of peace would be completely shattered.

“Lapis, are you alright? You’re a bit quiet today.”

Wilbur looked over at his mother, “I’m fine.”

“Is this about our argument yesterday?” Phil interrupted, “Lapis, I know you’re worried about the potential consequences for capturing the Unseelie King, but this is a chance to save countless lives. We can’t just toss it away because a fae will act like a fae.”

“It’s not like that. It’s just… I’ve been thinking about it, and I really think you should have gone over your options more” Wilbur took a breath, “With such severe repercussions, capturing a fae king on a whim is a terrible idea.”

“Well, you don’t exactly have a lot of experience with the fae to back that up. There is only so much you can learn from books” Phil countered.

“Emerald” Kristin chided.

Technoblade said nothing as he appeared to have discovered something of great interest in his breakfast.

“This isn’t something to be taken lightly, Quartz. Lapis can’t be playing around with such monsters. We do what we need to so people can be safe, and nothing is going to change that” Phil continued.

“I’m going to go meditate” Wilbur announced in place of excusing himself.

“Lapis, wait—”

Wilbur waved off the concern, “I need to get my energy sorted if I’m going to be doing any magic today. Better sooner rather than later.”

Kristin rose to her feet and placed a hand on Wilbur’s shoulder, “You do what you have to do. I’m busy assisting the healers today, but we should make some time for me to read your cards. You do have your wedding coming up.”

Yeah, the wedding Phil arranged for me, Wilbur thought bitterly.

“Of course,” Wilbur tried to let any concerns bleed into his voice, “It would be an honor.”

Don’t get him wrong – Sally was a nice girl. She helped out around the village, was a talented hunter herself and they hadn’t exactly been rude to each other. But she had made it clear that she was as interested in him as he was in her. Which was to say, not at all. But their families both agreed it was the best. Mostly because the village needed more hunters and more witches, and who better to provide both of those then a talented hunter and the only available witch in the village. Wilbur couldn’t argue with it, it wasn’t like he’d ever get any other chance to find anything close to love.

After he was certain he had covered himself completely, Wilbur left his home. Or, at least, he left the main house. As the head of the village of fae hunters, as well as the person who found the first witch to work with them, Phil tended to make quite a lot whenever the fae hunters were called to deal with any problems. Especially when they were called on missions to castles or grand estates. So, separate enough from the house for peace but near enough for convenience, was an area dedicated to casting. A small cottage filled with different resources, with a small garden area for outdoor rituals.

As a child, Wilbur used to always visit his mother whenever she had sequestered herself away in the cottage. He had found the practice of witchcraft fascinating and had always stopped to ask questions. Technoblade had expressed some interest too, but Phil had encouraged and indulged in other interests of his – he had learnt archery at a younger age than most hunters, and Phil had even discussed Technoblade getting to design his own personal sword. Wilbur realized now that it had been deliberate. Phil got to keep his first born out of the line of fire, had an apprentice to help him during exhausting rituals, yet still had a talented hunter to take over from him. All under the guise of it being what his children wanted, decisions they had made without their own knowledge.

Wilbur meditated for a long, long time, and it had been fine at first. But Wilbur couldn’t help but get lost in thought, couldn’t stop his wandering mind. Q. The fae trapped beneath his home. Wilbur had tended to him last night, had fed him something to provide so he could recover some strength. But that wouldn’t be enough. Wilbur would most likely have to visit the fae again, and soon if the fae really had been afflicted with iron sickness. But while he may not have been noticed last night, he couldn’t guarantee that it would remain that way. He would have to do something if he wanted it to stay that way. That was when he got an idea.

Spell jars.

Spell jars allowed for the witch to manifest an intention over a long period of time, which meant that once a witch casted the spell it would grow for days, even months. A long-term solution if one required it. If Wilbur casted a spell jar with the intent of aiding sleep, it could probably help Wilbur when he snuck out to check on the Unseelie King. As long as the spell jars were in the room of his family, they’d be able to have a night full of restful sleep. He’d just have to figure out how to get them to keep the jars in their room, willingly.

First things first, he’d have to make the sleep spell jars.

The witch grabbed a couple of empty jars off the shelf, left intentionally for these kinds of situations. Afterwards, he gathered a small parchment of paper, lavender, amethyst chips, moonstone chips, a chamomile flower, black salt, and a purple candle. Lastly, he grabbed some thyme – it was only meant to be used in certain spells, but with sleep spell jars, he could take enough without anyone asking questions. After that, all he had to do was add all the ingredients to the jars, write a sleep sigil on the parchment of paper, placed one in each jar, and then meditate on his intent. Once he was done, Wilbur used the purple wax from the candles to seal the jars.

Once Wilbur was certain he had finished his casting, he let out a sigh of relief. Afterwards, he stretched a bit, before he concealed the unused thyme for his own purposes. As long as they kept them out of sight, the witch could brush off any concerns as him just using the ingredient for the sleep spell jars. Any of the suspicion would be easily explained away, as they would have proof of that it wasn’t being used to attract fae. And he already knew just how he’d get his family accept the spell jars – they’d just brush it off as him being concerned about the stress and fear caused by the captured fae. They’d probably accept the spell jars just to keep him away from the thyme in them.

He had a game plan, now all he had to do was put it into action.

“We had some meat for dinner tonight, so I managed to get you some meat skewers” Wilbur pulled out the slightly warm container, “That should help your recovery, right?”

The Unseelie King looked a little worse that night – paler, and bruises were more noticeable than they had been the last time Wilbur had visited the Unseelie Fae. They looked bad, and Wilbur had been surprised that he hadn’t been aware of them last time. Still, he hadn’t been able to get proper healing supplies that night, so the fae would have to do with the discomfort. The witch felt a bit guilty at that, he can’t believe that he hadn’t noticed the injuries earlier. There was nothing he could do for him now, so he focused on the present.

“Why are you helping me?” Q asked, a little breathless that night.

Wilbur wondered for a moment if he should answer, before he decided there wasn’t any harm so long as he left out certain things, “Well, I have this theory. I believe that is something horrible happen to you, the Unseelie Court won’t exactly just shrug it off and walk away.”

“So, common sense then?” Q laughed a little, “That would make you the smartest hunter I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

Wilbur resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “How would you know? You’ve probably never had the opportunity to have a proper conversation with other hunters you’ve met.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes at the fae’s comments and lifted up the meat skewers to the fae’s face. The meal had actually been a proper steak, but the witch had taken the time to skewer what he hadn’t eaten from his diner so that he wouldn’t have to directly feed the fae like he had two nights ago. He tried to ignore that part of him that wanted to – those thoughts could lead to nothing but trouble after all, and he had gotten into enough trouble already without intentionally touching the dangerous, primeval creature.

The Unseelie King appeared to be starved with the way he tore into the meat skewers Wilbur held out for him; a gusto he had lacked the previous time they had met. Wilbur felt the sense of guilt rest in his gut. While the witch happily ate three meals a day and slept in a comfortable bed, the fae was trapped in bindings that burned him, with no one who would even bother to feed him. The other hunters wouldn’t have cared if the King of the Unseelie fae perished. They would have seen it as a great victory against all fae.

“Since I’m going to be healing you, do you have any tips on how to keep you alive?” Wilbur asked.

“Aside from my freedom?” Q leaned his head against his arm, “Honey would be nice. Any magic that I could draw power from would be useful, especially healing magic. Animal blood. Human blood. Any of the usual things fae like.”

Wilbur ignored the part about human blood, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Honey would be difficult to get his hands on, but with a bit of invisibility glamor and sneakiness he might be able to sneak into where the contraband supplies are. Hunters kept them around in case they absolutely needed to make a deal with the fae. Magic, however, wouldn’t be too hard for Wilbur. A simple healing spell jar only required some pink salt, ginger, aventurine chips, coltsfoot, clear quartz chips, and apple blossoms. Though he’d have to hide the jar somewhere it couldn’t have been easily spotted by any hunter’s that entered the cellar. Perhaps another healing spell would be a better choice.

“Lost in thought?”

Wilbur zoned back into the present, “What?”

“You got quiet” Q said, “Is something wrong, Lapis?”

“It’s nothing. I’d focus on myself if I were you” Wilbur replied.

“I’ve had nothing to focus on but myself for the past… however long it has been. So why would I do that when you’re right in front of me? You’re far more interesting than anything else in here” the fae leaned forward.

“Well unfortunately anything that could entertain you would be a little obvious for any hunters that come to visit, so you’ll have to just deal with that” Wilbur said.

Q gave a smile that was equal parts charming and wicked, “You could visit me more often. You’re much more pleasant company compared to the rest of the fae hunters.”

“I’m not making any promises or deals in that regard” Wilbur reached into his bag for a bottle of water, “But I will see what I can do.”

“I appreciate the effort, but don’t push yourself too hard,” the fae said.

Wilbur paused at that, stunned. It wasn’t a ‘thank you’, as that usually implied a debt when it came to the fae. But it was an expression of gratitude that the witch wasn’t used to hearing. He hadn’t expected that at all, not from the ruler of the Unseelie Court. At most, he figured that he would simply not be threatened with an agonizing death, not that the fae would have actually decided to acknowledge the effort Wilbur went through to help him. That didn’t match up with what he had read about the fae at all.

Maybe he should browse through the books for information on the Unseelie King.

Wilbur changed the subject and raised the bottle, “Here’s some water.”

The Unseelie King didn’t counter and simply allowed Wilbur to completely control the pace of the water. Wilbur kept a steady hand as he tilted the bottle to allow the fae to drink. Despite the care he took, a little still escaped from the corners of the fae’s lips. A droplet of water left a wet trail down the column of Q’s throat. The witch acted without thinking and brushed it away. As soon as his mind had caught up with what his hand had done, he recoiled. Q just looked amused.

“Are you alright, Lapis?” Q asked with a teasing grin.

Wilbur blushed, “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You’re looking a little red there. It would be terrible if you fell ill” the fae continued.

“Don’t worry, I’ll still be there to keep you alive” Wilbur said as he rolled his eyes beneath his mask.

The witch had gotten used to the idea of the fae messing with him, so he ignored the teasing as he went and packed up his equipment. The fae remained silent as he watched Wilbur pack everything away. The witch almost wanted to shiver under the other’s gaze, it nearly burned into his soul. He had to fight to keep himself from blushing harder and harder. It felt too warm in the underground cellar, too warm standing right beside the Unseelie King – wasn’t he supposed to be cold and frigid, as the king of shadows and winter?

“I don’t want you in any kind of pain, and not just because you’re the only one who heals me,” the fae tilted his head, “I will tease you about it, but I don’t want you harmed.”

“Then you’re not that great of a fae, being unwilling to hurt a hunter” Wilbur commented.

“You’re not a hunter” Q countered.

Wilbur’s head whipped up, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t be a hunter if you don’t hunt. I don’t know if you’ve trained to be one, but unless you’ve tried hunt down a fae, you can’t really call yourself one” the fae answered, “I don’t call myself the Unseelie King for no reason, it’s a title I earned and one I continue to earn.”

“I still help. Just because I’m a shit fighter doesn’t mean I haven’t made great efforts to harm fae. You don’t even know what I am capable of” Wilbur said.

The fae laughed, “First – I didn’t say you were a shit fighter, and I have a hunch you’re not as shit as you think you are. Second, I never said that you couldn’t do anything to harm the fae. But you are healing me right now, so forgive me for being confused on whether or not you’re willing to harm my kind.”

“I’m healing you because it’s a bad idea to piss off the entire Unseelie Court. And you don’t have to say I’m a shit fighter, I already know I am” Wilbur replied.

“Well now I’m curious. If we ever get the chance, I would love to spar with you. I wouldn’t even use magic, just to make it fair” Q said with almost an excited gleam to his eyes.

The witch looked at him for a long moment, “Seeing as you’re in an iron cage and salt ring, I have a feeling a fight with you would be an easy victory regardless of whether or not you’re using magic.”

“… You’re kind of a dick, you know that?”

“So you say” Wilbur huffed as he pulled himself to his feet.

“Is that all for this visit, Lapis?” Q asked.

Wilbur nodded, “I think so. I need to get back before I’m missed.”

“Till our next meeting then” the fae sighed.

A ring of six candles, three white and three purple, both corresponded to healing, with Wilbur sat in the center of the ring. In front of him was a bottle of water in its own ring. A circle made from three clear quartz crystal points, three aventurine crystal eggs and three sapphire crystal eggs. They would generate healing energy, which the witch could harness for this spell. Wilbur meditated for a moment, calling forth all his energy into the circle he had created. When he felt that he had raised the energy enough, Wilbur held his hand out above the water bottle in front of him.

“Here and now, I call to the spirit of water. Dewdrop and lake. Rivers and springs. I call you forth, you that is ever shifting, that wears canyons in stone,” Wilbur took a deep breath, “I evoke you, water, to heal the afflictions of the one that consumes you. Mend the pain and agony of the one I wish to restore.”

The Healing Water Enchantment technically only required water and a witch’s voice. But Wilbur was nothing if not thorough, and he knew the fae needed more than just healing – he needed the energy a healing spell could supply him. So, Wilbur added the crystals and candles in for a boost to the power of the enchantment. The witch didn’t stop until he felt breathless and light-headed. He knew that the amount of power that was stored in that bottle of water would be enough for the fae to recover from any ailment, if only for a moment.

Typically, Wilbur wouldn’t push himself so far, but today was an opportunity he couldn’t have afforded to miss. The last four days had been hectic for the village, and not just because of the Unseelie Fae that lived beneath their feet. His mother had been trapped assisting the healers, the number of hunters injured had been far greater than any mission since the fae hunters had the assistance of witchcraft. As such, his father had been forced to reorganize the roster, while his brother had stuck close to him during the day – not doing anything with Wilbur, he just remained in the vicinity.

But now, things had shifted. With all the injured in stable condition, there was actually time to mourn those that had fallen in battle against the Unseelie Court. Wilbur knew he should probably have been more torn up about it, but he never really got the chance to properly mingle with the rest of the hunters. That wasn’t the main point – what was important was that he would be unmonitored the entire day. His entire family would be busy with the preparations for their send off the entire day and late into the night. So, Wilbur would not only have the entire cottage to himself, but he’d be able to cook dinner without being watched.

Of course, Wilbur had been forced to agree that he would remain far away from the fae.

Phil had even added more locks to discourage anyone from entering.

Too bad Wilbur wasn’t a fae and was fully capable of lying.

There was one more thing Wilbur wanted to do in preparation for that night and it required one more spell. Luckily for the witch, the spell he needed wasn’t a powerful one – a minor invisibility   glamor. Now, glamor meant two different things based on whether or not the one using the glamor was fae or witch. A fae could stand in front of your very nose, laughing in your face, and you would never know it unless they willed it. A witch like Wilbur? He could merely make it so that he didn’t stand out, that eyes passed over him so long as he didn’t do anything extreme. But that was all that Wilbur needed.

Wilbur really hoped the honey would be worth it.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[thatunaturalmango]

Attack on school castes headcanons

Armin:

Smart kid, in so many fandoms and is constantly checking his twitter and various blogs (Tumblr) and forums

Always reading blogs and discussing fan theories, has tried to launch theory channels on YouTube but was to nervous to actually post anything

Shit post constantly on his throw away accounts, never malicious just cursed images of whatever fandom is being discussed

Loves American movies, has a sizable collection of films of all kinds. A lot of blue world and sea documentaries

Reads whenever he can, loved reading as a kid and that stuck as a habit

Could teach a master class in acting, he practices lines from movies he really likes. Can cry on command, and has a great poker face

Loves music, mostly pop and rock, supports the local music scene and loves live shows of bands he follows

Big hip hop fan, the biggest doja fan

Only games on the weekends, max 3 hours

His closet is 60% merch, 30% casual wear, 5% business attire and the rest is cosplay (tuxedo mask and a maid outfit)

Pranks are his form of getting retribution for any past wrongs

His parents are mechanics

Never was afraid of the dark as a kid or believed in cooties

Still has his security blanket somewhere in his house

Mikasa:

Her dad is a journalist, mom stays at home

Is a polyglot

Had an intense fear of the dark when she was a kid, Night light kid, it was a tiny bat

Is athletic but doesn't look it, nobody knows (except Armin) that she works out. She's always been really physically blessed rarely getting sick or being winded when doing intense exercise. Her parents were track stars and met in college at a gym meeting

Watches prank videos on YouTube and spams them to Armin, she knows it's all fake but pretends that she thinks they're real to annoy him (this was middle school)

Her room is really well kept, burgundy walls, dark furniture. Her parents helped her set it up

When she became goth it was a gradual process but it was hard to really tell her parents that's her new vibe. She's self conscious, and her parents are super supportive and made her feel safe.

She has an altar that's always has some light going, led candles only, she's too freaked out by fire to have it going when she's isn't doing some big ritual.

It has a crystal ball at the center, the two candles at the back always giving a glow, she has an athame Infront of the ball that's always closed but it's a prop knife that goes in when it gets pressed on skin. She has her cards and materials in separate drawers under her altar. She has a pendulum, bones, runes, books on astrology, crystals, incense and her book of shadows.

She does readings for all her friends, she does a forecast for Armin every week and only brings up really good things or really bad things to look out for

Always doing love readings for Armin, she knows he'll find his perfect someone and asked to cast a spell for him. He said no, so she just looks out for him and respects his decision

Marco:

Such a good kid, like literal angel

Agendas from yester year in his room, always has his schedule memorized but liked to keep his agenda close at hand

Always smells super good, has like 5 colognes that he bought himself after consulting a specialist

Really scientific minded, not religious in the slightest but he is always up for anything he's invited to (Mikasa's antics about calling the dead on Halloween)

Got a tarot reading from Mikasa because he heard about how she's getting into in through Armin, he kept an open mind and encouraged her. Although he's not a real believer, he sees it as a way for people to talk out their problems.

Wants to be a counselor when he grows up, he worked at summer camps and loved them so much. He loves kids, he was the favorite camp counselor

Always trying to cheer people up, not a push over and puts his foot down constantly when he sees people being bullied

Choir kid

Loves old music (1920-1985)

Jean:

Was a chubby kid all through elementary and most of middle school, puberty hit his metabolism like crazy

Big crier, like all the time in elementary

Practices dances in his room all the time, hoping one day he'll get to use them

He adopted the bad boy persona to divorce himself from the kid image of himself

He worked out hard to get the body he's in now, mostly if not all glam muscles. Don't ask to see his legs they are quite skinny

Bugs Armin because he's always with Mikasa and wants him to leave her side long enough to ask her out

Stops bugging Armin due to his reputation being smeared

Annie:

She's adopted, her dad wanted to start a family but never really got around to finding love but wanted to help a kid that was an orphan like him

Really active kid but rarely talked to people, was the kid who'd run away from people if they tried to talk to her. Hides behind her dad's leg

Learned martial arts from a young age, she like it but wasn't super thrilled by her dad being super extra about it

Won a championship when she was 14 and got to ask her dad for anything because she whooped grown man ass. She chose guitar lessons, smiled the whole time

She started the cooties thing at her school to get people to leave her alone

She grew up on classic rock, her dad is an older gentleman and is a vet. Her brash way of speaking comes from hearing him and his friends talking

Loves sweeties because her dad rarely lets candy into the house, but on her birthday and graduation days he gets her the most sugary bullshit possible

Rarely watches movies but has a secret love for romance movies, however she can't stand most Hallmark movies

Enjoys her alone time, she has a low social battery and doesn't like big groups and usually tires out quick

Knew Reiner and Berthold in elementary school, she has kicked Reiner in the shins twice, once because he pissed her off and the other time is because she wanted an excuse to leave a social situation that he roped her into

Can handle Berthold because he rarely talks, she's the one to keep the convos going because he can't really come up with things to say

Went to her first concert at 12, her dad hated it but was their to accompany her

She considers her best friend to be Mina since she always talked to her, they have a couple of year long text conversation going

She writes HAGS (Have a great summer) in people's yearbooks if asked, but she writes out fully thought out and meaningful page long messages to her friends.

Started wearing punk stuff freshman year

Got her license as soon as she could

Loves British tv shows, really into their comedy

Rarely posts anything on social media, but spends an unhealthy amount of time on YouTube, Spotify, Pandora and band camp

Constantly listening to something

Armin and Mikasa's friendship

Him and Mikasa are childhood friends, she invited him for a tea party thinking he was a girl, when informed he was a boy by her parents Mikasa asked him if he wanted to stay and he did. It was history from there.

They went to the same school since pre school to high school, and honestly plan to even after. They were next to each other during nap time

Is an only child but Mikasa is over at his house so much that she's basically his sister, and he's over at her house so often that he's essentially her brother.

They've been to movies, concerts and events together if they could go together

Armin and Mikasa really love dark gothic stuff, when she went Goth he really was super supportive and helps her research occult topics and she learned Tarot by practicing on him. He use to not believe in it until a lot of her predictions started happening, he calls himself a "hesitant believer" because not all of them came true but enough came true that it took him back.

In the fourth grade they were each other's first kiss, it was a decision they made talking about it since they heard other kids had their first kiss. It was quick and they both cringed about it, still to this day, and is a mood killer when it is brought up

They just use their inside jokes all the time regardless of who's present. Mikasa calls Armin the "descendant of darkness" because he helped her get over her fear of the dark, he calls her supreme because they loved AHS coven

Super protective of each other

Sasha

Comes from a yeehaw family, like they're country as hell but live in the nicest house on the block

She is the biggest sister and the best babysitter

Is always active either because of her siblings or she can't stop pacing

Met Connie when they were in elementary, they got in trouble for not being able to stand still so the teacher held them back from recess set them down and told them to write an essay. They just ended up playing in the room and just made it tornado mess in the room

Played with the boys and girls equally, but when cooties got started she would chase all the boys like a sheepdog to the sheep

Not the best student, had a lot of tutors growing up

Hunting trips with the family, she was a natural

Really sensitive ears, she gets overwhelmed by a lot of auditory stimulation so that's why she prefers the outside

She has one of the most active metabolisms out there, either from helping around the house or exercising she's always constantly moving

Her favorite subject in high school is AP psychology, she has a natural talent for picking up on cues and loves to talk to people

Is not afraid to get physical with anybody who makes fun of her friends or tries to cross her

Although she's only in one after school club she appears in so many of the after school pictures people just assume she was in all of them

The janitors hate her, she just leaves crumbs absolutely everywhere, the school just started calling them Sasha trails

Is a slave perfectionist and is afraid of people will rag on her for any little mistake that she does

Outside of Connie she actually gets along really well with Jean

Has a knack for cooking, like she is what amounts to a master chef amongst her friends

She heard John complain about not having a girlfriend or not being kissed in such a long time she just jumped on him for the most over the top kiss ever. They both thought it was super weird, but it got Jean to stop freaking out about that stuff. What made it worse is that this was in front of their whole friends group

Is the reason why the fire alarms have those plastic coverings over them, she didn't pull any of them but her and Connie just run down the hallway and just shoulder check each other so often that people have bumped into those things by accident and almost set them off

Goes out of state to go to college and get her degree in developmental psychology

Connie

Although he's the shortest of his siblings he is the older brother

His laid-back attitude doesn't really give it off but he's actually very responsible, he's one of those people that you remind them of a project that's do or something and they already have it done and they look at you and say hey did you do it

Not one much for studying, pays all the attention in lecture so he can avoid studying at home, he has no way of explaining it but studying at home just seems so difficult for him

Watches those old LA noire movies and wishes he could be a detective from those times

Secretly has a beautiful singing voice

He and Armin took a couple of improv classes together but he actually stuck with it and went to school for acting

Reiner

Momma's boy, only child

His mom was the only parent and as a result felt that he had to fulfill a protector role and his house, when he was really little like five or six years old he said he was the man of the house

He had a lot of good male role models growing up not just from TV but from his school and the friends that his mom had, his uncle was his biggest influence and for all intents and purposes was a emergency contact number

Really active kid, love playing with other kids, had to be told a couple times to be nice since he was bigger than most kids and used that to his advantage when he learned he could

Not a bad kid per se but has a propensity for exploiting his edge on others when he was much younger

Was in football since Little leagues all the way up until he graduates college, he loves the sports he knows all the stats he watches old game highlight reels and every Halloween even when he was in trick or treating he dresses up as an NFL player

Funny enough him and Bert were diametric opposites personality-wise but they got along because they had a fondness for football and other sports

The only reason that he started talking to Annie and they became friends is because he learned that his friend had a crush on her and he was trying to get her to talk to him, he was a little bit too persistent and he put his hand on and he's shoulder and when that wouldn't work he slightly pulled on her hair causing her to swing back and take him in the shins as hard as possible (elementary school, like 1st or 2nd grade)

Started working out at a really young age and before he can join a gym he always helps his mom out with a groceries and did push ups around the house

Started accumulating a lot of friends both in real life and on social media and honestly loves the attention

After the whole Annie incident around 5th grade they made up and he adopted her as a honorary third member to the duo that him and Burt had.

Bert reminds him that a duo is a duo because there's two not three, not that he doesn't understand the concept but he just is a hard time explaining that that's his way of saying that she's part of the group now

Weird enough is that his mom loves Elvis, he asked her if he could take some guitar lessons and she said he could if he found the money for it, money was tight around his house, and he did a lot of odd jobs around the neighborhood. He already had a good reputation with all his neighbors being like that good kid that had a bright future of head of him, so they were really willing to help him in any way they could

He got himself in Ash Martin that was from the pawn shop and just learned from the internet how to play a lot of Elvis's classics

He asked all his friends to help him make it happen, and this was the birth of the do gooders club

With a very strange tactical precision for children of their age, 14-15, they've rearranged the house and made it look like a small private stage

Him, Hitch, Mina, Bert, Sasha and Marlo to set up the interior to make it look really nice and have all the food that they prepared ready to go

Him and Annie were part of the distraction team and all the best that he could come up with is for her to kick him in the shins again, because he want to pretend that he got hurt so his mom would go upstairs slow with him and Annie

The kids weren't just there but all their friends and family were there because everyone was in the loop but his mom, it was so much fun for everyone

For the most part he is the brains of the operation, in the sense of like he comes up with the ideas and they figure it out. For a time he had a huge crush on historia but seeing as she wasn't interested because she rejected him so badly He was quick to move on but man did thay hurt

He also plays the drums, he took band classes for a filler in the morning but really grew to love drumming and was torn between doing the marching band or football. Football always won out

It's sad to say but he fights a lot of silent battles that he doesn't let a lot of people in on, and for time they manifested as overt aggression. Is Mom got a new job that was finally stable and it had good enough insurance that it covered for a lot of his therapy sessions, somewhere deep inside of him he always blamed himself for not having a dad and taking on a lot of responsibility when he was a little kid Philippine was so much worried that eventually manifested itself as depressive episodes and for a really long time he really thought that he could just power through them and just keep on going and being himself without help

It was actually Marlo who he told this to, him and Bert. They were both very understanding and told him that he doesn't have to do this alone and as good as friends are medical professionals are probably better and diagnosing the problem but they'll always be his support system

Always is posting something on his social media, it's either him doing community service, playing his guitar or a group selfie with all of his friends at the mall

Went professional for a time and got into the hall of Fame as one of the greatest defensive lineman of his time

Berthold

Was the tallest kid every year he was in school

Liked Annie in elementary school, never acted on it, after seeing that Reiner got his shin obliterated

Made friends with Reiner on the playground after seeing him trying to throw and catch a football all by himself.

Reiner taught him football, he taught Reiner about basketball

Loves basketball, always loved it as a kid and once a year him and his family would go to a live game. It was usually local games but when he got to highschool his family was able to get him NBA play off tickets. Best day of his life

Always sits in the back of class due to his height

Most of his casual wear are basketball jerseys

Only listens to podcasts, legit has no music. The only music he has is whatever the sound track was for that years 2k game

His long legs made him the fastest in school most of the time, Connie would constantly press him during laps

Dated someone but to this day nobody knows who, and loves it when people guess, obviously it didn't stick but it ended very civil

Can't play hot cross buns on the recorder, does not have a musical bone in his body.

He genuinely cannot tell if someone is on or off key, Connie and Sasha learned this and they made a playlist of really bad covers of very popular songs and sent it to him.

He genuinely thought they were good, still has it to this day and puts it as one of his gym playlist

Bert: wow they sound exactly like the artist!

Connie: yep they sure do

Sasha: glad you liked it

Bert: definitely! Wonder why they have so little followers

Was given the aux once in Marlow's car, put it on and immediately regretted it

Any and every popular dance that exists, he knows how to execute flawlessly

Has an entirely secret life nobody knows about, other friend group from before highschool

Actually has a girlfriend from another school but nobody believes him

Went to school for sports journalism, got to be really popular and sometimes got to go on panels which was difficult for him

He was always able to get interviews with Reiner since they go way back, everyone is jealous of his connections

Ymir

Oldest sibling of two younger brothers

She's a carbon copy of her mother, but in looks alone their mannerisms are more like their father

Was really close to her dad, they are best friends

Wore more traditionally girly clothes as a kid but started wearing more boyish clothes at the start of middle school, a lot of her friends could barely recognize her

She enjoys coffee a little too much, if not for her insane amount of self control she would have it morning to night

Came out as a lesbian sophomore year of highschool, her family knew since her 7th grade year.

She has a low-key friendship with Armin, they geek out over some new anime or show. They text like all the time, she has a lot of niche knowledge on old movies and got Armin into indi films.

Cannot keep her balance on wheels, cannot ride a bike or a scooter. However in a car she's a fearless speed demon, but other wheel based transportation she can't stop the oncoming panic attack. She for the life of her cannot tell you why she's afraid of them, she just is.

She's so quite when she moves it's almost concerning, like you could hear a pin drop in an empty room before her.

Has to constantly be reminded of personal space and boundaries, she learned real quick after a really embarrassing situation that happened when she hugged Armin from the back thinking he was Historia.

Marlowe

Super quiet kid, like he learn how to talk very young but just either refuse to or didn't want to

Has an older brother that instilled in him a sense of righteousness, his father is religious so is his mother And he always grew up hearing fire and brimstone sermons about people's responsibility to do good in the world

He wasn't a tattletale for the sake of being a tattletale but when he really thought somebody was breaking the rules he let the teacher know, he was not popular in elementary school

He always kept his workspace super clean and he always pastored other kids to keep their workspaces clean, him and Connie did not get along for the longest time

In his house they never really used any slang or any kind of euphemisms for anything so he spoke like an adult at a very young age

Likes wearing suits

Gives himself his own hair cuts, bowl and scissors 

He generally loves volunteering and when he got into high school he had so many community service hours he didn't even have to do anything over the summer or during school to graduate if anything he was way over the allotted amount

When you got to high school he became more aware of the world than the differences of people and took time to educate himself on those topics and in the process found a lot of causes that he would love for him and his friends to get interested in

He knows what his social group is called at school but doesn't really pay too much mind to it As they don't really do much

He invited his group of friends to do community service with them on the weekends, a lot of the times they said no until they really needed the community service hours

Always seen as the sore thumb, Hitch teases him to no end And genuinely gets really annoyed with her, gives the silent  treatment when angry

Good student, close to straight A's but can never knock Marco off the top

Thinks the castes are stupid, and sees himself closer to the bottom of the pyramid and more of a floater if it weren't for the group

Has gone on a couple of dates in highschool, nothing really stuck but they all ended respectfully.

Super protective about his private life

Will never say no to going to any event with anyone, he definitely has a complex where he sees himself as one of the more trustworthy in society

Never has said no to dates if asked, it's happened before results may vary

Tries to steer everyone in the right direction, is the groups tutor

Tutors Bert the most

He has a servant leader mentality, He sees that the role of those in charge are to make sure that the people who are under them or rely on their leadership have their needs met before anyone else

Has a car that always looks brand new, always is the groups designated driver because he doesn't like how anyone else drives

Never lets Hitch in the passenger seat unless it's just them, only because of she refuses to get in the back and guilt trips him into letting her go front saying that she'll hitchhike her way back home and God knows what would happen to her

He still feels very guilty about this but one time When they do gutters we're hanging out Hitch was doing her typical teasing, however Marlo started to get very passive aggressive. When the topic of what college are they going to everyone shared but Marlow, He said he'll tell everyone else but hitch.

Around graduation Hitch asks Marlow out and he agrees, they have a good time shopping. He allows hitch to basically play dress up with him as her living doll.

He went to school to be part of child protective services

They dated on and off and saw other people in that time but we're really good friends during the whole thing

 marriage after asking for her father's blessing

[i-fondued]

More ideas for the the theoretical medieval au (THIS IS NOT A REQUEST, DO NOT FEEL PRESSURED TO WRITE THIS I AM JUST IDEA-DUMPING)

The abbey is basically like The Knights Templar For Satan™️

The Papas are still Papas, and they don’t ever deal with the direct battle side of things; they stick to the spiritual side, and provide a morale boost to the knights and soldiers, while also providing strategic input.

Copia would be like the Grand Cross (or Grucifix, being that they’re Knights of Satan), though he never actually goes out into battle because he’s too valuable, so the title is mostly symbolic (my explanation for why Veritas hates Copia in this AU!) (side note: I hope I got the title right; I’m trying to be period-accurate by using real chivalry rankings, but that might be wrong. Just incase I am indeed wrong, that’s like the highest-ranking knight, aka the one who tells everyone else what to do); he acts more as a consul to Terzo, and maybe a little bit of a Secretary, taking care of important correspondences, helping in rituals and sermons, advising Terzo in battle strategy, and passing on Terzo’s orders to the lower-ranking knights who then pass it on to their own soldiers.

Sister would basically still serve the same role as a prime mover, but she’d be treated even more reverently than we see in SIS; baby-making is like one of the most important things to Medieval people, both to secure the Papal seat and the Grand Cross. Basically, sister is twice as important because babies/heirs are twice as important.

Veritas serves as the Grand Commander; he essentially passes Copia’s orders on to the Commanders who then pass it on to the 1st and 2nd class knights.

Sister Imperator is probably the actual strategist, let’s be real here. She just uses Terzo as a front because women had no rights in Medieval times, and acts like a proper lady and unholy nun who helps with rituals and nothing more in public. Behind closed doors, however, Terzo knows who really wears the brais (medieval equivalent of pants). Terzo goes along with it because it means less work for he and Copia lmao 😭.

Swiss is still Sister’s personal ghoul, and still acts as her body guard; the only difference is that he dresses in ornate armor.

In fact, most ghouls serve the same purpose as usual; they’re bodyguards for the abbey, and act as assistants when needed. The only difference is that they sometimes serve as Commanders. That’s the highest rank a ghoul is allowed to hold, but they typically serve as 1st and 2nd class knights. The method of summoning is very important when a ghoul’s position and ranking is decided; if they’re feral ghouls who were bred and not summoned, they’ll typically become a 2nd class knight (unless they demonstrate great battle prowess). If they’re summoned by a lower ranking clergy member( (like Veritas), they’ll usually become a 1st class knight. If they’re summoned by a Papa or Prime Mover (or sired by the personal ghoul of the Papas or Prime Movers), and aren’t that papa/prime mover’s personal ghoul (I personally believe that, at least in this au, papas and prime movers can summon multiple ghouls, but only the first ghoul they summon will be a personal/bonded ghoul; only in rare cases will a papa/pm have multiple bonded ghouls), they’ll become a Commander.

Ghouls aren’t allowed to become Grand Commanders or a Grand Cross because those roles are seen as a high honor and are reserved for upper clergy members. There has only been one ghoul in the entire history of the church. Not much is known about him, but it is said he was the third bonded ghoul of the Prime Mover who was married to the Papa and Grand Cross that started the Emeritus line…

I should mention that all the clergy members still have church rankings, ie Copia is still a cardinal. The military rankings only go into effect when there is, well, a need for the military. Usually the king’s army and the Catholic Church can take care of the battles, but occasionally (like 50% of the time) the king’s army needs help or the Catholic Church gets a little too big for their britches and decides to start a skirmish.

The boys and Sister end up in the main Vatican abbey when a skirmish with the Catholic Church starts and they have to relocate there because Terzo and Copia are actually needed (Imperator’s advising alone isn’t cutting it this time because it looks like a real war may break out soon with [insert medieval adversary of Italy here] (idk much abt medieval Italian wars, sorry guys).

I’ll be sending a second ask with a few links to some great medieval outfits for Sister, Terzo, Copia, Swiss, and the babies soon!

I literally have no words because I love this so so much Jar 😕😢💕

now I'm warring with myself if I should do this au or victorian now

If anything you 100000% have my permission to run with my ocs and write this becaus someone should. It's that good 💕

[itsallyscorner]

request:

maybe like a part 2 where the reader was a singer!

but maybe like everyone in the marvel cast goes to the sweetener world tour to suprised them n congratulate them?

Thank you for the request, hun! I appreciate you for reading my other stuff and suggesting a part 2! Now that I think about it, I might make the whole singer thing into its own series of imagines and headcanons! Just a thought🥰 Happy reading!❤️

A/n: I’ve never been to an Ari concert, so I don’t know the set list, but enjoy my loves❤️

💌.

Sweetener

(She’s so pretty ugh)

You looked at yourself in the mirror. You leaned forward making sure your makeup was all good and to check if your lipstick has smeared onto your face.

“Everything good, hun?” Your makeup artist, Perrie, chirped from behind you. You took a step back, getting one more look.

“Yes Ma’am.” You turned to her and she was holding up the familiar bottle of setting spray.

“One more spray for good measure.” She motioned for you to close your eyes and you did. You breathed in through your nose as you felt the vibrations of the arena. The mix of the music playing out on stage mixed with the cheering of your fans added to your adrenaline.

The tour was finally at Inglewood, California, the last stop of the Sweetener World Tour. You had been traveling around the world for the past 10 months, performing every night in a different country or state. As tiring as it sounded, you absolutely loved the experience. Not only were you traveling and seeing new places, you were meeting your fans from different countries and doing what you loved. After 101 shows and 3 tour legs, it was finally coming to an end. The ending of tour was always bittersweet. You’ve been traveling with multiple people and crew who have grown to be another family. You were going to miss them so much but it was time for you to go back home to your real family. Not only have you missed your parents and siblings, but you also needed the rest. 10 months of nonstop traveling definitely took a toll on you. But nonetheless, it was all worth it.

“All done!” You opened your eyes to see Perrie smiling at you.

“Thank you so much!” You pulled her into a hug as your eyes began to water. You groaned playfully and tilted your head back.

“I’m gonna miss you doing my makeup everyday. Ugh, I haven’t even gone out on stage yet and I’m crying already.” You laughed through tears as Perrie began to protest.

“(Y/n), I swear if you mess up your makeup, you’re never going to hear the end of it. Cry later!” She laughed as she tried to get you to stop the tears from falling.

She gripped onto your arms and yelled, “NO TEARS LEFT TO CRY REMEMBER?” You bursted out laughing at her reference. You waved your hands at your eyes and when they finally felt normal, you looked straight.

“Okok, I think I’m good.” You released a breath as you smiled sweetly at her, “I love you!” You giggled pulling her into another hug.

“I love you too, darling. Have fun out there, you’re going to do amazing like always.” She squeezed you tight before letting you go. Victoria, one of your dancers and friend, peaked her head into the room.

“You ready? They’re waiting for you in the circle.” She informed you holding a hand out. The circle was like a pre-show ritual you had backstage with all the dancers and crew. You took her hand as you all walked out the makeup room. Your heels clicked against the floors, echoing in the hallway. The closer you got to the stage the louder the fans got and the stronger the vibrations got.

The circle was already gathered with all the dancers and crew. When Scott, another one of your dancers and friend, noticed you he began to cheer. Everyone followed along as you entered the circle. You were tucked in between Scott and Brian, who were twins. The two have been your dancers since the beginning and still are how many years later. You were truly grateful for them and everyone who was included in your Sweetener family.

“Damn. Last show ya’ll!” You began causing them to all cheer. You waited till they quieted down, shyly laughing, before continuing.

“Um, I don’t wanna get all emotional and shit right before going on stage. I’m gonna look like a mess out there with my mascara running down my face. Perrie I’m sorry!” You laughed. “I just wanna say, thank you to every single one of y’all. You guys have been the most fucking amazing people to work with. You guys have been working day and night to make the show as spectacular as it is and I love you all so much. You guys are my family and I can’t wait to write another album so I can tour with y’all again. I just want to hug every single one of you, you guys mean so much to me. Like literally, from the bottom of my heart I love all of you so much. I know I’ve said that like multiple times, but I really mean it. Y’all are gonna get a fatass check after this.” You finished making everyone laughing again. By now a few tears have made its way down your face. You even saw a few people’s eyes well up.

You laughed as you heard a chorus of “I love yous” as everyone squeezed in for a group hug.

“Alright! That’s enough crying, let’s get this show on the road!” You cheered to help everyone from crying. Everyone moved out the circle and got into places.

Before you can get in place, Perrie pulled you aside to fix up your makeup. Your stylists began smoothing out your skirt and making sure your knee high boots were securely on. Next was to get your earpiece on while one of the stage hands gave you your mic. From backstage you could hear the intro to the concert playing causing the fans to scream louder.

You got into place as you got the signal to start singing. You sang the opening lyrics of Raindrops (An Angel Cried) and began to smile as your fans sang along.

The platform began to move up when you finished and the beat of God Is A Woman began to play. You were now on the stage, the sea of white lights looking back at you. The adrenaline was still running through your veins. You performed the song, acing every move of the dance you’ve learned 10 months ago.

When the last note of God Is A Woman played, all the lights turned off except for the red lights on the stage.

“INGLEWOOD!” You yelled into your mic, your fans cheering even louder than before. You shared an excited smile with Brian.

“Welcome to the Sweetener World Tour!” And with that the opening notes of Bad Idea began to play, the show finally kicking off.

You were in the middle of singing R.E.M which was part of Act 2 of the concert. You moved towards the pit to see familiar faces beaming up at you.

“Boy, you’re such a drea— oh my god!” You squealed as you saw the pit full of your Marvel cast mates. You saw all the Chris’, both of the Tom’s, Robert, Scarlett, Elizabeth, almost everyone you’ve worked with in Marvel was there. You got down to your knees to touch their outstretched hands.

The fans screamed as the camera from stage panned down to the pit where all the actors were. You took the mic away from your mouth and leaned down to them.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked them through the loud arena.

Scarlett, Brie, and Lizzie were the nearest to the stage.

“We’re here to surprise you! It’s your last show and we wanted to be here for it!” Scarlett yelled over the track that was playing.

“We’ll catch up later, keep going!” Lizzie urged you to continue the concert with a toothy grin.

You held onto Brie’s hand as you sang to them, “Inglewood let me hear ya’ll! Excuse me um...”

“I LOVE YOU!” The fans sang back to you, including your cast mates. You dusted your knees off and continued to walk around the ramp. Before you could leave, you sent an excited wave to Brie and the rest of them.

~After the show~

You hopped off the platform that brought you down from the stage and were greeted by a bunch of congratulations and cheering. You and your dancers shared another group hug.

“(Y/N)!” You heard a familiar voice yell. You follow the voice and see Anthony waving at you with his infamous grin. He was accompanied by the rest of the cast behind him. You run towards them and jump into Anthony’s outstretched arms.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sweaty, but I’m so happy to see all of you!” You wrapped your arms around Anthony’s neck as he spun the two of you around. He let you go and you were suddenly being pulled into hugs by everyone.

When you got to Robert, a proud smile was on his face as he cradled your face, “Sweetheart, that was amazing. You’ve outdone yourself.” He pressed a fatherly kiss to your forehead and pulled you into a hug.

“Thank you.” You laughed, your eyes welling up with tears once again. Next was Chris (E) who playfully shoved Robert.

“Stop it, you’re hogging her! Let me hug (y/n)!” He childishly whined. He gasped when he saw your eyes watering.

“And you made her cry! C’mere.” His arms enveloped around you as he hugged you tightly.

In your ear his whispered, “You absolutely killed it.”

You thank him and move on to Scarlett who already had her arms out for you, “Surprise!”

“This was your idea?” You asked her as she hugged you. A cheeky grin quirked on her lips.

“Maybe” she teased dragging the ‘e’. You hugged her again as she laughed into your shoulder.

“Thank you, Scar. This means so much.”

“It’s not a problem, honey. We just wanted to see you together while you did your thing up on stage.”

You were now full on crying through a smile as your Marvel family showed you mass amounts of love. You stumbled into Tom (Holland) who instantly grabbed you into a bear hug. Tom’s actually seen your show in London with his friends and brothers, so this was his second time seeing you perform.

“You know what’s so crazy?” He asked you leaning down to your ear so you can hear him.

“What?”

“It’s literally just as great as it was in London. Like everything looks the same, you sound exactly the same, everything! The show was fantastic!” He looked at you with wide eyes with so much amazement on his face.

You laughed at him and patted his shoulder, “Thank you, Tom.”

Suddenly there was a commotion a few feet away from you. You saw Robert standing on one of the cases your crew used to store equipment in.

“ATTENTION EVERYONE!” When everyone backstage was looking at him Robert sent them a sweet smile and was handed a megaphone.

“Alright, so I gotta say, (y/n), you definitely know how to throw a show. Everyone who was part of this tour, your hard work pays off because that show was the most fun I’ve had in a while! (Y/n), you keep surprising us everyday with your talent and I hope you get to do more of what you love in the future. As my way of thanking you all for throwing such an amazing night, I want to take out every single one of you for dinner! I just rented out a whole restaurant just for all of us and I hope to see all of you there!” Robert said into the megaphone. A round of cheers and claps were heard from everyone at the announcement. As everyone began to file out, you were being called to get out of your costume.

Before you can turn to leave you hugged Robert and looked at all your cast mates who showed up for the night.

“Thank you guys for being here, it really means a lot.” You sniffled, wiping a tear from your face.

“And you, I can’t believe you rented out a restaurant for my crew, thank you Robert.” The older man just waves you off as he slung his arm around your shoulder.

“Not a problem, sweetheart. We wanted to be here and we are all so proud of you, you’ve come a long way, (y/n).” He gave your shoulders a squeeze.

“Now run along now, you still need to get changed and I’m starving. Go.” He teasingly turned you towards your stylists. You rolled your eyes as you waved at all of them.

“We’ll see you at the restaurant!” You heard Brie yell after you. You quickly turn back, “OK, I LOVE YOU!”

The further you got you heard Evans scream, “I LOVE YOU TOO!” You turned down the hall, your laugh echoing against its walls.

That was definitely one way to end a tour.

[theunaestheticstudyblr]

Autism and School

Autism affects many aspects of your life, not just social ones like many people think. Autism often occurs with depression, anxieties, OCD, and other mental illnesses. It also presents differently in males than it does in females, making it pretty hard to diagnose sometimes. I wasn't diagnosed until I was 21. I didn't know much about it but I did a TON of research because it scared me to be honest. Reading all about it made so much sense with how I act, but my cousin said something that helped more. She told me that it's something that I've always had my entire life it's just now it has a name. Nothing changed.

But doing research helped me learn a lot and change how I do things to make it easier because you can only run into a brick wall for so long. I hope I can help educate people who didn't even know where to begin like me as well as provide a place for conversation to happen and tips spread.

I have found that studying can be really hard especially when your head doesn't want to cooperate. You yell at it to do this thing but it says you can only do the other thing and it drives you insane. I find that fighting it doesn't help much. Instead, I have to bribe my brain. If I study for an hour, I get to play video games. Usually hyperfixation kicks in while studying and I focus well, forgetting about my reward. Sometimes though, every minute is pain and overwhelming. When that happens, I give myself a break. Honestly I don't know if doing so just feeds the behavior like giving into OCD things or not, but I don't know how else to mitigate that.

For projects, I try to force a hyperfixation by finding something in it I find cool. Then presenting isn't as bad because hey this is super cool and my brain wants me to tell everyone. But finding that thing gets hard and can make a project content heavy in only one part while very lacking in other parts. So I try to find small points in every topic (which is draining tbh).

Keeping on top of a schedule is honestly the best thing I have done for myself. It helps make sure I eat, hydrate, work, shower, and clean without freaking out over something. It also allows me to monitor foods and activities and see how they impact me mentally and physically, allowing me to make more educated decisions for myself. I know now that if I read in the afternoon, I tend to be calm the rest of the day whereas if I sleep in past 9 or 10am I know I will be stressing and freaking out all day.

Some days going to classes are difficult. That's why I wear makeup. I hate wasting money. If I put on makeup but stay home, I've wasted that makeup, time, and money. So therefor putting on makeup forces me to go to class. I also use this trick when I'm really depressed and I know I need to leave the house.

I find that focusing in class is easier when I have a distraction present as well. That way I'm not trying to focus on focusing and then getting stressed and anxious. Instead I let myself have a distraction which keeps me calm and happy and let's me focus without trying to force it.

I keep comfort items with me wherever I go as well which helps me be calm and happy. I feel more secure in class. Jackets are amazing for this for me. They give me a chance to "hide" and be cozy and focus. Journals are also great. I used to journal a lot and definitely need to get back into it.

I don't know a whole bunch about stimming or anything like that and most of what I read is targeted towards parents or children and it doesn't help much. From what I've interpreted, it's something to help ease anxiety and give your brain something to do while focusing on something but beyond that I am completely lost. A lot of autism tips say try stimming but fail to go into detail as to how and what, since many people have been able to grow up with help and education towards their autism so it's seen as common knowledge in the community. Other things I have no idea how to even go about is helping when my brain just freaks out. Like if something isn't done specifically and I break down and stuff. Its not the same as my OCD break downs and rituals. And hypersensitivity also. It is absolutely horrible and I have zero idea how to help that too, so if you know, I'd love to hear!!!!

Share your experiences, tips, and advice as well with autism and classes if you feel safe doing so. I would love to hear more about it all and would enjoy any advice y'all provide. I'm always looking for things to help!!!

[littlefireofhestia]

hi! i'm sage and i was going through the "hestia devotee" tag and found a post of yours that said you were open for questions about her. i don't know how old that post is or if you're still taking questions, you can ignore this if you're not, but since i'm here i wanted to talk/ask about something.

i'm a baby witch (like the babiest of babies, almost a new born) and most of my experience is through reading and watching since i don't currently have time or resources to do any practice other than lighting incenses or candles or working with crystals. and i definitely don't know any form of divination, like tarot or pendulum, that would allow me to do actual deity work and properly communicate with them.

the thing is, i've researched deities from multiple pantheons multiple times, mostly out of curiosity, but the moment i came across a prayer to hestia my heart skipped a beat and i immediately felt a kind of comfort. it could have been nothing, but i still researched all i could about her and just. i've never felt this drawn to a deity before, much less felt a pull to actually worship one. but i feel very much that way about her.

i looked up ways to honour her and i'm genuinely shocked at how happy it's been making me. i'm finding joy in domestic activities i used to loathe, like washing the dishes or helping with house cleaning. i tried baking a cake all by myself for the first time and lit an orange candle for her while doing it. it turned out absolutely delicious, i discovered i actually really enjoy baking and even started my own cook notebook with some of my grandma's old recipes. i make a point to always tie my hair back when i'm doing something that makes me think of her or in her honour, like making tea or baking or making dinner for my family or cleaning, because i saw people talking about how she appreciates veiling but i don't know how to do it so i just tie my hair in a bun instead of putting on a scarf. and i used to hate tying my hair, but now i feel very good about it!

i've always struggled with feeling connected to religion and never really understood how that could bring peace to someone, but i haven't felt this grounded or loving towards my family and pets or in peace with myself as much as i have since i started doing things as acts of devotion to hestia.

now, on to the actual problem: i'm scared it's all in my head. i'm worried i'm not enough of a witch to worship a deity yet, since i'm still trying to learn ways of communication and can't directly ask her if she's with me. i'm scared that the little things i'm doing aren't enough and the comfort and faith i feel while doing them are my imagination and not actually her watching over me and appreciating my effort.

anyways, i'm really sorry for dumping these worries on you but i didn't see many hestia related blogs and i really needed to ask someone about this. is what i'm doing enough of a worship right now? do you have any tips on how to worship her better? thank you!

Hi Sage! I don’t know when you sent this ask so I’m sorry if it’s been a while since you sent it and my response is late. When I read this ask for the first time I nearly cried tears of joy. Before anything I do want to say that you’re doing amazing sweetie!

I’m always open to questions about Hestia.

First off, there is no prerequisite to worshipping deities. I am admittedly not a witch and worship the gods exclusively for religious reasons and not for witchcraft. I have not learned many divination methods yet (although I have used the very handy Greek Alphabet Oracle a few times) and my rituals are still relatively basic, mostly not even occurring on an altar. But I have felt Hestia. I have been in her presence. I have received dreams from other deities and signs. None of this is required to happen to believe in or worship the theoi, but I just want to assure you that beyond doing some research to figure out who you want to pray to and how to do prayer and ritual, there are no prerequisites to worship. My first prayer to Hestia was literally me throwing a scarf over my head and talking to her in the dark with a flashlight to represent a flame. No formal structure. Didn’t even know how to correctly hold my hands yet. And still she accepted me.

The vibe you get from Hestia is very much similar to my experience. I’ve been drawn to her for YEARS but didn’t know I could worship her. But she’s always felt like home and comfort and just right for me. I never ever had a reason why she was my favorite deity before becoming pagan. She just was. My connection to Hestia has been a fact for over a decade that I just didn’t know was religious until a year and a half ago. Me wondering if I could worship her is the reason why I started researching Hellenic Polytheism in the first place. She brought me to this faith and I am so thankful to her for that.

You finding joy in domestic activities you used to hate is something I’ve discovered through Hestia too, although it’s still a journey I’m early on due to depression and physical disability and having a lot of work to do on figuring out how to make things accessible for me. I’m excited to go further for and with Hestia.

I understand the thought about it being all in your head. I had those thoughts early in my practice too. Basically, belief is a process. It takes time to switch from whatever religious thought (or lack thereof) that you grew up with to polytheism and worshipping a variety of deities or even just one deity, and from there to truly believing in them. I’ve been practicing for a year and a half and it probably took me at least nine months to truly feel secure in my faith in the theoi. Research, pray, do ritual, devote acts to the gods, think about the gods, notice the influence of the theoi in your daily life, and gradually that belief will solidify. You may or may not receive signs, which may or may not speed this process up. I promise, if you want to believe in the gods, in Hestia, it just takes time.

Also on feeling that you aren’t doing enough, the video at the bottom of this post (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=odhRRYqQo8Y) might help. And I promise: you are doing enough, you are enough, just as you are.

Now as for worship tips. You are honestly doing great so far. Thinking of her while doing household chores and tasks or dedicating those tasks for her is a great way to worship her. I’d also recommend checking out her Homeric and Orphic hymns, one translation of which can be found here, and a copy of the Homeric hymns can likely be found at a local bookstore or definitely through online ordering. The Homeric hymns can also start to teach you some stuff about prayer structure, but prayer doesn’t have to be formal. Sometimes I just sit and talk to Hestia, or to any of my other deities. Tell them about my day, thank them for things in my life or the world, and sometimes asking them for things (although I find that I ask for aid much more rarely than when I prayed as the Catholic I was raised to be). I also have perpetually in progress playlists I have made for my deities, and if I want to spend some non-ritual time just focusing on a deity I’ll put on their playlist and read something religious or talk in religious discords. I actually had my most profound spiritual experience with Hestia while doing this.

Last but not least, worshipping Hestia, or any other deity, is something you have your whole life ahead of you to do. Take it at your own pace. Faith is all about the journey. The destination is irrelevant. There is no deadline or leveling up system, no authority checking your progress. As I have experienced time and time again, the gods will very much meet you where you are. A few months ago I was in a deep depression and did not do any ritual for several months. When I finally did a ritual again, I felt Hestia’s warm hand on my shoulder, as if to say “I miss you, welcome home”. I promise, Hestia will always welcome you home.

P.S. I know this ask is anonymous but Sage, feel free to message me with any additional questions about Hestia or worshipping deities in general. I’m here if you need any more help.

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

what did our ghoulies do for the clergy before they became band ghouls and why were they picked out?

Ooooooh, love this!! Love getting to explore different clergy roles! I love getting to play with the origins of Era IV!

Since I also make a LOT of references to my ideas of leader ghouls, I'm gonna go ahead and link that headcanon here to avoid confusion! --> [Link]

Era IV Jobs Before the Ghost Project

Aether: Aether was summoned when the ministry decided to start training successor ghouls to the current ghoul leaders. Air had finally stepped down as Beta ghoul, and the ministry was afraid others would do the same. Ather was summoned specially to become the next Omega ghoul. While Aether has his own powers of healing that took over as his main duties, he mainly shadowed the head quintessence ghoul. This included a lot of traveling, learning about Earth and human culture, and working with many different types of ghouls. There was also a lot of personal assistance to the Emeritus line, as aether ghoul healing is more effective for demon blood than normal human medicine.

When Omega was on his tours, Aether took care of his business in his stead to test how close he was to being ready. Aether was never originally meant to take part in the Ghost project until a few albums ahead. But with Omega’s sudden departure and being needed back in the Clergy, Aether was once again tested by being a band substitute. Luckily, he was a natural and has been proving himself as the next head ghoul! Handling both responsibilities and the pressure of being the Omega Ghoul.

Cumulus: Cumulus has been around for a few decades and has served enthusiastically. Her first decade was as an assistant to Papa I- her summoner. Namely as his ritual assistant and with his paperwork. She has always had a good eye for detail and organization, with a queenly air of authority about her. But Papa believes in letting his ghouls flourish to their strong suits. Until Copia’s ascension, Cumulus has been the lively and loyal personal ghoul to Sister Imperator. Serving as everything from bodyguard, personal confidant, and even enforcer to the Mother Superior. Cumulus was the very first selected for the job of band ghoul when it was Copia’s turn to head the Ghost project.

Imperator wanted a ghoul who was smart, capable, and with a good grasp of leadership to help supervise the other ghouls. Cumulus was also vouched for by Air. Her and Cirrus were both personally trained by the older ghoul when he was looking for a successor for the Beta ghoul position. While neither were chosen for that particular duty, Cumulus is happy to be a part of the band. She still keeps in touch with Imperator and sometimes acts as though she is Copia’s manager. If something goes wrong or needs to be done, Cumulus is the first to know.

Cirrus: Cirrus has gone back and forth between two duties. Serving the current Imperator and studying under the former Beta ghoul, Air. Cirrus is a tough cookie and has been a ghoulish enforcer for many abbies. Essentially keeping ghouls and siblings in line when it comes to fights or rule breaking. There are always ghouls who make sure the will of the clergy is followed and those who commit crimes are punished. This was her preferred job, rather than work with Air. Who tended to find stuffy, traditional research more important. Cirrus, as calm as she is, prefers hands on work. She’s also worked security detail for all of the Papas but most importantly, Grand Papa Nihil. Cirrus is a long time bodyguard (and baby sitter) for the Grandpapa and Sister Imperator.

Cirrus was recommended by both Cumulus and Air- since they were both practically raised by Air to be potential leader ghouls. Nihil was particularly sad to see Cirrus disappear from his entourage, but agreed she would be a wonderful fit. Also Nihil and Imperator can agreed that Cirrus keeps Copia in line by her sheer intimidating presence and powerful aura. Cirrus would be lying if she said she didn’t also enjoy the chance to do something more fun and get away from the clergy for a bit!

Mountain: Although Mountain was summoned by Papa II, he was never strictly a ghoul for the Emeritus. Personally summoned ghouls tend to be bodyguards or close entourage for their Papal summoners. For a couple of decades Mountain was an effective and reliable body guard for Papa II. But Papa eventually realized his ghoul’s talents were being wasted. Stone ghouls have been shown to have natural strength beyond most ghouls and a good eye for architecture. Mountain has been responsible for helping build new cathedrals, quarters, and even clearing land. His level headedness and bluntness have also been excellent when working with Papa II, who has supervised many of these new buildings.

Mountain being assigned to go with Copia was actually a sort of ‘good faith loan’ from Papa II. Don’t get me wrong, Papa II does NOT like Copia. He finds him opportunistic and a usurping leech… However, Copia IS chosen by Lucifer. Papa II cares about his ministry MORE than he hates Copia. Since he hasn’t had Mountain as a bodyguard for years he decides to recommend him. After all, it also looks good on him for being generous enough to support the newest singer of the band. The Ministry was happy, mainly to let the Cardinal practice working with ghouls of different types and skill sets to delegate. On tour he was accepted and chosen for both his natural talents but to help balance out all of the incredibly strong personalities of the current ghouls.

Rain: Rain was a very behind the scenes ghoul, and rarely worked in the public congregation. He was the archivist assistant to the current head water ghoul, Delta. Delta is one of the oldest serving ghouls who now takes care of the Ministry’s protected collections of records. Rain has happily kept a quiet existence processing old and new registrations for the entire ministry. At one point Rain had studied directly under Delta with Water and Mist- all powerful water ghouls who are being trained for greater works. Rain loved playing music but never considered himself one to be ever picked for anything but reorganizing entire archives and dusting off old books.

Rain was recommended by Mist after her short stint with the Ghost project and Papa III. While she wanted to go on tour, she was needed elsewhere to train. She could vouch for Rain’s hard work and need to open up and embrace his potential. Copia was happy to take the water ghoul, as was shown to have indelible talent and an agreeable personality. The touring has definitely made Rain want to be more active in the ministry and with his fellow ghouls.

Swiss: Swiss was actually pretty high ranked before he became a band ghoul! While not part of the leader ghouls for the entire ministry, Swiss was the top ghoul in one of the main cathedrals outside of the head abbey. This meant he directed, advocated, and watched over all of the ghouls a part of the cathedral. Making sure all duties were done and all ghouls were taken care of. Swiss is a pretty strong ghoul in his own right. While he is fire he was born from two mixed ghouls of different elements. So he is well versed in different elemental energies and knowledge. His easy going nature and quick wit makes him a favorite among siblings and ghouls alike. Higher Clergy also worked with him to make accommodations and holidays for the ghouls.

Swiss was hand picked by Copia who worked with him pre Ghost project. Copia has always valued Swiss’s hard work and ability to get along with everyone he met. Swiss was agreed by Imperator and the ministry to be a great ghoul. Not just in vocals but bringing everyone together and interacting with the fans and staff. Swiss accepted the position with glee. He loves doing ceremonies at his home abbey, and a Ritual is nothing different- just bigger! Plus, Swiss will never turn down a chance to sing.

Ember: Ember has been strong but an entire pain in the ass of the Ministry for a LONG time. There have been many times he was almost sent back to Hell because he was difficult to control. Ember has calmed down in recent years, but he can still be a bit of a thorn in everyone's side. But he has so much potential within the Ministry, he’s too valuable of an asset. At first he was summoned as the potential candidate to be the next Alpha ghoul, for when Alpha eventually steps down. But to help him adjust to the responsibilities he had been shipped to many places with many duties. He’s been everything from a guard, to ritual assistant, to attack dog.

Eventually he found a spot with Papa III right before he went on tour as his bodyguard. Their energies actually worked very well together and he was one of the few before Copia who was able to give him the right outlets he needed. Ember was hand chosen to be a bassist by Papa III when Alpha had to return with Omega to the Ministry. Ember had originally asked to be guitarist, but the Ministry was interested in testing Ifrit to be the next Alpha ghoul. Ember was just happy to play but was absolutely thrilled when Copia asked for him to play head guitar.

[voiceless-terror]

More than Enough

For @tma-mspec-week Day Three: Polycule

Characters: Jonathan Sims/Sasha James/Tim Stoker/Martin Blackwood

Rating: Teen

Summary:

“But what if-” Once again, Jon struggles to find the right words. He knows their situation is unorthodox to most people, and the thought of Martin looking at him differently is too much to bear. “What if he doesn’t understand?”

“Then explain it to him,” Sasha relays patiently, her hand never leaving his. Things are always so clear to her, Jon envies that. “You’re my partners, you’re dating Tim, sometimes me and Tim have-”

Or: How One Became Four.

It starts with Sasha and Jon.

She’s fresh off six months in Artefact Storage, shell-shocked and stand-offish. Jon starts a few months later and they learn the ropes together. She warms up, divulges little tidbits of her time in the other department that Jon devours. He’s young, hungry for answers and Sasha’s already jaded by her few years in academia. This is just a transitional job, she assures him. It pays better than most research gigs and allows her to keep up a certain lifestyle. 

“I’m looking at other places, putting out feelers,” she confides in him one day over coffee. It’s become their daily ritual, a mid-morning break where they can commiserate on the staid academics that ask too much of them and the fanciful statements that end up on their desk. “Whatever you do, don’t get stuck here.” She leans back in her chair, gives a cynical little smile. “Or maybe you should. It’ll be different for you, you’re a man.” He starts a protest but she cuts him off. “It’s an old boys club and you know it. Besides, I know all about your extra meetings with Bouchard. He’s never done that with anyone else. Who knows - in a few years you might be my boss!”

He scoffs at that. Jon feels like he’s treading water. He’s a great researcher, sure, but he hasn’t exactly made himself popular among the others. He’s quick to bite, dismissive, blunt. It’s why he and Sasha get along so well, tucked away in their own little world. Of course she would notice the attention from Elias; Jon’s flattered by it, even if he stammers his way through every interaction. Elias seems to find this amusing, but Jon wants to impress him. 

Though not at the cost of his friendship with Sasha. “I always mention your work to him. I’m rubbish with technology, but you-” She rolls her eyes.

“Don’t, he’ll see right through that. Manipulation’s not your strong suit.” Jon stares down at his rapidly cooling drink, an embarrassed flush spreading across his features. But her hand reaches out to grasp his and a fond smile lights her features. “Thank you, though. It’s sweet of you.”

Jon likes Sasha. Their personalities occasionally clash, but never for too long. Jon’s quick to forgive and Sasha’s too fond to hold a grudge, though she’s loath to admit it. So when her roommate suddenly moves out and she’s left in a bind, it’s only natural for Jon to take her place. He’s been rent-poor, living paycheck to paycheck in a shitty studio that’s still an hour’s commute. Sasha’s closer and her flat’s substantially nicer; she offers and he accepts, easy as that. It’s a practical move, and Jon has to admit his lonely little flat is starting to feel suffocating. 

They fit together easily, like pieces of puzzle slotting in place. Sasha’s brutally efficient in her personal matters; bills and maintenance that Jon finds overwhelming and confounding she takes care of with ease. He’s heard her on the phone in that light, practiced tone of hers as she casually threatens the landlord for necessary repairs. Jon finds himself relaxing bit by bit, feeling comfortable in his own skin as she snarks at the dinner table over a dish he’s made. He used to cook for Georgie like this. Now he cooks for Sasha.

“You’re good at this,” she comments one night over chana masala. “Loads better than the frozen meals I’m used to.”

“It’s nice, having someone to cook for. Harder to do it for one.” He feels a bit uncomfortable with the admission, though he knows he shouldn’t - this is what it’s like, when you love someone.

He’s never said that to her, of course. He gets attached too easily but never knows quite how to show it. And it’s not his usual sort of love, he doesn’t want to date her. She’s more than a friend, and Jon’s never had many of those; he has no metric to measure this against. He thinks he could stay in this flat with her forever, so long as he could see her smile every morning and yawn every night. 

On a Saturday morning she stumbles out of bed and makes her way over to the kitchen. “Morning,” she grumbles, as she reaches for the coffee pot and kisses his forehead. Jon doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to.

On a Wednesday night Jon drinks too much. 

“Sasha,” he slurs, her arm the only thing keeping him from falling off his stool. “I want you t’ know…”

She smiles indulgently, takes a sip of her drink. “Yes, dear?”

“I-I love you.” She pauses and Jon’s heart drops. “N-Not like that, but like friends. Good friends. Very good friends. But m-maybe not.” She’s still smiling, that’s got to be a good sign, right? “I-I just love you, okay?”

And then she laughs, puts an arm around his shoulder and pulls him close. “I love you too. Stay with me forever, okay?”

He takes her hand between his and promises, with all the solemnity a drunken man can muster, that he’ll stay with her forever and then some. The next morning, while they’re both nursing massive hangovers, Jon broaches the subject again.

“Did you mean it?” he asks tentatively, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. “What you said last night. Do- do you want me to stay forever?” She turns to look at him, bleary eyes suddenly alert.

“Yes.” There’s no tease in her words as she leans into his side, a warm weight on his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever meant anything more.”

Jon stays.

______

Two years later, Tim joins the Institute.

He’s handsome; charming, but subdued. He’s been assigned a desk near theirs, invading the quiet little corner that had become their world. Tim greets them both with a smile and a perfunctory handshake before settling down at his desk and powering up his laptop. He doesn’t speak to them again.

Jon watches as he goes back and forth between circulation and his desk, building an impressive stack of books- The Pantomime Life of Joseph Grimaldi, The Congress of Clowns and Other Russian Circus Acts. Sasha told him he worked in publishing, Jon knows she got that information through her usual nefarious means. Perhaps he’s writing a book, Jon says. Sasha thinks otherwise.

“He’s one of those,” she says over sandwiches and tea. She invited Tim, but had been turned down with an apologetic smile. 

“Hmm?”

“Like you.” She sets her drink down, eyes him with her steady gaze. “He’s got a reason.”

Mr. Spider doesn’t like it.

Jon shivers at the reminder. Sasha never brought it up after he initially confided in her one vulnerable night last year; she just held him through the shaking and the tears. He’s only told the story twice; once at eight, again at twenty five. It never got easier.

“No one believed me,” he whispered, tucking his face into her shoulder as his body itched from phantom legs skittering across skin. She squeezed him back.

“I do.”

They’re friendly enough to Tim, giving him his distance while still trying to be helpful. Jon points him in the direction of texts and scholars who might be useful, Sasha teaches him a few of her more invasive tricks that Jon refused to learn. Slowly, bit by bit, he opens up. Never shares his story, no- but he smiles, jokes around with them, accompanies them on their lunch breaks and eventually entices them to after work drinks. 

He’s handsome when he smiles, Jon thinks to himself as Tim regales them with stories of dates gone wrong. Sasha catches his eye and winks. He wonders if she’ll tire of Jon now that Tim’s around. He’s everything Jon’s not; good-looking, confident, secure in his intelligence. Sasha laughs so freely around him. He could ground her where Jon cannot- they can be a chaotic force, the two of them. It’s why they keep to themselves.

But at the end of the night it’s Jon’s hand she takes, swinging it gently with hers. “Stay with me forever?”

He smiles. “Forever.”

They invite him over to their flat one night in spring, when the trees are blossoming and Jon’s allergies are acting up. He’s sniffling miserably on the couch, Tim sprawled next to him as Sasha pours some wine. Despite his misery, Jon’s content.

Tim nudges him with his foot. “So what’s your deal?” he asks in a wheedling tone, though his smirk betrays an almost imperceptible anxiety. It’s strange. “You and Sash. Dating, roomies…?”

It’s Sasha who answers, handing Jon a glass of wine and standing before Tim, tall and proud. “Jon’s my partner.” It’s matter of fact, and Jon can’t help the warmth that floods him. “We’re not dating. I’m not interested in that.” She hands him his glass with a smirk. “But if you want to romance Jon, feel free.”

Jon sputters as she laughs- he’s transparent, as usual. They’d talked about it briefly- Sasha’s fine with him dating other people, but Jon’s never felt the need to. Sasha’s enough. She still is, but he can’t deny the way his heart swoops whenever Tim aims that smile in his direction. Sasha likes him too, in her own way.

Tim’s still gaping at them and Jon can’t help but join in on the laughter, as embarrassed as he feels. “Is the great Timothy Stoker nervous?” Sasha says in between giggles. “Guess we know how to shut him up now.”

“L-Look, can you blame me?” Tim says, a smile growing on his face. “You two can be very intimidating, not to mention gorgeous-”

Jon kicks at his leg. “Don’t joke.”

“No, we are.” Sasha interrupts, daring him to disagree. She turns that deadly smile back on Tim, delighting in his falter. “So what’ll it be, Stoker?”

There’s silence, Jon can feel his heart racing. They’ve got this all wrong, Tim doesn’t want him, Tim’s going to leave, Tim doesn’t understand-

“Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?”

Jon blinks. “Uh, yes?”

“He likes Thai!” Sasha calls as she walks over to her bedroom, leaving the two of them on the couch, laughing nervously. 

“So you’re bi, then?” Tim asks, scooting closer to Jon and throwing a blanket over their legs and an arm around his shoulder. It’s warm in all the right ways and Jon leans closer, the awkwardness dissipating at the touch of his hand. 

“I prefer pan,” he replies. It’s the first term that felt right to him. Georgie used to make some stupid joke about a ‘gender buffet’ and him ‘having one of everything.’ It still makes him smile. “And- and you should know I’m also ace. So there’s some things I won’t be able to do for you.” He looks for disappointment in Tim’s eyes and finds none. “I hope that’s alright.”

“Of course.” Tim smiles like he means the words and Jon feels light, almost dizzy. “Are kisses alright?”

He nods shyly, and Tim takes this as his cue to pepper him in obnoxiously loud smooches- one in his hair, another on his nose. Jon manages to bat him away after Tim almost gets him in the eye. 

So Tim and Jon are dating. Tim takes him out to dinner, the movies, one memorable night of karaoke. Sasha joins in when she wants; they go to museums and lectures. One night she laces her fingers through Tim’s, smiling at his wide eyes.

“What?” she says innocently, doing the same with Jon. “I’ve got two hands.”

On Wednesday nights Tim goes to the gym. Jon sits at the table, passes Sasha a bowl of reheated spaghetti before settling down in his chair. He fidgets, not touching his fork.

“What is it?” Sasha asks, setting her own fork down. “You’ve got that look on your face.”

“I-” he stutters, sighing as the words won’t come. Just tell her like you practiced. “I’m not trying to, well- hmm. I don’t want to insinuate anything-”

“You would never.”

“But, I’ve noticed- I’m not- Tim is very handsome.”

Sasha smiles indulgently. “Mhm. Go on.”

“And I’ve noticed. I don’t- if you wanted to-” Goddamnit. Pull yourself together. “I wouldn’t mind it, if you were to - that is, if you’d like to engage in-” He closes his eyes, purses his lips in frustration. “Please stop me.”

“Why Jon,” she replies, her voice coy and teasing. “Are you giving me your blessing?”

Jon sighs, his face warming as he opens one eye- she’s grinning, just as he expected. “...Yes?”

Six months later, Tim moves in.

_______

“Jon wants to bring a boy home!”

Jon smacks him in the arm and scowls. “Tim, don’t-”

“What, it’s true!” He leans back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Jon wants to knock the smile off his face and maybe onto the floor, if he can get a good kick in. “I don’t blame you and in fact, I encourage it. Martin’s a catch-”

“Martin?” Sasha perks up. “Finally!”

“Not you too-”

“Jon, he’s a very sweet boy-”

“-good-looking, too!”

“And if you want to bring him over, please do.” She reaches across the table to give his hand an encouraging, if condescending, squeeze. “I’ve seen the way you look at each other.”

“But what if-” Once again, Jon struggles to find the right words. He knows their situation is unorthodox to most people, and the thought of Martin looking at him differently is too much to bear. “What if he doesn’t understand?”

“Then explain it to him,” Sasha relays patiently, her hand never leaving his. Things are always so clear to her, Jon envies that. “You’re my partners, you’re dating Tim, sometimes me and Tim have-”

“I don’t think I’ll need to go into that much detail just yet,” Jon cuts her off, ignoring Tim’s snicker. “It’s just...what if he thinks it's weird?”

“Weird can be good. And if he doesn’t agree, well - he’s not worth your time.”

If only it were that simple.

It’s been about three months since he first ran into Martin in the break room. He’d seen him around plenty of times, but despite his hulking form, the man can make himself very, very small. It wasn’t until he quite literally ran into him, causing him to drop his newly organized files, that Jon got a good look at his face.

It was a nice face. Soft, kind, with big blue eyes and curly red hair that fell across his forehead. He wanted to touch it, tuck it behind Martin’s ear and he almost did, despite the man’s rambling apologies and meek demeanor. He stood there, frozen, even as Martin handed back the file with a bashful smile.

“Sorry, I’m pretty clumsy. Are you alright?”

Jon was fine. He should probably say that.

“Y-Yes. I’m Jon.” Wow. Smooth.

“I know.” Martin put a hand behind his neck, nervously chuckling. “You’re quite known around these parts.” His eyes widened and his face turned red. A nice red. “N-Not in a bad way, of course! You’re- you’re just very smart and- and direct- and oh Lord, that’s not a compliment, is it-”

“Thank you for my file,” Jon replied robotically, his eyes trained somewhere over Martin’s shoulder and not on his very, very blue eyes. “I have to take my leave now.” Why are you talking like this?

Their next few encounters were similarly stunted and awkward. Martin made tea at ten every morning, coincidentally when Jon got his yogurt from the fridge. He started making Jon a cup as well; he wasn’t sure if Martin was particularly excellent at making tea, or if it just mattered that he was the one making it. Jon tried not to dwell on the sentimentality of it all. 

He shouldn’t want another partner. He’s got Sasha, who he loves, and Tim, who he also loves, albeit in a different way. They should be enough for him. They are enough. But Martin makes him tea and asks him how his day is going and smiles at him and people don’t do that. He tells himself he just wants a friend, but he finds his mind wandering- Martin’s hand in his while they walk down the street, Jon nestled into his side on a movie night and Tim’s there too, because Martin is very comfy and handsome and warm. Sasha’s in her armchair reading a book because tonight they’re watching a romantic comedy and she hates those. Jon hates them too but Martin likes them, of course Martin likes them-

No. He’s getting distracted. And he’s standing in front of Martin like an idiot, saying nothing. This is going terribly. Why did he ever think this would not go terribly-

“Jon? Are you alright? You look like you’re about to have a stroke.”

“I’m not having a stroke,” Jon responds on auto-pilot. “I’m trying to think of a clever way to ask you out but you are very distracting.”

Shit. Martin stares at him, mouth open in shock. He’s got nice teeth. Very straight.

“Um- I-I thought you were with Tim?” Martin squeaks out. Oh God, I’ve scared him. Do I keep going? “Or- or Sasha, oh! I’m not accusing you of -”

“No, you’re correct,” Jon grinds out, willing himself to be calm. He doesn’t want Martin to think his frustration is aimed at him. “Sasha’s my partner and I’m dating Tim, and sometimes Sasha and Tim-” No! Abort! “-sorry. We’re together. But, um, I-I also like you, and I think Tim likes you but he hasn’t said- I’m sorry, this is going all wrong.” He looks down at the floor, clenching his jaw. “I understand if you say no.”

“I’m not saying no,” Martin’s voice is lower now and Jon feels a hope rise in his chest. He’s not? “So it’s, it’s like an open thing? You’re accepting applications?” Jon would laugh at the joke if he weren’t so paralyzed with fear.

“Not really? It’s, we aren’t dating around or anything, but I suppose it is open, in a way.” He pauses, takes a deep breath. “Open for you.”

Martin’s smiling like he can’t believe his luck, and it confuses Jon because who wouldn’t want him? Kind, handsome Martin who makes him tea and doesn’t laugh at his stupid jokes but rolls his eyes affectionately and tells his own in turn. Jon doesn’t think he’ll ever understand his humor but it makes him smile and that’s important. And now Martin’s taking his hand and he- oh fuck Martin’s taking his hand Martin’s got his hand and it’s warm, just like he knew it would be-

“I-I think I’d like that.” A squeeze. Jon dies but only a little. “Wow, this is sort of crazy for me, y’know? You’re all so, so intimidating and good-looking-”

“Yes, we are,” Jon agrees, squeezing his hand back. “But we’d like to buy you dinner, if you’re amenable.” Martin laughs and says yes, he’s very, very amenable. It feels right holding Martin’s hand. It feels right to see him with Tim and Sasha, smiling and joking. It feels right to lean into him at the end of the day, to nudge his side in the night and apologize in the morning.

Martin’s lease expires in seven months. They start looking for a new apartment after three.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29032062

[harrylee94]

The Tournament - Chapter 1

You can find this on AO3!

Summary: "This kingdom was a large one, ruled by whom many would call a fair and just ruler; the Witch King. This title was passed down from generation to generation, as was the way of monarchies, but upon them was also bestowed a second. Over the years there had been many Mand’alors -- Mand’alor the Ultimate, Mand’alor the Blessed, Mand’alor the Vindicated -- but this one was Mand’alor the Beloved. They were also Din’s buir.

And they were dying."

It is known that when a new Witch King comes to the throne they are in need of a Protector, and in order to find this Protector there must be a tournament.

Notes: I blame the TIOOIW DinCobb Discord for this. It's all you fault. You know who you are! *squints eyes at you*

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

"Thus ends the reign of Mand’alor the Beloved" - Din

The day was cold and damp, the sky grey and threatening rain, though the ground was still slick from the downpour the night before, and the well walked paths that were unfortunate enough not to be paved with wood or stone were doing their best to imitate a bog. Din held back a shiver as he looked over the parapet, watching men carry great logs in through the gatehouse. There were a great number of them, mostly beech and pine, but he knew they had to be ready, even if he was not.

This kingdom was a large one, ruled by whom many would call a fair and just ruler; the Witch King. This title was passed down from generation to generation, as was the way of monarchies, but upon them was also bestowed a second. Over the years there had been many Mand’alors -- Mand’alor the Ultimate, Mand’alor the Blessed, Mand’alor the Vindicated -- but this one was Mand’alor the Beloved. They were also Din’s buir.

And they were dying.

He took a deep breath and looked up at the sky, the clouds dark and the wind tugging at his cloak. His buir had well earned their title, using her status and resources to help rebuild the kingdom after the war her predecessor, Mand’alor the Insatiable, had pulled them into. She had spoken to the people, learned their stories, and she acted on them. There were more schools, more medical facilities, a patrol of guards in every town, and a system of communication even to the smallest hamlet.

There had been difficulties, of course. Some of the Lords and Clan Chiefs had not liked how their smallfolk were being given greater attention than they, nor how they were having to adjust to this new way of thinking, and unfortunately a number of them hadn’t, but Mand’alor the Beloved had believed in her cause, and Din had too.

He looked down to the stables, the structure built into the walls of the castle, and smiled his first smile for some days. He could just see a flash of the silver hair of the stable hand working in the stalls as he cared for the creatures. Din had little chance to speak to those outside of his immediate circle at court these days, but once upon a time he would take the chance to talk to everyone, from his tailors to the girl who stoked the fire in the mornings. Cobb Vanth was one of the few whom he had truly enjoyed the company of, short though it had always been, and the memory of those times gave him some light to cling onto in this dark time.

His smile had always been earnest and true, and Din had spent so long surrounded by the pageantry of court that he felt he could be himself around the stable hand.

But now those days were gone, and the inevitable had arrived.

The Witch King was dying, and while the weather itself knew it, few others did. There was speculation of course, Din had heard the whispers of servants and courtiers, but nothing to confirm their suspicions. He, however, did not have the luxury of doubt in this matter.

The title of Witch King, while intimidating, was not merely for show; there was a magic in the line of Mand’alors, one passed from buir to ad, through blood or by ritual, and it tingled under Din’s skin. His own magic had always been small, a weakness for the Lords and Chiefs to exploit and look down upon, even though they had no true magic of their own. His buir had never lost faith in him though, and so, while the occasional taunt stung, he never forgot who he was.

In this moment, however, he wished he could, his skin prickling like the oncoming storm was already here as the magic inside him swelled in anticipation. He’d been in a constant state of hypertension for day. His body ached and his eyes stung from the lack of sleep, but preparations had to be made. He sighed in relief when the last of the timbers were set in the hall, and he nodded to each of the woodsmen as they passed back through the gatehouse, each clutching a bag of coin from their payment and smiles on their faces.

Din looked to the stables again, unable to keep his eyes away, and froze as his gaze caught on that of a silver haired man’s.

Cobb Vanth looked up at him like he knew him, like he knew every deep dark secret that there had ever been orevery would be, and still there was a softness and a sympathy to that gaze, something warm and comforting, without judgement or scorn. There were no smiles today, only a solemn press of his lips, but somehow it was what he needed. Cobb nodded at him -- in a deferential manner of course, but also in acknowledgement and support -- and Din returned it before forcing himself to turn away. He couldn’t allow himself to get lost in a fantasy today.

Taking a deep breath, Din walked the stretch of walkway to the stairs, heading down into the main ward. Mud splashed on his boots as he walked towards the smithy, hoping to check on the progress of the nails, but the quick patter of footsteps pulled him up short.

"My prince!"

A servant was rushing towards him, his balance in the mud tenuous at best, and Din reached out to stabilise him as he gasped.

"My prince," the servant said again, and Din recognised him as a new kitchen hand, though he'd not yet had the chance to learn his name. "Your… The Mand'alor… She requests your presence in the war room."

Din could see sorrow in the lad's eyes, and he swallowed thickly. "Thank you," he said around the lump in his throat. "I'll be there immediately."

The servant nodded again and stepped away. He could feel eyes on him, people watching, the whispers already beginning to circulate, but he ignored them as he tried to ignore his grief, and he made his way into the castle.

The corridors, strewn with reed mats and tapestries depicting the history of his line, had always held a warmth for him in his youth. Even up to the week before it had been a comfort, and the physical warmth the fabric gave from protecting the air against the cold of the stone walls was equally precious. Now the eyes of past Witch Kings looked down on him in judgement, and he shuffled past them as quickly as he dared, eyes forward and steps clipped. The servants he passed bowed or curtseyed as he pressed, but he hadn't the time to return it. The magic in his bones was throbbing to the beat of his heart, urging him, tugging him onwards, and he couldn't risk missing…

The doors to the war room were small, much as all but the main doors were in the castle, but they were carved with the skull of the great mythosaur. It was an intimidating sight, but Din knocked the wood, forcing himself not to fidget as he stood in place.

"Enter."

The hinges were well kept, but there was enough age to them that they creeked a warning whenever someone opened the door, and it made Din wince as he stepped through, closing the door securely behind him.

The war room was not an overly large room, and the windows were small and high in the walls. Very little natural light ever entered the enclosed space, and the lack of tapestries made it especially cold. That wasn't to say that the walls were bare; there were shelves of books, scrolls and maps across two of the walls, drawers below filled with carved pieces for the war games and strategies that had been frequently plotted at the table that sat in the centre of the room. The banner of the Witch King and the banner of the current Mand'alor hung from hooks against the far wall, beneath which was displayed a small collection of ancient weapons, each one well taken care of and just as lethal as the day they'd been forged. Oil lamps and sconces, all lit and flickering their warm light, were spaced carefully in buckets of sand around the room, a precaution to protect the precious paper and parchment.

Din had been in this room many times; his lessons had spanned a great many things, but it was his buir who taught him the art of war, and it was here that she shared her wisdom. Never had he seen a chair here before though, especially not the large seat on which his buir sat, encased in her ceremonial armour and finest clothes. At her left shoulder stood her Protector, hand curled about the sword at her hip as she watched Din approach. Their helms sat on the unusually clear table, but their faces were almost as unreadable as they would have been with them on.

Kovra, Mand’alor the Beloved, had deep shadows under her eyes, her skin was wan, paler than Din had seen it before the Sickness had taken her, but there was not a hair out of place, and she looked as immovable as a statue. There was a brief flicker of warmth in her gaze when she looked at him, but then it was gone and only the Witch King remained.

The air around them sang, the magic of their line swirling about them like a wind that only touched the two of them, and Din followed its eager nudges to kneel before his King.

“Din Djarin,” the Witch King said, her voice strong and full of power, “Prince of Mandalore, child of my heart, you come before me now to take up the mantle which I have carried these many years. Are you prepared?”

Din took a shuddering breath as the magic around them swelled. “I am prepared.”

The Witch King nodded and turned to her Protector. “Saruk Kerta, Protector of the Witch King, Knight and Verd of the Kingdom of Mandalore, you are here to bear witness. Are you prepared?”

Saruk bowed deeply. “I am prepared, Mand’alor.”

The Witch King nodded again and turned back to Din, holding her arm out to him. He took it, grasping it in a warrior’s greeting, and he blinked back tears from the knowledge that the warmth he could feel would cool.

“Din Djarin,” the Witch King continued, her fingers curling into his elbow, “Are you prepared to govern and protect the people of Mandalore, be they from low or high birth, whatever their creed?”

“I am prepared,” Din said, ignoring the tear that had slipped from his eye.

“Will you ensure that the laws of this land are followed by all, that you yourself will maintain and execute them should the need arise, and that your justice and mercy will abide by these laws?”

“I shall ensure this.”

“And will you, as the new Witch King of Mandalore, respect the magic of our line, use it sparingly, in the protection of others, and only in dire need, and respect its needs?”

“I will respect the magic of our line.”

These were the vows he would have to repeat before hundreds of witnesses in a few days time, but here and now they were the most potent. Here they meant more than just a promise of words, it was an oath made with magic as his witness. If he broke it, the magic would abandon him, as it had Mand’alor the Lesser when he’d attempted to use it for his own gains.

The Witch King nodded again as the magic around them rang in acceptance of his vows, and turned to her Protector.

“Saruk Kerta, do you accept the responsibility of Protector for Din Djarin until the search for his own Protector has been completed?”

“I do accept this responsibility,” Saruk replied.

There was a pause, the hairs on the back of Din’s neck rising as the swirling magic froze with them, the moment spreading out into eternity. He dared not even breathe lest the sound break the spell. It was as though the entire world was holding its breath with him, waiting for the verdict.

The Witch King smiled, and Kovra, buir to Din Djarin, leaned forwards to press a kiss to his brow.

“Thus ends the reign of Mand’alor the Beloved,” she whispered, the Sickness thick in her voice once more. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner ad. Ni kelir ration kuyir ti gar.”

With her next exhale her body went taught, her fingers digging deep into Din’s arm, hard enough to bruise. He almost cried out in fear for her, but his voice was caught in his throat as an intense power rushed into him through her grip. It was as though he was being warmed by a fire after spending a day in the cold, like the Battle Fever was on him, and like he was stood in the midst of a storm on the tallest peak with his full suit of armour on, all at once. It throbbed through him, his own small well of magic deepening from a quiet vibration into a deep hum. It settled deep into him, into his bones, until it felt as much a part of him as his own thoughts.

And then his buir went limp, her weight falling against him as her last breath left her. Curling his arms around her, feeling for any sign of life and finding none, Din sobbed at the loss of his mother.

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

Mando'a Translations:

biur - parent Verd - soldier/warrior Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner ad. Ni kelir ration kuyir ti gar. - I love you, my child. I will always be with you.

Link to Chapter 2

[mimicteruyo]

Heaven of Ashes

[Touhou Ship Week Day 6: Future. AkyuSuzu*, 2k, angst]

---

The sand was fine, the wind was warm, and Hieda no Ajuu built sandcastles.

It was her fourth attempt of the day, and the most successful one yet. She patted more wet sand onto the structure, her tied-back sleeves still damp following their accidental immersion into the inland sea that covered most of Gensokyo these days. It was a childish activity, both according to her physical age — thirty as of the previous week — let alone according to all her lifespans chained together, but it helped. Working with her hands, allowing the mundane task to occupy her foremost attention, made her feel just a little more solid, a little less like she was buried beneath the surf and being ever so slowly torn apart by the currents.

She heard the flutter of wings first, followed by the more recognisable soft thud of landing. Footsteps came next, joining the beat of the lapping waves and distant cicada cries.

Danger, a primordial part of Ajuu's brain chimed in. The part of her which had time to think, which had walked and swam and flown across the half-submerged Gensokyo for three decades, finished smoothing out the edges of the castle before standing up. "Welcome back."

Ahead of her was a looming, moving shadow against a backdrop of mist. Losing her sight had been a bitter pill to swallow, even taking into account the years of advance warnings. At least she didn't need eyes to recognise the familiar gait, to feel the familiar presence come up to her, to hear the voice which had been so dear to her in a past life and which had become so all over again in this one as well.

"I found some great food today!" Kosuzu's shadow wavered, the edges of her silhouette collapsing. Carefully wrapped rice balls found their way into Ajuu's sand-encrusted hands. "With lotus and taro, just how you like them."

"Thank you." Ajuu sat down and placed the parcels on her lap before wiping and finally clapping her hands clean. It was an imperfect effort — just how many kernels of sand remained underneath her fingernails? — but it would do. What damage could eating anything less noxious than fast-acting poison do to her at this hour?

It took her a while to unwrap the food. She enjoyed the challenge, this ritual of puzzle, secure in the knowledge that should she falter, Kosuzu would slice the food free without a moment's hesitation, more careful and efficient with her talons than most beings were with their fingers.

In any case, Ajuu succeeded. The food was indeed good. She didn't sense flavours as she once had, but her memories filled the gaps in her perception. She swallowed before she spoke, paying homage to the human parts of her upbringing. "Would you like the other one?"

"No, thank you. I already ate." The waver of guilt in Kosuzu's voice was unnecessary, but Ajuu was grateful for the courtesy otherwise. There was a difference between knowing on an intellectual level what Kosuzu sometimes ate and hearing her feeding first-hand.

The wind grew stronger, a forerunner of not just autumn, but the distant winter. Ajuu didn't mind it and ate in peace until a soft exclamation escaped Kosuzu's lips. She looked up. "What's wrong?"

"Your castle." When Ajuu said nothing, Kosuzu continued. "The wave swept it away."

Ajuu continued chewing as she processed this. As she swallowed, she felt something previously unacknowledged within her resolve itself. "It's fine. It was an unlucky one, anyway."

Following the meal, she and Kosuzu walked around their island, sticking to the shoreline where they could. Ajuu no longer felt sunlight on her skin, but the warmth of the day had yet to recede. The insects of eventide droned on in the trees and bushes and in the air itself, beyond Ajuu's other senses but impossible to ignore. Her resolution continued to revolve within her, moving ahead notch by notch, waiting to be spoken aloud.

Ajuu halted. Time waited for no-one. "Can you see a place where we might sit down?"

"Sure. I'll take your hand."

Ajuu allowed herself to be lead aside and seated onto a sun-warmed rock by gentle talons which could pulverise bone. Kosuzu settled down right next to her. Whether it was due to necessity owing to the rock's size or Kosuzu's desire to be near her, Ajuu appreciated the intimacy.

"You have something weighing on your mind." It wasn't a question. Kosuzu had always been intelligent, and her youthful rashness had long since given way to insight brought on by both experience and forbidden knowledge.

Ajuu nodded. "It's about our future."

Kosuzu waited.

"I have roughly two weeks remaining. Perhaps three. Either way, I won't live to the next full moon."

Kosuzu squeezed her hand. It was the only acknowledgement necessary. After all, they had both known Ajuu's time was running out.

"I'll take care of the final arrangements tomorrow. After that, it's all settled and I can concentrate on living." Ajuu breathed in. It was time for the impossible part, made possible by her need to protect who she loved. "After I die, you shouldn't wait for my next reincarnation. In fact, I don't think you should seek me out at all."

The pressure on her hand was expected, as was the ripple of shock shuddering into her through the touch. What Ajuu hadn't expected was how quiet and flat Kosuzu's voice was when she next spoke. "Why?"

Ajuu took a deep breath for composure's sake, then another. A third one would have been cruelty, and so she made herself. "Because when I return, I will once again grow to be a different person. Even assuming we will survive to meet again, there is no guarantee things will be as they are now."

"I understand that. But you'll remember me. There's a lot more about me in the Chronicle now than there was before, and you remembered me just fine last time."

"You're right. I will remember you. But knowledge can only guide our emotions instead of controlling them." Ajuu shifted. There was an uncomfortable bump in the rock close to her tailbone, and she leaned into Kosuzu to escape it. The arm that settled around her was blessedly warm. "It seems almost impossible right now, but it could still happen. Even if I do believe I will fall in love with you over and over again, it's still possible for my heart to go elsewhere. It's equally possible you won't love or even like the person I will become."

"That's never going to happen."

"I don't want to trap you in your memories."

The arm around her stiffened. After a long pause, Kosuzu removed it and helped Ajuu back to her feet.

They kept walking. Ajuu went along, her heart heavier than it had been before. Hadn't she spoken to clear the air? To unshackle Kosuzu before she chained herself to Ajuu for another long wait, chained herself to stone that might — could — would —  crumble beneath her feet?

"You don't have to keep treating me like a child." Kosuzu paused just for a moment before she kept speaking, so quiet Ajuu had to strain to catch her words. "I haven't been one in a long while."

"I understand that." Even as she said that, Ajuu wondered if she truly did understand. She knew, of course, of what Kosuzu had done to become what she was now, and she knew too it was unlikely to be pure luck which had allowed Ajuu to live in the wilderness on and off for her entire life without any harm befalling her. Even so, she struggled to reconcile these ideas with her image of Kosuzu; Kosuzu, who had lost none of her optimism or curiosity upon becoming a youkai; Kosuzu, who treated her with unswerving kindness; Kosuzu, whom she could even now sense smiling.

"But maybe you're right. Maybe I'm still a little naive. Because even though I know nothing lasts forever and that I might not even live to see your next reincarnation," Kosuzu halted and guided Ajuu around an obstacle on the path, "even though I know all that, I want to hold out hope that we'll meet again. Even if things are completely different next time."

They had circled around and returned to the beach. Kosuzu let go of Ajuu, and so Ajuu made her own way to the water, walking across the fine sand that yielded underneath even the lightest foothold. She faced the bay, savouring the cool richness of the wind rushing against her skin.

She grew serious as she heard Kosuzu approach. "I've insulted you."

"You didn't, really." Kosuzu's words grew wistful. "The truth is, when I first decided to wait for you I did think of it like it was a fairy tale. That one day you'd walk out of the ocean just like you were in my final memories of you. I knew it was impossible, of course, but I still kept dreaming about that moment."

Ajuu couldn't help but sigh. "I understand the sentiment."

"That was how it began. But... while I waited, I think I grew up. For a second time, I mean. I realised that my dream was just a dream and that I didn't actually have any idea what was going to happen when you were reborn. The only thing I was sure about was that it would be different from what I thought. I didn't even know if you would recognise me as a youkai."

It struck Ajuu as very odd that Kosuzu had never mentioned any of this before. It sounded like the truth, all the same. "But you still waited."

"Of course! I just began to think about it differently. That at most I'd hope to be your friend. Someone who could help you with your work and help keep you safe. And if you wanted nothing to do with me... I would have to accept that I might end up being in pain."

Ajuu closed her eyes from the wavering shadows and looked instead at her memories, rendered in perfect vivid colours. The guileless, hopeful smile of the girl who had become a youkai to be able to meet Ajuu. The youkai who had watched over Ajuu while still giving her space, who had allowed her to see so much of Gensokyo normally inaccessible to humans. The woman who had been so startled when Ajuu, now a woman herself, had cupped her face with her hands and kissed her.

"I already knew," she finally said, stunned by the revelation. "I couldn't have not known. Then how..."

She didn't need to see Kosuzu to hear the smile in her voice. "For someone with such a perfect memory, you can be pretty forgetful."

"Oh, hush." But Ajuu couldn't help but smile as she realised just who had been trapped in her memories. Ah, vanity.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're right."

The wind blowing from the bay redoubled its efforts. Ajuu closed her eyes to keep her fringe from flying into them. "I understand now. I won't tell you what to do. If you wish to wait, then you'll wait."

"And whatever happens, happens." Kosuzu's taloned hand slipped into Ajuu's, smooth as feathers. "But right now, what I want more than anything else in the world is to spend as much time with Hieda no Ajuu as possible."

There were a few advantages to losing one's eyesight. The enhancement to Ajuu's sense of touch made the experience of embracing Kosuzu and feeling her wings enfold around her all the more vibrant.

They remained on the beach long after night fell. There was still time to build another sandcastle together.

[popculturebuffet]

Star Vs: Total Eclipsa the Moon and Butterfly Trap (Tomtrsopective Interlude)

Hello you beautiful people, and welcome back to the tomtrospective... minus Tom, since as i’ve mentioned a LOT in recent parts of this tribute to eveyrone’s faviorite demon voiced by shawn from boy meets world, realized I hadn’t mentioned that in a while, I”m also covering the metora arc from the second half of season 3, as Tom plays a pretty sizeable roll in it’s climax , the season 3 two part finale Divide and Conquer, and if i’m going to cover what’s essentially an hour long episode i’m going to do it right. It’s why i’m also doing the della arc alongside the Lena arc next month, the latter of which is fully paid for: because Shadow War pays that off too. Even if it makes way more work for me, if i’m going to review something, i’m gonna do it right. So we come to this pair of episodes.  First question a lot of you might be having... 

To which I say.. I ? We’ll see. The second is that “Why aren’t you covering the bog beast of boggabah?”. Well.. honestly it’s for time constraints. I have a LOT of episodes to cover, my own fault I know but again if you do a job you do it right, and cutting the one that while part of the plot isn’t nearly as essential to anything and ultimately only sticks for one episode character development wise. It’s not bad, almost nothing with Alan Tudyk in it is bad. That’s a fact, that’s a Disney fact. 

Point is while I like covering EVERYTHING I can, I do have to draw a line and since this retrospective is about TOM, i’d rather not pile on more episodes that don’t involve him than absolutley necessary. Bog Beast just dosen’t feel NEARLY as much of a necessary detour as these two coming up or Skooled and Tough Love down the line.  So with all that out of the way, join me under the cut for a discussion of Eclipsa’s character up to these episodes and the episodes themselves. 

Our detour DOES take us right into my OTHER faviorite character in the series, tied with tom and the other character that makes watching the series post battle of mewni, worthwhile: Eclipsa. We’ve mentioned her before obviously but this is the first episode she actually shows up in that i’m covered, and i’m delighted to finally tackle her head on. And the other faviorite thing isn’t an exageration: She’s equal to tom in my heart. She’s just as compelling, just as well acted, and unlike Tom actually gets a decent resolution to her character arc. In fact she’s one of the ONLY characters to get a decent resolution.  It’s also at this point her character undergoes a shift. While she dosen’t change as a person that much, before this it was left purposfully vauge if Eclipsa was really.. evil, and possibly the big bad of the season. On the one hand her magic is unquestionably dark and evil even if she isn’t, and while Star wasn’t at all effected by her chapter, Marco went all 

For a second before Glossaryck fixed it off screen, and using her “Darkest Spell” left both her and moon with blackened goop on their arms for the rest of their lives. Not only that but she pushed Star into morally dubious actions: Teling her Marco could be her squire simply because she said so, and being the one that encouraged her to explore her butterfly form. 

But we also saw her GENUINELY bond with Star, the two relating both on seeing monsters as people, and dating them, and on being reckless, powerful and often looked down upon by Moon for unfair reasons. Something I hadn’t realized but shoudl’ve before this is, for Season 3 at least.. Eclipsa is the mentor star never properly had. Glossaryck, while he did do a decent job from time to time, is just too damn neutral to be a proper mentor, not really carring what happens to mewni or if he even lives or dies, a neglectful attitude that honestly caused a good chunk of Mewni’s problems, never remotely trying to invervene in his protege Solaria’s genocidal campaign against monsters, his children’s growing fantatical racisim, or well.. anything. He just dosen’t care.  Moon TRIED to be one, and can be a good mother on occasion.. but the two are exact opposites: Moon is controlled in every aspect of her life and compartmentalizes and structures everything, while Star is pure chaos and impulse. It’s why River has an easier time parenting her, as she got a LOT more of his personality than her mothers, and thus can actually relate to her. Bog Beast shows this off well: He teaches her a lesson Moon probably has tried to a thousand times, to be patient.. but does so on her level with an old family ritual and using a metaphor, rather than trying to drill it into her head. It’s why when he did actually teach her Glossayrck used the same: Star is just not a traditional learner, moon is. And there in lies the problem.. Moon just cannot accept for most of the series that her daughter isn’t like her despite her best efforts or try to see it on her level, and Star dosen’t really try to see it from Moon’s perspective either, though being you know the Child and not the parent, it’s a bit more understandable. Moon has a real hard time seeing other people’s perspectives, and really changing.. and given Star has gone from being a proud racist to realising how horrible her attiude to monsters were in under a year, really is why the two clash so much. It’s something I sadly relate to: While my own dad is not racist, he is a staunch republican, is one of those morons who belives the “Well if trans people can use the bathroom they want then rapists will put on women’s clothing just to enter a bathroom!” bullshit fully, and while he supports gay people myself included did NOT support gay marraige and when I was a teen would often say “Wellt hat’s as valid as me marrying bob” Bob.. is my dad’s cat who hates me for understandable reasons as I was not great with cats when he got him. So yeah I get your parent being an impenetrable brick wall on important issues. 

The point is Eclipsa...actually listens to star, agrees to her views and instead of trying to FORCE star to go the way she wants simply guides her, giving her advice and being gentle with her. The two are similar enough that Eclipsa’s advice, good or bad, tends to stick, and that Eclipsa actually cares what Star thinks which Moon does not. But it was hard to gage if she GENUINELY cared or was just playing star. But these episodes shred that ambiguity to pieces, showing that while eclipsa is not without faults.. she’s not evil... and the people who called her that very much ARE. So without further adeu....

Total Eclipsa The Moon:

In the previous episode, Star burst into Moon’s room giving her the revelations of the night. Moon.. did not take it well, both unaware and furious her daughter had a party at the monster temple, refusing to believe her and taking umbrage at Star’s VERY understandable accusation that she sent Rhombulus after them, since he had her royal guards with him, levitating her daughter out of the office. 

But what is suprising is that, as this episode opens after brooding a bit and TRYING to get back to work.. Moon clealry can’t get the idea out of her head. You can see the wheels turning: Sure star is impulsive and did falsely accuse her.. but she’s not a liar. While Star hides stuff on occasion.. when she lost the book she came right to her parents to confess, something Moon genuinely appricated. Why would she TRANSPARENTLY make something up? While the trial is close, Star would at least, if sloppily and ucnovncingly try and fake evidence if that was her goal. And while the party isn’t something Moon is happy about it is VERY suspcious Rhombulus didn’t tell her about police action on her terriotry using her own guards involving her daughter, several monsters, and the heirs to every kingdom in the land.  So she takes the Royal Lineage book and goes to see Eclipsa.. who made a guitar out of bones because she’s awesome and that’s what you do when you have a lot of itme on your hands and nothing else to do. 

She’s casual with Moon, who just assumes she’ll get the answer she wants l,  asks her to identify her daughter.. though Eclipsa is taken aback by this. She’s willing to.. she just hasn’t seen her face in thosands of years let alone as a grown woman and assumes she’s dead by now. It’s a very good, very small moment.. and it’s made more striking both by what we learned last episode.. and the fact she has no idea who Festivia is, and knows who her one and only Daughter was: Meteora. And while Moon does bring up that her name just could’ve been changed... Eclipsa shoots that down.. Meteora had clover cheeks and “The cutest little tail”. Moon asks how this even makes sense and Eclipsa’s response is absolutely wonderful “When a queen and a monster love each other very much...”. Before we can get to the sexy details Moon then clarifies that she’s confused how she didn’t know about this and wants answers, though she still keeps Metora still being alive a secret for now.. but it’s understndable as Moon still dosen’t trust Eclipsa, and dosen’t want to risk her trying to escape to find her right before the trial. Eclipsa tells her there is one place they could get a solid answer, the archives, which are in the commission building, though Moon apparently doesn’t have access..despite being queen. You think she would’ve questioned that by now given the name.

But Moon plans to go, and refuses to take Eclipsa along.. but is swayed when Eclipsa genuinely not only accepts it.. but sadly and without any hint of manipultion and with pure honesty asks her to tell her what happened to her daughter. And for the first time... Moon sees Eclipsa as not the boogeyman history wrote her as.. but just another mother desperatley looking for her child and finding out history covered her up and she may never know what happened to her.  So we next cut to the magical high comission building, where we see Shawn, the security guard, deer man and bumbling doofus, who ends up not scanning moon when the magic detector, basicallyu a metal detctor, goes read because she terrifies him out of it. And yeah.. good point she is on the comission he really shoudn’t have to do that. Though I like the sublte hints with this and the archives that the comission have slowly creeped up in thier authority: while the queen is still granted a seat at the table.. she’s not given ALL the toys in the box despite that not really being fair given how much sway the comission has in mewni politics.  But naturally Moon has snuck eclipsa in and even more naturally is nearly having a panic attack over breaking the rules. But she dosen’t have time for that and asks Eclipsa where the archives are. 

She’s not tricking moon or anything though: It’s been thousands of years and the comission building has changed vastly, when she was around the archives were just a stone hut off to the side. That gives Moon an idea and they find a stone wall in the storage room, which Eclipsa activates in her own weird and endearing way.  This also shows off the one trait that seperates Eclipsa from star: Star usually just does random things because. While Eclipsa isn’t IMUNE to this usually when she does something weird it’s specifically to acomplish something, she’s just using her own unique methods. LIke here she rubs her back against the stones and what not.. ut it gets the door open. Unfortuntely our heroines then run into Shawn who being a natural narc, runs off ot tattle before Moon cuts him off. Eclipsa insists they zap his memory and only hasn’t for a crucial reason: she can’t do magic without a wand. It’s an intresting and understandable reveal: like star she just relied on the wand for it and never learned how to do her spells without it as she never really needed to.. and even now she dosen’t. While her magic COULD help her escape.. she has no intrest in escaping since it’d only hurt star and even a sham trial will still make her a martyr for mosnter kind and prove Star’s point she’s not a bad person. Even if she looses she wins. So she simply had no reason to relearn it and likely figured correctly doing so might just rouse further suspicon or get her locked in chains or other nonsense and given she can, if unbenownst to moon, wander the castle freely via the secret passages.. she’s really not bothered by house arrest.  Moon of course dosen’t want to.. but in a great gag ends up doing so by mockingly saying “Memory eraser gun” and making a gun gesture with her hand.. and ends up actually doing that as a result. They put the comotose magic outside. And this scene is a great character bit to me for both characters: It shows off a bit flaw for each character: For moon it’s that she lacks the ablity to improvise. She can and has created magic but is so orderly and regimented it has to be percise and she dosen’t grasp just HOW easily a spell can be created simply by imagining it. She lacks the pure raw creativity and talent of her daughter and supposed ancestor.... but makes up for it in what she calls eclipsa out on: restraint. While Moon has ENTIRELY too much, serioulsy the stick is so far up her ass she can see it when she talks, it’s not itself a bad thing, and using it recklessly and irresponsibly, as the suplmental big boook of spells shows, without thought or without proper preperation can have devistating consequences. Skywinn, one of the past queens and the first in the book, destroyed an entire dimension simply by letting loose far too much, while Rhina, Moon’s great great grandmother, acccidently kileld her abusive husband because her heartbreak spell was a bit too literal. Power is fine and all. but you have to control it. It’s why Xavier’s School Existed before he decided to take all the kids to an island because humanity suck so much: you need to learn to use your pwoer responsibly and eclipsa never did. She can contorl it perfectly as we’ll see.. but she also dosen’t think of the implications of what she does with it, she just does and to hell with the consequences. And that’s really her whole problem: She acts mostly on impulse without thinking, and it’s had bad consequences.. though ironically her fleeing with Globgor, as said book wonderfuly outlined.. was NOT a rash or impulse decision but a VERY hard one where she was stuck between keeping the crown and pleasing eveyrone.. or fleeing with her lover, being happy and taking care of a serious threat to the kingdom as a whole WITH him, but knowing it might not end well.. and sadly it did not.  Eclipsa does show her skill though once agian, having made up a silly song to rmemeber where to go and since the archives haven’t been touched and are about the same, easily leads them in. Though once they reach the door they can’t open it, but Eclipsa has a solution: A rat hole. “It’s so gross in here” she says delighted. Moon isn’t happy about it but agrees to it.. but her ass gets stuck.. and that’s not me being crude or making a joke her ass literally gets stuck and Eclipsa has to go for help but takes an hour, long enough for a spider to hypnotize moon and steal her crown and for moon to question trusting her.. before Eclipsa returns.  And this is what cements what I was getting at: Before there was clear ambiguity in “Is eclipsa the villian or not”. Here.. it’s gone. She has shady powers and her morals are flexable.. but she’s still a kind, loveably weird woman and it’s obvious by this point her reputation as evil was horribly exagerated, and primarily brought on by racisim. And moon’s realizing it too. They find the archives, which is a cool concept: magitek hands that record everything that happens to a royal, even showing some of what’s going on right then in the other plot. Moon quips that this actually really would’ve helped with the trial, but apologizes for it showing that she’s slowly realized what Star knew from minute one and what I just mentioned: Eclipsa is not a bad person. She’s flawed, but she’s not evil or some nightmarish destroyer of worlds.. she’s just a batty 40-50 something woman who dosne’t think through her actions. 

Eclipsa does explain it probably wouldn’t of done moon good, as it’s near impossible to find anything unless you know where to look.. which makes perfect sense. The scroll records every queen’s every actoin every minute of every day. Even summarized that’s like trying to sift through footage of eveyr minute of your life. Even sped up, it’d take weeks or months or even years to find something without knowing where exactly to look. Thankfully Eclipsa does.. but finds the Scroll has been offered as the “Daughter of queen eclipsa nd king shatacan” is sewn in there as festivia.. literally.. like part of the scroll was ripped out. And as close friend, endless resource and tom expert bar none @jess-the-vampire​ pointed out to me when I asked for her imput on these ones, that makes no sense as the two never had a daugther and I feel they just didn’t think that through. Plot hole aside.. it’s VERY clear someone has tampred with the archives and if Moon wasn’t already questinoing if Eclipsa was really bad this clinches it: Someone ERASED one of her family from history and hid the truth even from them. And Moon’s going ot get answers.. after our heroes run from the security system, get the crown back and BARELY escape with the scroll before the comission catches them. 

Back at the castle Eclipsa is disgraught over her daughter and Moon clinches their new bond by revealing she might still be alive... Moon might not KNOW if Star was telling or even knew the whole truth.. but she knwos something is going on and she’s going to find out. And whiel she may not know everything.. she has a damn good idea who did this.. .and says so just as star comes in from her adventure, having learned patience. Cue the credits.  Final Thoughts: This was a fun one, with Moon and Eclipsa having a delightful odd couple dynamic, the regminted overly serious and overly stuffy moon with the wild and reckless and charmingly weird eclipsa is just a great dynamic and endlessly entertaining and I wish the show had done more with it before what’s about to happen but what we got was great and minor plot hole mentioned aside, the reveal only deepens the intrigue for what’s next.. so speaking of which...

Butterfly Trap: Here. We. Go. One of the series best episodes, if not it’s BEST. Oh me mow i’m excited. 

We open with the long set up trial of Eclipsa Butterfly.. and as you’d expect by a trial by a jury of her enimies, the comission mostly sees this as a formality outside of Moon. Sean is excited though, he gets to bring out the typey thingy. Usually Rhombluus just crystalises them. 

Yeahhh... the show never properly deals with Rhombulus’ tendency to imprison first ask questions never or gets any of his victims, i.e. the ones he probably had less reason to crystal up not ones who were eating universes or whatever , free. But this is the LEAST of the dropped threads from this one. Point is this isn’t a remotely fair trial.. as hammermed in by the fact Hekapoo is upset and confused that Star is here too. Moon wants her to see eclipsa got a fair trial. Also Rhomblus wants her DEAD, but the others shot him down on this. HIs reasoning , for him, is suprisingly good: crystalising her didn’t work last time and implicilty given star likes her star could just order her freed when she’s queen. But I get their reasoning: Killing her would only make her a martyr to monsterkind, and to Star who probably woudln’t listen to or respect them EVER again. And Moon still wanted that when she started the trial.  So while clearly a sham this does crystalize, pun unitended, how corrupt the comissoin is. Their holding a trial with no jury, no witnesses, not that most are alive but some are, and with everyone CLEARLY thinking she’s guilty before it starts... and no one questioned it. This is even unusual as they rarely have an actual trial. And it’s about to be revealed to be a WHOLE lot worse. 

So the trial begins and Moon brings out the evidence, which is oddly disorganized given how much work she was putting in before, and ismostly secondhand accounts and interviews and their going to have to just sit there and sort through it all, which NONE OF THEM, especially rhomblus are happy about “THIS SOUNDS LIKE MATH!”

But Eclipsa has a simplier, if much more risky suggestion: Trial by Box. While Moon points out this isn’t great for her as the box is merciless and will not take lies, but Eclipsa counters rightly that she has nothing to hide. ANd honestly again given the commission are clearly out for her blood.. this is the only way she gets anything resembling a fair trial. Resembling being the key word. This is the most clearly rigged trial i’ve seen since that time Batman’s villians kidnapped him and put him on trial with joker as the judge.. good episode though.. and THAT was even a more fair trial as they actually gave him a lawyer and let him go when she made a convincing enough case. 

So the box is brought out, and it turns out to be the truth or punishment cube from season 2. Which Moon insists isn’t a party game.. despite the fact a bunch of teenage girls easily got one and it has a setting for that when moon grabs it. Along with, in a really great bit, settings for Bachelorette (All right ladies!) and Intervention. Know someone who could use that honestly. 

So the Comission ask their questions. We start with Rhombluus who asks if she wrote the “Evil Chapter” in the book of spells. Eclipsa dosen’t deny it but ponits out THEY labeled it that, Star rightly points out none of htem have actually read it moon included, and Eclipsa.. shoves her foot in her mouth by pointing out she’s made FAR WORSE spells that didnt make the cut. “Writing is rewriting you know”.  Love this woman. 

So next up is Hekapoo who asks if she abandoned her husband to run off with Globgor. Well they dont’ use his name because end of season plot twist but still. Eclipsa not only firmly doesen’t deny it but fondly caressses the projection of him “Hello sweetie”. Hekapoo marks her down with evil for this which... Jeff if you would?

Thank you. Not only is this racist bs that star perfectly destroyed earlier in the season, as the comission themselves are monsters in all but category, but the spellbook makes this so much worse. As I said for once Eclipsa .. wasn’t being impulsive. She was torn between duty and love and choose love, and even then partially did so to prevent the septarians from wiping out both the rest of monster kind AND mewmans. And Shastacan, was a massive dick, who took her not being in love with him like he was with her as a sign to throw her monster child away as we’’ll see and rightfully got eaten for it. I know this is all obvious stuff but it’s hard not to yell about it.  Next it Rhombluus.. who asks if she ate those babies. Again that was Bubipsa as Hekapoo understandably yells at him for but no backsies, and she sgets another evil mark on H-Poo’s good or evil tally because she’s that bitch. Finally Moon asks if she’s sorry for what she’s done.. and given the most they genuinely have are that she wrote spells that while dark and evil, were not only not the worst she could do but were clearly not used on any innocents, had an interracial marraige, and did not eat babies.. yeah, she’s not. So the comissoin prepare to cast judgement on the woman whose only “crime” is interacial dating, in a sham trial. 

Thankfully.. Eclipsa turns the tables. Before they can hastily refreeze her... Eclipsa points out she has a question.. and Moon points out as a former queen of mewni she’s entitled to a comission seat and thus TECHNICALLY a member. A loose rule and one you’d think Moon wouldn’t enforce.. but she does, a large hint at something i’ll get to in a moment as the reveal’s just too good to spend already. Naturally she has but one question for them:

No, obviously it’s “What did you do with my daughter”. Even more obviously they deny it.. but as we saw last time the cube came out, even lying to YOURSELF isn’t something the cube accepts so outright lying to save your fucking hides is even worse and it begins to crush them all. And after spending most of the runtime putting up with their racist and clearly biaserd bollocks it’s SO fucking cathartic to see them desperatly scramble and fail to avoid the box, with Hekapoo screaming “We didn’t do anything!”. 

Eventually Star calls them out on it pointing out they enforce the rules for everyone ELSE, and Hekapoo in paticular called Star and Moon on keeping the book being stolen a secret and Marco on Star’s butterfly form fiasco, so yeah, their glass house is in shards.. and Rhombluus FINNALLY ends this charade and confesses. Hekapoo naturally is mad at him for this.. despite the fact that if he hadn’t they’d all be dead and none of this would matter. 

Also Eclipsa is just badass during the entire sequence. While Moon and Star are panicking and the comission are covering for themselves, though the former two are probably doing it more just to keep up appearances but we’ll get to that in just a moment. Eclipsa, SHe just has this expression the whole time, as I put at the top for good reason. 

Just a look of pure SCORN, of a mother’s rage at having her daughter hidden from her and wiped from history, of having her husband imprisoned for rightfully getting vengance for it, for having HERSELF imiprosned and made out to be some kind of ghoul for the crime of marrying who she loved and saving her damn kingdom. She’s politely put up with this shit for as long as she had to to get to this moment.. but now as her tormentors despretly try to avoid the consequences of their actions and the truth.. she can only look on with pure, justified hatred at EVEYRTHING they’ve done and just how cowardly it is they refuse to admit it. 

So with the pepretraotrs in the cover up explosed, Rhomblus explains he was tired of lying. This COULD have been a good turn for the character, showing he had some remorse and have him get a redepmption arc... any of them could’ve.. but instead thier just 2 dimensonal asssholes after this because “racists be like that’ which they do, but it dosen’t mena you couldn’t of used them as big bads for the final season instead of wasting them.  But yeah back on point Rhombluus prods omni to tell them via his projection thing and he does: After Eclipsa was imprisoned, Shastacan got rid of meteora, and we of course know where she went and soon we’ll find out just what happened to her there, but more ont hat another time, and the comission covered things up by taking a pesant girl, though unlike the graphic above we later found out she was left behind by her family and taken in by the comission, who are shown to also have raised her by the book of spells. They gave her the wand, putting magic in her veins.. how ..

Look me and Jess discussed this: magic being given by the wand is terribly inconsistent and while I might go into it in a seperate article some other day, now is not the time or place for it. 

It is however the time and place for the reveal as Moon’s reaction to all of this? “We suspected as much”

Yup, as our heroines explain and Shawn freaks the fuck out in one of the series best gags, and mirrors the audience’s reactions, we find out this was all a setup: and as I alluded too one cleverly set up the whole episode, pun unintended: Moon is suddenly dour and ready to to through with the trial despite last episodes revelations, she brings in evidence that’s entirely unsorted despite being a control freak who was previously working on gathering and sorting said evidence, and she backs up eclipsa despite it clearly givng her an advantage. All little hints that something wasn’t right there. Whlie Hekapoo, being again that bitch, is naturally furious, Moon is undaunted and explains why they did this.. and Star was in on it too, which shows that even if her patience lesson from bog beast dosen’t stick entirely, sigh, it does stick for this one episode as she not only waited through this sham trial.. but played her part well, arguging with moon at times to make it seem like nothing had changed. Everything was a careful and constructed plan to get the commission into a position where they COULDN’T lie. Even if Rhombulus hadn’t cracked one of them might of when theyw ere close and while it was a huge risk they all knew going in... it paid off. The truth is laid bare. If only Lekmet’s bi ass were here .. so he could aslo get raked over teh coals for htis. Also yes bi, he had the bi flag colors on the flowers on ihs portrait they left where his seat used to be. 

So with the cards all on the table, the Cube passes judgment; Eclipsa is guilty.. but so are her judges minus Moon, so he tells them to think about that, which they do, while he leaves so they can sort out their issues. Star reads the assholes the riot act.. until she stumbles on realizing something: Eclipsa, her supportive, loving, and wonderful grandma whose actually like her.. isn’t her grandma. Eclipsa responds with an “I’m sorry sweetie’ making two things clear by her tone: She’s just as devistated by this reveal as star, she just has more pressing things in her head right now, and that even if their not bound by blood.. sh’es still star’s grandma and always will be.  What hits harder is the realization sh’es not a princess and her life is a lie. Granted she is TECHNICALLY a princess , since her dad is still a king by blood and could take the johnason throne if he wanted, but tha’ts being pednatinc: the real point is that the legacy that put so  much pressure on her all her life is a lie, and she isn’t who she thought she was.  “We’re nothing mom, we’re nothing. “ 

So star runs off as both of her moms try and comfort her. And as we close out this episode god damn is Eden Sher good in this. Just her acting in this scene is so damn heartbreaking and powerful, going from indignant and calling out the cocmisison.. to heartbreaking, slowly and quitely falling apart as she realizes what happened. So what’s this anguish star’s going through amount to?

Oh sure the ending of season 3 wouldn’t happen without this reveal.. but Star being devistated by it goes NOWHERE. There’s no character arc of her dealing with the fact she’s no longer a princess or once she gives teh wand to eclipsa, even heir to the throne probably. No angst, no deep reflection not even an offhand joke. We find out who the commoners Festivia descended from were.. but that’s IT. Star just kinda ignores this like her confession to marco last season only that at least got a payoff. I will bitch about that payoff soon but it’s you know A PAYOFF. This is a WASTE of an utterly amazing plot twist, one that turns the show on it’s head and star’s entire rebelious princess character around. because they just didn’t care to actually let her change as a character after this season. She learns nothing from this point, dosen’t really grow, and ends in a really terrible and ghastly place. This episodes excellent and while it’s after effects would be felt.. it left SO much more on the table they never bothered to pick up and use. 

Final Thoughts: As I said full of wasted potetinal.. but one of the series best episodes still. Hampered a bit by said waste of potetial but on it’s own it’s gripping, has a well set up swereve, and some great acting and animation all around. 

So that does it for this review: Next Time: Star and Tom’s relationship progresses as Tom is forced to see what his privlage has insulated him from, while it then hits a massive road block as we get.. to Booth Buddies. And yes i’m doing Skooled second, Booth Buddies is TECHNICALLY seasonly approraite for valentine’s way.. just like herpes. Until then follow this blog for more reviews, my comissions are open shoot me an ask for details and until the next rainbow, it’s been a pleasure. 

[randombtsprincessa]

Alchimia || 1

All Rights Reserved. © RandomBTSPrincessa, Tulips98.

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Park Jimin x Reader | Multiple characters (1st POV)

Words: 5k

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Hurt & Comfort, all the goodness!

Rating: PG! 

Summary: You’re the classic misfit in fantasy. Cue your entrance in the world of Alchimia where magick meets sinisters goals and mystery lurks in every corner. Safe is not something you expect to be at Alchimia Academy. 

Playlist: Gnosiiis - Kimbra

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, mentions of magic related violence, school (yep), minimal swearing.

A/N: Hopefully, this is the final rewrite of Alchimia. Please someone take my keyboard away.

The night air was chill, the scent of damp earth and dewy leaves carried upon a soft icy breeze. The forest is meant to be beautiful, considering how deeply natural it really was. No artifice, no human interference, it was inherently…a being.

So the sharp crack of a footfall on dried leaves, not only made the leaves crumble but also the illusion of blissful isolation.

A head jerked to the right, swathed in a too black cloak. The figure had been standing so still that it was impossible to discern that there had been in fact, someone standing in that particular spot.

“You’re late.”

Perhaps it was the coldness of the voice, or perhaps the woods but the new addition sighed, breath pooling out of their mouth to curl into mist.

“I couldn’t disappear by leaving my engagements. It’s a cause for curiosity, if not suspicion and we cannot afford either.”

They watched, as the first figure turned, the edge of that deep obsidian cloak barely brushing their ankles. “I suppose; it was a relief to be able to do the ritual myself. I didn’t need your assistance at all.” There was something caustic about the tone – almost cruel and it brought an irritated grunt to the companion’s lips.

“Then, pray tell, why did you drag me out to such a vile locale?”

“Shush,” There came a swift admonishment, “The trees can hear everything. You’d do well to remember where we stand. It won’t do to make such powerful enemies.”

“Aside from the ones we’ll make if we are ever found out…what about that? Have you thought at all about that one important scenario?”

There was no response, but it was clear that it wasn’t due to uncertainty, or doubt. It was plain avoidance.

The figure grunted again.

“The school year begins soon. I suppose we must wait for it to end to carry out our plans?”

“If we play our cards right, we might not have to wait at all. The ritual is sure to work and we’ll know soon enough.”

“Provided one arrives at the Academy, of course,”

“Unlike you, I have reputable sources. I know for a fact, there will be someone powerful enough for our needs. All we need to do is simply keep a close watch and then act swiftly.”

There was a pause before a small fire blazed into an open palm, the sudden wash of heat and light causing ruffled animals to take off, disgruntled.

The fire was aimed towards the first figure. “You seem sure. Yet you refuse to share your plans, what am I to do?”

“If you cannot find what we need, then it’s better for you to remain ignorant, my unreliable friend.”

“I didn’t think we were friends.” The figure chuckled, watching the other turn away, walking deeper into the woods. If there was one thing they weren’t ignorant about, was that it was best to not follow.

Instead, the palm of fire was lowered, dissipating into the chill as they both parted ways.

Somewhere far away from the chill, amid warm blankets and smooth velvets, a pair of eyes snapped open with a gasp, forgotten nightmares clinging to the dilated pupils.

The blankets felt too hot on my skin, almost claustrophobic as I desperately fought with the covers to free myself. One foot managed to connect with the cooler floor, followed by the other and I could sit up finally, leaning heavily on my arms to brace against the fact that I was at home, in my bed and my hands…well, my hands were not turning into explosives.

It seemed like an almost too short a period of time – from the pushing, from the snarky remarks, from the loud laughter that followed me in hallways. It seemed too close – the times when unknown hands met my unsuspecting body, thrown around as if I was no more than another ball.

And the final onslaught; it felt as if the incident had just happened yesterday…and not a whole month prior.

A burning heat rushed up my arms, starting at the tips of my fingers, tingling and then forming a scorch that ended around my elbows. I picked them up, unwilling to burn through yet another expensive bedding. The jagged flames engulfed nearly all my arm, and even though the heat was uncomfortable, sometimes even painful – it wasn’t so at the moment.

No, this was…this was a different pain. This was a dull ache that wouldn’t disappear from my chest…long after the flames had subsided.

I was an Alchemist.

I was an Alchemist from a family of renowned Alchemists.

And I was a complete and utter disappointment – and a disaster.

It was one thing to have vestiges of power rush out from an untrained Mage’s being. It was never rare. Of course, it was near unheard of that a Mage caused explosions from said power surges.

Well, as clichéd as it was, I was the exception.

Not because I was too powerful to contain these surges, no, it was because I was too weak to hold in anything. I was a problem, not a potential.

These ‘surges’ were uncontrollable, unpredictable as to their scale. And they hurt…they hurt more than just me.

And the incident had been the breaking point; I was dangerous…and I needed to be sent away.

I was being sent away and I couldn’t complain.

It was usual to see my grandparents already sitting at the breakfast table when I came down for breakfast. My grandfather would read the paper, almost always snorting at what he called “mortal absurdities” and my grandmother would smile in her tolerant way and murmur about how we had nothing to be concerned about.

The routine was comforting – both sides reassuring that I did not actually, have to worry myself with human matters.

Of course that was before I blew up my last school.

So it was jarring, coming down to see my parents occupying one side of the breakfast table, no paper in my grandfather’s hands, and an unnatural purse to my grandmother’s lips.

“Y/N,” My mother’s voice cracked out against the soft wooden walls. “Come sit down.”

I gulped.

Y/M/N Y/L/N was one of the foremost Alchemists in the field of transmutation and she held her title with great pride. It was common knowledge at least to me that she was the most disappointed in how her only daughter had turned out.

Not that you could blame her…I suppose.

“Yes mother,” I agreed quietly, taking my chair as unobtrusively as possible, appearing smaller than I was.

Mother sighed, taking a sip of her china tea cup and then fixing me with an unimpressed glare. “I suppose you know what this is about, child. We cannot – cannot – afford to have this kind of attention to us.”

“Yes mother.”

“You’ll find yourself lucky. Humans are painfully oblivious and disbelieving towards anything that is Mage and we did not have to waste time or energy trying to convince the school it was anything but a gas line explosion.”

My ears pricked.

“And they believe that? They all saw me; even the coach. He didn’t say anything?”

Mother narrowed her eyes. “It’s harder to appear normal if you go about saying that you saw a girl make a gymnasium explode when no explosives were found. Like I said, we were lucky. But we cannot have this becoming a trend, Y/N, not when it’s getting harder to…for you – to control yourself.”

I gulped again, but nodded.

She was right. My surges had begun small, light flares of magic overflowing from my fingertips when I flushed from embarrassment, or when my body thudded to the floor with a cruelly aimed shove. The last surge had been a mixture of everything – and had endangered so many people, not all bad.

So when my mother told me about sending me to Alchimia Academy, all I could do was silently nod and accept it. I didn’t have a wet mouth to be able to gulp this time.

My father’s eyes flickered this time, usually laid back but not indolent, he’d been silent in my mother’s decision – but I knew; he felt at his wit’s end. There was nothing he could do to help me as of now but this.

“You’ll be safe there, darling. Our entire family went to Alchimia, and we trained under their supreme guidance. You will not only be able to control and learn to use your powers, you’ll also be able to make friends there – have another chance at pursuing your own life.”

“I know,” I tried to smile. “I think I’d like to go.”

That wasn’t completely true.

Would I like to have more control over my powers? Would I like to feel safe and among people who would have a better chance at protecting themselves than my former classmates? Would I like to make friends? Yes.

Did I have a shot at a proper life if I went to Alchimia? Without a doubt…it was the best school in the country for Mage people.

Did I want to leave the security of the old stone manor, the comfort of my grandparents’ arms?

No, I did not.

But I had no other choice.

It was early in the morning when my father packed me up in the car, the driver quietly pulling away from my grandparents’ estate. My grandmother wrapped her arms around my shoulders, soft murmurs of reassurance echoing in my ear.

It was going to be all okay…I would be in good hands…I was strong enough to handle this…

My grandfather was more realistic. He clamped a hand first on my head and then my shoulder.

“You’re a brave girl, Y/N. If there is anyone who can go through what you did and hold her own at Alchimia, it’s you.”

I smiled ruefully up at the wise aged man. How could he think that of me? Someone who hadn’t even managed to bloom her powers until it was too late and nearly blown Mage cover for the entire world?

It made no sense but I wasn’t going to disappoint them any further.

My mother didn’t say much. One arm came to hug me to her chest, stiff in her affection and silent in her words.

“You be good, Y/N and make us proud.” She said finally, just as the car door shut me away from her.

Alchimia Academy was located deep in the wooded countryside, my father said. With the protection of the massive trees and thick foliage of the forest, it also had magically constructed water sources like rivers and lakes that supplied the school with streams, cutting through the campus for access to the elementals and water nymphs.

The heavily fortified and warded school was the safest place for in-training Mages…but not one of them would be out of control and threatening like I was.

Especially as an Alchemist, I was already on top of the food chain…and the prey would gather to protect themselves.

I was an outcast even before I had stepped foot in the school.

There was near to no conversation between me and my father as the sedan peeled through the asphalt. As the sky turned from a brooding gray to a stunning pallet of morning pinks and oranges, the tar changed to fine dust, small trees giving way to larger heights.

“The wards will begin soon enough.” My father said around late noon, “Mage blood is required to be able to pass the entrance wards. We will be at the school in time for the orientation.” He checked his watch.

I didn’t reply; too enamored by the soaring greenery that hid untold secrets.

Just as my father had said, the ground began to change, turning to a lush lawn with flagstones set in for a driveway. I leaned towards the window, catching my first sight of what was going to be my home for the next three years.

Surrounded by the luxurious greens and browns, Alchimia loomed tall and proud, nothing about it seemingly welcoming. It was part of the Magick; of course, making people who stumble across it feel a dense sense of terror that would never allow them to linger close.

I hoped to god it felt cozier inside as we raced up the curving stones. Spires hung far back, where the older, more gothic structures remained from the original time it had been built in. The outward façade was made of lighter slate rock, gleaming windows facing the woods and a cherry entrance marking the entry and exit. The roundabout swirled around a huge fountain, clearly sourced by the many streams that pooled the campus and it sprung high enough to be visible from farther in the drive.

When the car paused in front of the mighty double doors, they automatically swung open, a lady standing right at the opening as if she was expecting the incoming.

“We’re just in time. Come, Y/N,” My father muttered, opening his door before the driver could even step out. The younger man rushed to open mine, my lips offering him a small smile of thanks as I went to stand next to my father.

We waited till the lady had glided down.

Her hair was rolled into 40s waves, clean and sweeping off her face. Big eyes gave her the impression of being younger than she probably was and the grin she bore wasn’t unfriendly. Her grey suit glittered in the sunlight.

“Welcome,” she began, “to Alchimia Academy of Special Sciences. You must be Y/F/N Y/L/N, of the famed Alchemists.”

“Quite so, thank you,” my father returned her handshake. “This is my daughter, Y/N. We’re enrolling.”

“Ah, another generation of Y/L/Ns,” she smiled. “I’m sure it will be a pleasure and joy to have you with us, Miss Y/L/N.”

“It’s an honor to be here too, Ma’am.” I returned demurely. My mother would be proud that my voice didn’t shake at all.

“Fantastic; you’re just in time. Orientation and Dorm assignments are about to begin. I’ll give you a minute to say your goodbyes and then we’ll head in.”

I found it odd that she never once mentioned her name but she stepped back and my father was turning to me, cutting off the curiosity halfway.

“Right then, dearest,” he said, somewhat awkwardly. While my father had never been cruel, he had also never been very affectionate. It was strange, the endearment but I didn’t think too hard on it.

“I’d say that I am happy, but I will be honest; I am not. At least not considering the circumstances; you would’ve come to Alchimia in your own time, not be sent here like an animal being caged. I hope you know, it pains your mother and me to never see you, and to cut you off like this brings more salt to our wounds than any other.”

I didn’t believe one word he said.

“It needed to be done. I’ll see you, father.” I said, stepping away and moving towards the lady, hoping he wouldn’t call back or try to hug me.

He didn’t.

If the woman heard anything, she didn’t comment, choosing to quietly lead me inside and then, the doors were swinging shut, closing me away from them and putting me with the others.

“This way, Miss Y/L/N, we hold the orientations in the Aurora Gardens, that’s the main grounds.” She led me down a long, high hallway, paneled in dark wood and ancient looking watercolors hanging on them, all depicting what had to be different buildings on Alchimia Campus.

At the very end, another set of double door opened at the wave of her hand, and the immediate onslaught of sunlight on my eyes made me cringe back a little.

It looked like a huge open meadow. Here and there, sprinkled was enormous statues; Grecian, roman, broken horses of terracotta from India, and little pavilions that served as gazebos.

Chatter could be heard, carried over the clean breeze and I took in a deep breath, following the host as she led me across one stile to a pavilion where approximately fifty students were converged.

“This is going to be your batch; I suggest you join them now. I will start the orientation.”

I turned my feet to the back of the group, trying to appear as small and nonthreatening as I could.

Everyone was talking to each other, some just listening but they were all in groups, little clusters of people dotting the marble floor.

I caught sight of a group of girls, and while they looked nothing alike, there was such a form of strong similarity about them, it was almost disturbing. They moved the same, turned their heads and crossed their legs the same, perched demurely on one of the benches.

Faeries…I decided, looking away before they felt my gaze.

Boys rough housed about and some were openly displaying their powers. I caught one boy create a ball of fire in one palm before a girl behind him created a water shower from the air itself, dunking both his head and the fire out.

“Fall in!”

One snapped cry from the lady rendered the crowd silent, everyone craning their head to look at the woman addressing them. She raised her hand, three fingers pointing towards the dripping wet boy and he was dry, the liquid that evaporated off of him, squeezing into a cloudy mist and then dissipating back into the air.

“Now then, if you’re done making a ruckus of the place, shall we begin?”

She didn’t wait for an answer.

“I bid you all welcome again to not only the most prestigious school for the Magickal sciences, but also the safest place on earth that you can be for the next three years of your life.”

She smiled.

“As you all undoubtedly know, Alchimia has been a safe haven for Mages since the 1200s, before being converted to a boarding school in 1456 due to the Undergrounding. As per the wishes of the founders, no Mage shall ever be turned away or persecuted and can live as they wish within these walls.”

My ears pricked at her words.

“Of course, we have adapted since the Dark Ages. It’s a modern world, and Magick has evolved much. The grounds you sit on and will no doubt make merry upon house untold power. I urge you to remember and respect this.”

She moved farther back.

“I have no suspicions that some of you wonder why I do not reveal my name. That is the way of Alchimia, to safeguard those who safeguard you. You may refer to me as Madam Moon, or simply Supervisor shall do. You will never know the name of your professors, unless they vow to you their identity. Our pseudonyms carry power, as you will learn later in your classes.”

“You shall get the day off tomorrow. This is not for you to laze about the grounds. You will go to the Registration House, in Crescent Building and be divided into classes as per your abilities and the subjects you wish to choose. As per what you are and how you do at the six month assessment, you will be assigned a counselor. I urge you to take them seriously. They decide whether you are fit and safe to be allowed within these halls.”

I felt my stomach drop.

A counselor…? Someone who would require your entire history? What would they do when they discovered what I’d done?

“Elemental classes are mandatory for every Mage. They are; Fire, Water, Air, Earth and the Atmosphere. Magick is divided into two levels. The first is primary and the most basic of things, and depending on how you do in your examinations, we shall determine whether you will be allowed to take the arcane classes. Alchemy classes are mandatory for all Alchemists, just as Shape shifting and Necromancy are to be taken by those of said leanings.” She paused, spying a raised hand. It was the same girl who had been using Water Magick. “Yes,”

“Is it possible to take the special classes for those who don’t have the special powers, ma’am?” She asked.

“By all means, of course, people with no applying powers will only be able to take the theory of said classes, but they are absolutely allowable. No knowledge is jealously guarded at Alchimia.”

She waited to see if anybody else had questions before continuing.

“Archaic languages are compulsory, but can be dropped should you wish to in the later years. Of course, if you are a warlock, you may not drop them as you will need them to study the formations of spells and wards. Aside from these classes, Astronomy, Potions and Wards, Anatomy, the applied sciences such as Numerology, geology, physics and chemistry, history and the fine arts are all compulsory in your first year. You may drop some in your second year.”

There was a groan.

“I thought coming to a magic school lets you off the hook for stupid human subjects.” Someone crowed, amid a muttering of agreements.

“Understand that we are preparing you for the outside world. You may choose to retain jobs within Alchimia but you will not be hidden away from humans forever. It is absolutely necessary to be able to merge well with mortals if you wish to avoid detection.”

The crowd fell silent.

“Now, the headmistress is going to be available to students and parents by direct contact – only if she seeks it. If you have grievances and wish an audience, you must let a staff member know.”

She paused, her eyes roving over the mass of students and then she sighed.

“I wish you a happy journey in the Academy but there are some rules you cannot break. Use of practical Magick outside of your classrooms or warded areas is forbidden. Use of Magick on a student is strictly prohibited.” Her eyes hovered over the boy and girl who had used Elements before.

“If you have familiars, they are not to wander the grounds unless they are Bound. And students are not to wander the school grounds after midnight without express permission.”

She squeezed her fists and then released them, a swarm of butterflies escaping one and a barrage of fireflies the other.

“Ladies, follow the fireflies to the Conjura Halls, the female dorms. Gentlemen, the butterflies shall take you to the Invoques Halls, the male dorms. You will be assigned a roommate and be provided with the map of the entire campus. Your luggage is already in your dorm rooms. Please, remember, class registrations are tomorrow and take the day to familiarize yourself with Alchimia.”

She stood back and the swarm of flies parted, the cluster of fireflies lighting up. Slowly, boys and girls changed ways, the girls following the lighted insects down one route.

Conjura hall was a sprawling building, similar to the neo classical construction I’d seen prior. Gardens spread around the building, stunning roses and lovely scents exuding from the blooms. Similar to the front entrance, there was yet another fountain, this time the centre piece the stone carving of a twisting Goddess.

Two towers extended from the main building, perhaps where the staff and offices resided.

I walked with the girls, to small tables where a stack of school maps lay. Plucking one up, I slipped it into my pocket. I’d have time to look at it later, I was more concerned with whom I’d be living with for three years.

The dorm assignments were put up on bulletin boards, names listed alphabetically. Making sure all the girls were busy discussing the school grounds they’d most like to explore, I placed a finger on the page, running it down till I landed on my last name.

Right along the name was…Cho Miyeon.

I tapped the name, wondering if I’d ever heard of them.

Cho wasn’t an Alchemist family name, so it was unclear if I’d ever caught them around the circuit but I was grateful. Having an Alchemist around could either be a very good thing, or a very bad thing. For one, yes, they could help in learning control but they could also be a stressor.

And I was trying very hard to not let myself freak out…

Hiking up the carryon bag I’d slung over my shoulders, I turned my way out the reception hall, walking down the hallway to where the stairs began.

My room was on the third floor so by the time I reached the room, I was nearly panting. I really needed to start some exercise; I told myself, if climbing all these stairs was going to be the norm for three years, I needed to be in some shape.

I grabbed the door knob, feeling it turn warm in my hold and the door swung open. Doors here seemed to do that a lot.

The inside was simple; Nothing glamorous, but cozy and not shabby.

The walls were powder blue, a large white bay window overlooking the gardens, thankfully. The room was divided neatly into two, but the furniture wasn’t identical.

One side had a deep midnight blue bed, the wooden frame mahogany with a matching night table. The desk and wardrobe were of the same wood, the handles glowing gold. Stars spangled the coverings of the lamps, and partition curtain.

The other was much more understated. The bed, desk and night table was pine, silver and small blue stones fitted into the furnishings. The bedspread and coverings were a mild violet, birds printed on them.

I went and sat on the purple bed, hoping that finders’ keepers were applicable here.

My suitcases were stacked near the door, along with a set of another which I deduced probably belonged to Cho Miyeon. It was as I was dragging the first one to my chosen bed – near the window, that the door opened again and my roommate walked in.

Like me, Cho Miyeon did a sweep of the room, before her eyes landed on me.

“Oh!” She started, jumping a little before her hand came up to her chest. “You scared me! I wasn’t expecting someone to already be here.”

“Yeah, we’re roommates.” I said softly, askance in case she resented having to share her room.

“Yes we are! For three years, we’re going to be like sisters! Hi, I’m Miyeon.” She came forward eagerly, her hand outstretched. She didn’t wait for me, grabbing my hand in a firm grip.

“Hi,” I winced. “I’m Y/N.”

“I know,” she beamed. “I saw your name.”

She let go, backing towards the colorful part of the room before giving me a sly grin. “You left the bright part of the room for the Faerie? How astute,”

“I…I didn’t know you were a Fae.” I blinked, surprised. A Fae put in a room with an Alchemist…? Would that even work out?

“Oh, no worries, it’s not like they post that for the world to see. What are you by the way?” She flopped on the starry bed.

“Alchemist,” I muttered, looking down and focusing on unfolding my clothes.

“Alchemist,” she sat up. “Holy shit, are you Y/N Y/L/N, your parents are those famous alchemists?”

I paused, stiff and unwilling before reluctantly nodding.

“Holy Shit,” she said again, “you’re going to be so fucking famous.”

Exactly what I didn’t want…

“I don’t think so.” I tried to wave her off. “I’m sure there are loads of kids here with rich or famous parents.”

“Well, a few, sure, but you know how it is. I heard the Prince of Fae Court is here this year, and the son of a High Warlock with a couple nymphs from the bottom of the ocean itself but aside from that there wasn’t much of a hoot this year. I’m so glad I got you as a roommate.”

I glanced up in puzzlement.

“You must be like…so powerful.” She whispered in explanation.

I opened my mouth, considering telling her not to get her hopes up when I was literally saved by the bell – in the form of a knock on the door.

Miyeon opened the door.

I politely returned my attention to my suitcase when Miyeon called for me again.

“Y/N, come on, we have an early dinner today. Plus the Headmistress is going to address the new students.”

I nodded, sliding on my shoes to follow her and her friend, whom she introduced as Suhwa.

The dining pavilion was one of the bigger monuments in the campus. Hundreds of students gathered under its pillars, finding tables and small spaces wherever they could to perch and eat.

Food was served as a buffet, meats and vegetables and fruits served in large steaming platters. Vines curled over the towering pillars that held up the ceiling and I could spy people sliding up them – most likely tree nymphs.

Miyeon led me with her to her table, the identical girls I’d seen before the ones occupying the table. It made sense, Fae were rather similar – sometimes in more than just disposition.

She introduced Minnie, Soojin, Soyeon, and Yuqi, four more girls to make their group complete.

Each was Fae and each one was absolutely beautiful. They plucked fruits and vegetables off the platters in an orderly fashion, while I grabbed some of the meat before sitting down with them.

Perhaps it was Fae glamour, but it was oddly reassuring. Or maybe it was the knowledge that Faeries were supposed to be very strong and could definitely hold their own against someone who say – accidentally caused explosions.

“So, a Y/L/N, huh?” Soyeon finally asked.

“Yeah, it’s amazing isn’t it? Who’d have thought I’d get an Alchemist as a roommate.” Miyeon nudged me.

“It’s really not a big deal.” I said immediately.

“There are a few more Alchemists this year. It seems they were trying to get more of you enrolled.” Yuqi popped a grape delicately in her mouth.

“Don’t Alchemists usually attend?” I asked, frowning.

“Some do, of course, they have to come.” Yuqi shrugged and for a split second it seemed as if she was going to say something else, but she merely returned to her grapes.

I stared at her from under my eyelashes.

A tinkling of glass made us all look around, to the stage of staff at the head of the pavilion.

Madam Moon had been the one to attract our attention, the sound of the glass amplified by Magick.

“Good evening, students. If you’ve finished, our headmistress would like to say a few words.” She drew back and then another woman took her place.

Tall, upright with pure ebony for hair, she surveyed the pavilion with cool eyes, hands behind her back.

“I wish you a good evening, children.” She said, loudly, no Magick necessary for her to be audible. “I trust Madam Supervisor has made you all aware of what is going to be required of you in our esteemed establishment. I am not here to reiterate. Instead, I wish to tell you what you require from this school.”

She took a breath.

“Mage people were once the most celebrated in the universe. We were worshipped, as gods, as goddesses as philosophers and prophets. In time, mortals have overtaken our natural world and corrupted it with iron and greed and lust for power. The Undergrounding is not just a movement, but also a rebellion. In the face of the humans’ persecution, we have risen and thrived. We have adapted ourselves to fit them. Now, please ask yourself. Do you plan to hide forever? If yes, then Alchimia isn’t the place for you.”

I shivered.

“We are not here to teach you to hide yourselves, to curb your powers. We are here to have you flow with your natural abilities. There is no shame to the Mages – unlike our Magick less counterparts. The shame lies with them for tearing down anything they do not understand. I want you to step forth from these walls, show the world who you are and can be.”

“If you can do so, I bid you good luck. Tonight, you will sleep early. I want you to dream, dream of what you want for yourselves out there. That is what is going to help you survive your classes and in time, yourself.”

She smiled suddenly.

“With that, I hope you all have a good night and pleasant dreams.”

It took some time for students to start moving after the speech. Most were probably in some shock from being told to be the exact opposite of what they’d been taught at home.

I was one of them.

We all had learnt in our childhoods that the Undergrounding was to keep us from being burnt at stakes in the town squares. It was our way of keeping and hiding our secrets from the thieving hands of mortals.

They would try to use and leash our Magick for their own uses and the best way to prevent it had been to go into hiding. To rebel against it, was something inconceivable.

For an age that would never listen to rules, we piled up obediently, dispersing just as we had been instructed to.

At night the grounds, soft and luxuriant, were lit with fireflies and twinkling orbs. They hung upon trees and statues like little stars, casting silvery glints on the grass below. It was like walking in your own private galaxy; enchanting and otherworldly.

It was while walking through the gardens of Conjura Halls when I stopped by a bush of tall roses. It was stupid, the impulse. I never allowed myself Magick if I could help it and to do it in the presence of a whole school of Mages.

I had to be out of my mind.

Nevertheless, I reached out, grasping a thick stem and yanking the rose from the bush. The thorns grazed my thumb and fingers, the smell pungent under my nose but I carried it with me inside, climbing the stairs up to my room.

Miyeon had already drawn the curtains, closing off her side of the room when I came in after brushing my teeth, rose still in my hand.

I hoped she was already asleep as I slipped my feet under my sheets, back propped on the headboard.

I cast a look out the window; moonlight flooding into the room unfiltered and closed my eyes, trying to remember what my grandfather had taught me.

Feel it in your core, burning and throbbing, let it seep through your bones, feel it tingling in your muscles…then let it go, don’t hold back.

I opened my eyes, feeling the soft heat in my fingertips, cautiously sitting up in case they increased to a flame. And then to my utter relief, the flower glowed, its matter turning into golden pollen and just when I thought I could reform it, it turned to dust – literally.

I was left sitting on my bed handfuls of burnt ash clutched in my palms.

[courtorderedcake]

Majestically Too Far Beyond : CSSNS 2020

It’s finally here! Yaaaay! Here’s my @cssns​ for 2020, Majestically Too Far Beyond, title based on the Poem written by Komal Kapoor. You can read my explanation of how this mess all got started Here. Art is by @kmomof4​ and I threw in some too for fun. 

Summary :  Emma Swan has never been that type of girl, you know, the one that cries and sinks into a pint of ice cream after a break-up. She's never ever cared about anyone other than completely out of survival, but then came Neal, and then came the final big break up with someone maybe she sort of kind of loved. So now she is one of those girls who are homeless, living with her adopted brother and his wife at their farm in a long abandoned Victorian keeper's home, desperately trying to save to get her own place while working her difficult government job and as a merc witch on the side.  When a desperate Witch calls on her to do a spell, it's all bad news - but then said Witch revealed a mountain of gold coins, and whimpered that Emma is her only hope. How can she not be a bad ass magic savior for this poor soul? All seems to be well, until the consequences are suddenly very real.  Killian may be a Demon, a fallen Angel that now delights in the practice of revenge, but first and foremost he's a gentleman. Sort of.  Especially when his ruddy Angel brother is focused on bureaucracy and keeping mankind out of chaos, while Killian barely keeps his denizens as safe as he can in a world that wants Demons dead. Witches and Warlocks use them for parts, Werewolves see them as a threat, Angels mostly still hold on to the ancient feud regardless of their treatise, Fae stay chaotic neutral, Vampires don't care for others affairs - it's a perilous world where hate crimes happen without consequence. When Killian goes above to plead for more safety laws in the metropolis of Hyperion Hills, the city that lies over a major portal to hell, he does not expect to meet a council that the elemental five sit on. He especially doesn't expect that the council would ever take him seriously in his campaign for demon safety. Regina, Snow, Ariel, Elsa, and Belle seem dead set on making it their pet project - each for their own very different reasons. Especially when they bring up hiring a tempestuous security consultant, Emma Swan. When they adjourn, he can say that he is optimistically apprehensive. An optimistic Demon never leads to good things, unless by good things you mean throwing back rum while chasing a pretty woman for plundering. He's unsure of what to expect when challenged to do shot for shot by a mysterious blonde Witch, who didn't care who (or what) he is, but he does like a challenge. Too much in fact, the challenge raising the stakes, because from there on it becomes a blur, and yeah, he's bloody well in it now. The idea of a contract sounds fantastic when they stumbled into the strange tower, half naked and wanting. It's the ritual she does instead that he should have been paying attention to. So, maybe now he's missing a hand, and has only the vaguest idea of what happened from the mess of blood he's woken up to, his and someone else's, a mirror's accursed magic the only thing to tell him what took place: he's a prisoner until someone lets him free… And a woman that he’s positive did not exist in his life yesterday, who just happens to not only be a Witch but a complete stranger, is pregnant with his child. 

Rated E, but really falls in at more of a M. Fluffy angst with some adult themes and hinted undertones.  READ ON AO3 HERE.

Chapter 1 - Long ago, eclipses were feared as well:

To say that the Jones 'Brothers' had been fighting since time began, was not an understatement, but also not exactly truthful. They had actually been fighting before recorded time, and before there was even a concept of the perception of anything besides the aether or eternity.

That's why he'd fallen, actually. Loss was a powerful motivation, enough even to question the utmost Authority - and the Authority despised questioning. Fighting was in the nature of the divine Celestials, as it seemed, and in Her infinite curiosity that She defined as 'Wisdom', God had let Lucifer burn too brightly. Their war was a lover's jealous quarrel turned violent. 

Although Liam was created moments before Killian, they were brothers (as it were) even amongst a host of angels, and they were close regardless of their stubborn spats. They fought over the world and its workings, Liam given a flaming sword while Killian was given books. They fought over knowledge of the divine arts, arguing whether humans were worthy of the Arcane. They fought over Killian's love of a mortal woman, and his questioning of commandments. 

They fought over Killian standing behind Lucifer, and Liam fought Killian right before he fell. In some ways, it was Liam's own hand that pushed Killian, but in his last angelic act, Killian forgave his brother. 

While Earthborne and some remnant Angels believed Demons were not capable of love, they were of course wrong. Demons loved, lost, and forgave just as any others. Even after the schism, even after years of passive aggressive pettiness between both sides, Demons were still seen as wayward, dark, demented creatures. Angels had done little to fight this stereotype, instead reveling in their continued status as goodwill ambassadors. 

Even their name amongst mortals was a cosmic joke, the Creator and her lover-made-antagonist too long gone to bother with proper names. They were Angels or Demons to some cultures as humans grew on God's abandoned project, while others called them by their new names. 

The Angel Diana was called a Goddess alongside Hecate, Freya, Gabriel, Uriel, and many others. The Demons Zeus, Odin, Loki, Hades, and Poseidon happily took on roles that suited their carnal needs. Angels mixed with mortals along with Demons, God's secret seeds of elemental magics taking life along beside them as Druids, Fae, and Elementals.  Some of the Celestials even birthed life as their lost parents had, Demons begetting Demons, Angels begetting Angels, and everything or anything in between. 

Humans gained magical prowess as the world changed, Witches, Druids, Warlocks, Mortismals, and Mesmerels becoming the norm for human bloodlines. 

Still, Demons were given less, all because God had cursed them irrevocably before disappearing with Lucifer into the abyss. They were cellularly different now than any of the Angels they had once been, a yoke around their neck that they could be forced to obey. Like Angels, they could be worshipped, called, trapped, or contracted even as their powers and bodies twisted into the curse stained strangeness God graced them with. They were looked on with disgust, pity, horror, and anger for it despite their best attempts.

Which was why his sodding Ponce of a brother working as an Angel ambassador for a Prince of Hell was so important - and so bloody frustrating. 

It wasn't as if being a Prince of Hell wasn't stressful enough - his people always under siege or afraid of some Witch summoning them to place a brand, then using them as a charcuterie board - no. It was that his brother was a baked potato when it came to convincing the public they were not what millennia of ingrained hatred had established Demons as. 

Bosch had died before Killian could uppercut him, regardless of his depiction of Liam as a trumpeting ferret bird or the even less flattering version of Killian. Dante had been another great PR stunt his brother had botched miserably. The Rings of Hell weren't even used, Lucifer gone before he could put God's plans for punishment into place. Now as a museum and reenactment park, it was a popular attraction that helped generate funds for the denizens that lived in the spacial plane that surrounded it, but Dante's review had been swayed by Liam taking him into The Kingdom right after. How could Hell ever live up to the paradise God herself had planned for humans? Only Cedar Point, Busch Gardens, Disney, or Universal Studios could come close as far as themed parks. It was a complete disaster. 

This newest idea of Killian sitting on the board of Hyperion Heights to work with the world's premier intersectional coven, 'StoryBrooke', was another terrible idea in the making, and Killian had no qualms letting his brother know it.

"This is absolutely ridiculous Liam," Killian gritted out, itching under the glamor that made him look mortal. Being confined in a skin suit had his molecules vibrating so loudly he could hear his canines, starlight and cosmic fire sending pinpricks of goose flesh down the dark hairs of his arms and legs. Wearing this was torture enough without Liam staring at him in disdain, his own heavenly image unblemished. Even his halo was a polished gold around his fat head. "While I am a dashing rapscallion in my original skin, don't you think it's bad form for them to see me like this instead of how I actually look? Isn't the point of this to show that even if we're not as pretty as your lot, we're still beings that deserve respect?"

Liam grunted, rolling his eyes. Blue fire from explosions of stars and galaxies lit in mirrors of Killian's own, but framed by rosy cheeks and tawny curls instead of moving shadow, a ghoulish pallor, and dark hair the color of ink or raven's feather. The Angelic glamor contained the haze of darkness that moved like smoke around him, the length of his fingers and claws, and made his flesh look pale but not tinted the color of the universe's light. It did not hide his horns (remnants of shattered halo) or his twitching tail if someone chose to leave eyes on him too long, but that was another Demonic burden to bear. 

"First impressions, little brother. Even the most progressive Witch is still a Witch. I'd rather them see you like this instead of wondering if you truly need all your giblets."

Killian swallowed hard, nodding once before grumbling, "Younger brother. Younger."

"Go over your notes again. You'll need to be your nauseatingly charming self for this, especially if they bring the males in their midst," Liam asked of him, and Killian looked out the dark windows of the car as his tail moved in agitation. 

"Regina. Head of the Coven, Witch and Mortismal that inherited her throne from her mother. Began the integration method and broke away from the Misthaven Coven to create the StoryBrooke one," Killian intoned. 

"Right. She's a tough nut too, and her ghosts do the most of her dirty work. She's not someone to cross unless you want your chairs stacked to the ceiling every morning by some bloody poltergeist." 

"Aw, well, I'm unfortunately haunted by you already, I doubt a poltergeist could do more damage." Killian slanted a look at his brother, who gave an annoyed huff as his pure white feathers ruffled. Killian was thankful in part that he did not have wings at all times, even if the trade off was painful. "While Regina is the head of the Coven, the head of the Council is Elsa Frost of the Frost twins. She's a direct descendant of the Giant Ice Sorceresses with powerful magic, but her passion is creating legislation for Hyperion Heights. Her sister Anna is the family's public relations face, and runs their fashion empire, Arendelle Designs with her Druid husband."

"Good. Good, tell me about Ariel Poisson."

"Siren and Mermaid, with four years on the council. Made history as the first water Elemental to sit on the council, beating the long seated Witch, Ursula, by a large margin. Opponents argue that her father's position as King of the seas and his dominion over fair weather and fishing made voters nervous to not cast ballots for her. Her campaign slogan was 'Part of your World', which could be beneficial to my campaign." 

"Right. Snow Blanchard?" 

"Would-be heir to the Misthaven Coven who ended its elitist reign by breaking tradition and leaving, sending them into chaos." Killian smirked. "She sounds like someone who I could get along with."

"She gets along with everyone except her family, which is more than normal it would seem," Liam replied back, and Killian snorted out a chuckle. 

"Druid, Elf, and Green Witch. Runs a high profile herbal apothecary chain Enchanted Forest Supplies, focused on holistic medicinals, herbs, and spices. Nolan Farms is a subsidiary that sells produce to the Heights, which is her husband's 'pet' project."

"Watch yourself, brother," Liam warned. "While you might get away with that if it's just the Witches, if David and Ruby sit in today you'll find that will not stand."

"Ah, yes. Ruby Reddings and David 'Charming' Nolan. You only circled that they are Werewolves in red ink everywhere you could. David is Snow's husband, and her lead farm hand. Ruby is Snow's cousin who introduced the two. Ruby is currently in a high profile relationship with your colleague, Inspector Wolfe, and they both are very active in pack politics. Many are betting they will create their own pack if the current Alphas do not abandon some of the more ancient doctrines. Nothing new there."

"Don't forget Livre and Fa."

"Belle Livre, Witch turned Vampire, runs a community literacy foundation and bookstore chain. Known ally to Demon rights. Soft spoken but brutally intelligent. Introduced a synthetic blood that allows for daytime living via plant cells collaborating with Enchanted Forest, which made history 6 years ago," Killian listed. "Mulan Fa, Vampire. Cultural Development head of the Heights, and curator of The Hyperion Heights Museum of Art, History, Science, and Culture. Teaches part time at Hyperion Heights University as an adjunct professor. Fa is married to a Fae Elf, Merida Ursa."

"Good. That's as far as we know besides the whole Swan fiasco, which is not to be brought up."

"What Swan fiasco?" 

"Oh, little brother. If you had done your research outside of the profiles I gave you, you would know all about the criminal history of the black and heartless sheep within the Misthaven and StoryBrooke covens. It's better off that you don't know."

"Er. Well. Alright. I didn't look into them because I don't bloody well care about their lots as long as we get protection. There was another slaying this weekend. A Lower Demon."

"I'm aware. Did you know her?" 

"Not really, but that's not enough either. I owe my people more. The other Lords of Hell are fine telling Demons to stay below and never use their name, which is fine for the new blood. It's the old, the weak, and the abused that are at risk."

"Careful, Killian. Your lust for vengeance will never be welcomed by mortals."

"I'm well aware Liam. They like my kind for an entirely different kind of lust."

"Could you please not." Liam sighed, sitting back against the seat. After a moment, his brother spoke quietly. "There was another attack as well, this time in broad daylight in Camelot Town. The Anti-Integration Movement has claimed responsibility."

"Of bloody course they have!" Killian hissed, clenching his fists. He pinched the bridge of his nose, grimacing. "Brilliant. Just absolutely marvelous -" 

"They were going to run a story in the Times. I managed to block it for now, but we need a sympathetic writer on the inside, or we risk them running another story with their bias."

"I have a guy. I'll reach out, he's an old school Warlock who I've worked with in the past on push back. What's their excuse this time?" 

"They said that the Succubus was, quote, 'asking for it by the way she was dressed'."

Nausea rose in Killian's throat, and he swallowed it down with bitter practice. "I wasn't aware that how someone dressed meant their lives were not only void, but taking pieces of them was fine as well."

"We know they're being funded well, and we will get arrests as soon as possible. This won't be forever, Killian."

"That's easy for you to promise when this has been my - our forever." Killian bit out, glaring at his feet.

The car came to a stop, the driver opening the door to let them out. Killian moved briskly up the steps of the council building, as Liam followed behind. They moved through the lobby with an easy flash of Liam's ID that Killian scoffed at, moving into the elevator. 

"After that display, I'm going drinking after this," Killian gritted through his teeth. 

Liam blinked, straightening his tie in the door's polished reflection. "What display? They were nice."

"Exactly. If I came here alone, I would have been in that security line for an hour." 

Liam rolled his eyes, taking down his halo to polish the golden ring. "You absolutely exaggerate how you're treated. Not everyone is out to get you, especially when you look like this. Give others a break."

"I'll give myself a break after this with as much rum as I can safely consume, instead."

The doors pinged open to reveal a small atrium, dark wood flooring in stark contrast to the birch tree covered walls. A secretary stood behind a rounded desk against the far wall, motioning for them to sit. 

"They'll be with you in a moment," she offered, glancing at them with a thin smile. Killian could practically taste her distrust as he scratched behind his ear. Liam swatted at him lightly in a bid to get him to stop, both of them tense when the doors finally opened to reveal a petite woman dressed in a powder blue skirt and blazer. 

"Come in gentleman. The council will see you now." She smiled icily. His brother stood, his feathers slightly puffed in an indication of his own nervousness. 

Killian followed a second later, walking with them as they made forced, but pleasant conversation all the way into the boardroom. 

Women sat at a long table that curved slightly, facing their own small table similar to a courtroom. He was reminded of the tribunals in the old days when law had begun, but the courtiers were far different than the strange group of women scrutinizing them. 

To his surprise, the majority of them seemed actually curious instead of repulsed or bored. 

"The council recognizes Liam Jones and Killian… Jones. These are your chosen surnames, correct? And you identify as… brothers?" 

"Yes," Liam stated firmly with a curt nod. Killian watched from his peripheral as his shoulder muscles twitched, his wings held stiffly upright to keep them from the floor. 

Killian nodded, careful to keep his tail curled around his legs. The skin suit itched as it clung to him, not abated by his attempt to sit more casually. 

"Interesting," remarked the dark haired witch at the far right. A nameplate sat in front of her, marking her as Regina. He wondered idly if her stare was due to the blood on his hands only an eternal existence could bring. 

"You are here to ask for help in creating safety measures and a potential council commitment to Demon rights, correct?" Ariel, a fiery haired lass with a heart face, asked. 

"Our major point of concern is the influx of hate groups that seem to fall in line with smuggling operations and planned violence," Killian said slowly. Attention snapped to him, and he brought up the slide presentation he had prepared. "We have had some luck stopping shipments and arresting bit players, but we can't find the heads of these operations."

"You can't find them, or you are barred from digging deeper?" Mulan asked, and he chuckled darkly. 

"The latter, I'm afraid. We have consistently come to the same dead end again and again. I'm sure I don't have to explain to you ladies how difficult a foe powerful covens behind corporate entities are." He let a grimace creep onto his face, and saw the majority of the women nod in acknowledgement. 

"This could make many enemies for us, if approached in the wrong way." Belle stated quietly. "Specifically with our good friends in the Storybrooke Coven."

Snow nodded, exchanging a bitter look with her. "We may need a professional from our coven, but she's unable to get clearance without special notation."

"Oh? Who is this?" Liam asked. 

Elsa and the rest of the coven smiled in varying degrees of fondness. "The best in the business, and in my Coven. If you need to find someone, Emma Swan can always find them, and she's good at criminal magical activities. She knows the system, knows how and where to hide, and where to seek."

They'd found what the coven wanted, and their stake in the venture. Killian caught Liam's face falling, his eyes narrowing into slits. 

"You can't be serious. Involving Swan in this after -" 

"That was all a misunderstanding, and was blown completely out of proportion. We have long held up our end of the blame and accountability, while Misthaven has shirked theirs in the name of slandering her." Elsa steepled her fingers. "If you desire the best, which I assume is why you are here, you need to rehab not only Demons’ image, but hers as well. She should be sitting here with us."

Liam tried in vain to tip the scale back in their favor, his face going red. "We'll consider this as part of our negotiations."

"Negotiations? Liam, you are a detective. You should have deduced by now that you have no leverage. You have only decisions to make." Regina closed her planner, regarding them with her dark gaze. "So, make them quickly, before our patience wanes."

Killian bit back a laugh at Liam’s sudden blustered stuttering. These witches were good, and as the meeting ran on for hours he realized just how much liquor he would need to recover. 

 "Well that went well." 

Liam’s sour expression and slumped shoulders were just visible in his peripheral, even as his feathers were still quite literally ruffled. He huffed out a noise of disapproval, too vexed to even reply back. 

"Aye to that, brother." Licking his lips, they stepped into the cool dusk air. "I'm going for that drink, are you…?" Killian glanced at Liam, who shook his head with annoyance. 

"Seriously? You really -" 

"Really shouldn't what Liam?" Killian smiled, venom leaking into his tone. "Go get drunk in a town that would rather pretend I don't exist or sell me in a fine powder to the nearest bidder? I think I'll be okay, although the concern is duly noted."

He turned on his heel, his glamor falling away in a puff of smoke. The air hit his itchy, overheated skin, his tail whipping around in sharp, agitated flicks. 

"Take care of yourself, little brother! No need to be a self destructive bastard. We lost a battle, not the war!" Liam called after him, stepping into his sleek car. Killian snorted. 

Hailing a cab with some difficulty, the driver asked where he was headed with the same slight resignation he was used to for his kind. 

"A bar, Demon friendly please. Some place without swill."

The driver nodded, dropping him at a dimly lit corner of the city. A red neon sign spread crimson light along the sidewalk, soft light also spilling out the doors accompanied by loud guitar. Looking up, the looping, swirled lettering made him smirk. 'The Jealous Flask' was as good a place as any in his neck of the underworld woods. 

The inside was smoky, deep red damask wallpaper paired with dark, pitch stained wood panels, booths, and bartop. The liquor selection was displayed neatly, unlike the few early patrons sitting scattered around. The jukebox played warbly rock music, some punchy chords and an easy to memorize refrain. 

'one two three four, can I have a little more, five six seven eight nine ten, I love you' 

The bar stools were empty, and Killian slung himself onto one, the bartender nodding his head by way of a greeting. 

"Rum, neat," Killian stated, pointing to his preferred vice. The bartender did not stop polishing the glass in his hand, but the bottle floated down gently, pouring itself into a tumbler before the glass set itself down in front of Killian. "Thanks, mate."

The bartender nodded again, continuing his work with the aid of his magic. People began to trickle in as the time ticked forward, a witch or two eyeing him suspiciously, vampires playing pool in the front, a group of young werewolves forcing change into the jukebox to get edgier music playing through the speaker system. The Clash crooned out words against the Fae Queen ruling over greater Eld, the pack jumping around excitedly and thrashing their heads back and forth. By this time Killian had moved to the far curve of the bar, his glass refilled to the point of the bottle sitting next to him like a patient date. There were still no other Demons in his presence. It shouldn't have surprised him, shouldn't have even made him angry with the amount of violence they were privy to, but he burned away the emotions with the alcohol flowing down his throat. 

A soft touch on his shoulder caught his attention, and he turned with a growl. It died in his throat when large eyes met his, blonde curls falling in front of her eyes in loose tendrils. 

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bother you," she stammered, biting her lip. Pointing to a drink that was clearly not his, umbrella and all, she continued. "I was trying to reach my drink. It’s gotten crowded and I thought, I mean, I am sorry I wasn't trying to -" 

"Aye." He nodded, throwing back his drink. "S'alright lass. I'm sorry, I s'pose I'm just a bit out of place here."

She smiled, blushing. "Yeah, I uh, I get that. I haven't seen you around before."

"First time here. I was in the neighborhood for business." He poured himself more, and to his surprise she pushed and elbowed her way to sit next to him. 

"Business?" Her eyes were curious while her fingers toyed with the umbrella in her drink. "Should I be concerned?" 

It was clearly teasing, and Killian felt himself loosening up around her. She seemed to read him well, or at least the alcohol was working. "Not any of the good kind, I'm afraid." He grinned with a wink. 

"Ah, so we're just ships passing in the night?" She leaned in and he could smell the floral and herbal scent of her, her eyelashes batting coquettishly as she sipped her drink in his space. 

"Passing closely, I hope," he murmured. His heart raced; it had been ages since any mortal had shown interest in him that was mutual. 

His head spun as she met him drink for drink, hand unsubtly creeping higher up his hip. 

"Would you be opposed to… Maybe, I don't know… getting out of here?" 

"Are you saying you would fancy a nightcap, lass?" She smiled from under her lashes while biting her lip, and his heated blood grew hotter. 

"Perhaps." She stood with grace as she extended a hand to him. "My place is a quick and easy teleportation spell away from here, and my bed doesn't require any sort of magic outside of what I can do with my tongue." 

Killian hesitated, her golden hair in the glow of the lights making her seem to shimmer. "I don't even know your name -" 

"Eloise. It's Eloise." She pulled him up, letting him stumble into her body. Her lips met his, and soon he was pulling her closer as their mouths slanted across one another's in hunger. She bit his lip and he felt the tightness that had bloomed in his belly spread fire down his spine. 

"Lead the way, love," he whispered huskily, grinding into her. 

She smiled broadly, the world shifting until he was in her dimly lit home. A lone window twinkled starlight, moon huge outside as it hung in the sky. Her tongue slid past his lips, the bitter herbal taste overwhelming while the world shifted again, this time pulling him apart. 

 In a perfect world, Emma Swan would not be doing anything remotely close to what she was currently debating doing. It truly wasn't her fault; it fell on Neal and his stupid family if anyone was to blame, and his stupid coven with their stupid leader. She should have known back then it had been a set up, should have known that Neal was a fucking liar. How many times did the same drawn out plot have to play out? Apparently, too many, considering she had still warmed his bed until a week ago. 

This time it was final. Emma wouldn't accept him back when Neal slithered out from under the rock he had his affair in. She wouldn't be charmed by his smooth talking silver tongue, and if he so much as breathed near her, she would take another five years for breaking his smarmy Fae nose. Final. It had to be final. 

But finality meant certain conditions had to be met, especially if she was to ward him away. For one, the beautiful loft that belonged to Neal in the Heights downtown could definitely not be her base of operations any more. Neither could the various in between places she found where Emma could grieve until he took her back, damaged goods and all. No more hotel rooms, no more abandoned apartments, no more warehouses, vacation rentals, or quiet empty offices. She had to get her own place, and it had to be able to handle her particularly finicky magic. Neal's place wasn't great for her particular practice, but the view had been killer enough to ignore it. Neal's fortune had meant she didn't need to work, and with her record (or, as his coven would sneer, 'notoriety') that was just as well. 

Working added a wrinkle to her life; she would have to find somewhere that allowed her enough space for her magic to keep her employed. That would require a hefty chunk of gold - if she was lucky. The prices in the downtown area were steep, only high profile Witches, Warlocks, Fae, and Celestials could afford accommodation that close to the capitol buildings and Ley Lines. Initially when Emma had glanced through the apartment listings on the bulletin board, she had almost had a panic attack at the amount of gold they demanded. 

Her brother David, blessings be, had been her knight in shining armor. There was a large Victorian home that lay in shambles at the edge of their farm lands, its beautiful scalloped details in need of paint, and the gutters growing weeds as thick as her forearm. But, it was within her budget if she could get the down payment placed before the scheduled demolition. She put what she had down to stall as much as she could, but it was not enough in the least. 

One big job was all she needed. One big job that she could cash out on. A dip of her toes back into the waters of peddling illegal magic, just quickly in and out without a splash. 

She didn't need any more jail time, that was for certain. 

Putting out the word she was available in the whisper market was always dangerous, but listening in was free and without a snag if you were smart. 

Emma heard tell of a desperate woman willing to give a truckload full of gold to the right Witch who could perform delicate, esoteric, deeply Arcane and forbidden magics. Luckily for both of them, that's what Emma excelled at. 

She had always been good at her craft, and her magical workings were beyond powerful. She could do things that other practitioners only dared to dream of, if they could even conceive it. It was why Neal had kept her around, and why his coven's dislike would melt away if she said she would consider joining. 

(If she did that around Yulesmas for better gifts, was it really so bad?) 

The request itself was intriguing, the woman herself a Witch that could not do the spell alone. She wanted an equivalent exchange of unbreakable magical bonds, which while tricky, was not forbidden in most circumstances. The offer was too good to pass up on, but Emma didn't like leaving things to complete chance. 

Cue her sister-in-law, Snow. If anyone could throw runes, read the winds, divine from the mundane, and not keep any of it a fucking secret, it was Snow. 

Emma knocked on their cheery red door in the early morning, which must have been a surprise to Snow considering she was half dressed in business wear. She pulled up her stockings in a one footed hop, motioning for Emma to come in as she balanced the phone receiver against her neck. The coiled cord spun around her, and she groaned loudly. 

"Yes, Regina, I know. I'll be there, I'm literally - it's 2 hours away. I will be there in thirty minutes at latest, but - Well, yes, Emma just walked in." Snow gestured at a chair, and Emma sat, looking at her with an eyebrow raised. "Yes, I know it's early for her. I know. Uh huh. Yes. We will definitely put her on the table; it's absurd not to, considering - yes, I would love to talk to you about this in person as I've said - alright. Yes. Okay then, buh-bye." 

Sighing, Snow twirled, untwisting herself from the phone cord. She smoothed down her pencil skirt and blouse before looking straight at Emma with a curious stare. Her mouth twitched with annoyance as she spoke. 

"Now. To what do I owe the pleasure? I have a meeting with Celestials shortly, so." She waved a hand indicating the clock in the background. Turning to the counter, she opened up a cookie jar and removed a rolled cannabis cigarette, putting it between her lips and lighting it. 

Emma swallowed, watching the petite woman slide the purple lighter back in its space on their counter. "I just need you to divine something for me. A situation, with a woman who wants me to… to uh, do something."

Snow rolled her eyes, narrowing them to glare at Emma. "We are bringing you up as collateral in our meeting today, trying to get you a seat where you belong - on the council," Snow hissed. She pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a breath. 

"Please?" Emma asked innocently, batting her eyelashes for good measure. 

Snow sighed. "Alright. Picture the situation and the woman."

Emma focused on the description, the spellwork requested, the woman's pleas. She could feel Snow's magic engulf her, and the fuzziness that came with it as she wove threads out into the natural universe, time and space sending her back answers. 

A moment passed, and the feeling abruptly stopped as Snow shook her head. 

"This doesn't feel right," Snow said, taking a drag of her blunt. She exhaled, the thick smoke swirling into the shape of birds that dove through the air. Emma coughed, waving a hand in front of her face. "That woman… I don't know. She feels off."

Emma frowned, petulant that the answer was negative. "She's a Witch, and in trouble." 

"Have you rolled your runes?" Snow began to pull on her loafers, gathering her things. 

Emma chewed her lip. She had divined, or tried to, but had not found a concrete result. "Yeah, and they said it's… Questionable, but the end result leaves all parties happy. Tarot said basically the same thing."

Snow let out a little twittering laugh, pulling her purse up on her shoulder. "And how does Neal feel about it?"

"Neal doesn't need to feel any way about it. I… We… I broke it off." Emma looked at her shoes, then idly inspected the counters formica. "Forever this time." 

"Oh. Is that why you're here so early?" Snow's eyes went wide, a hand covering her mouth. "Oh, Emma, honey. I'm so sorry, I've just been under so much stress with Regina and this council. Wait, where are you staying? Oh no - are you homeless!? You mean it, you're never going back to that creep?"

"Never," Emma said firmly, even as her voice caught. "I'll find a place though, Snow. Don't worry." 

"So you are homeless, oh Emma, if I wasn't late - no. No. You know, I'll call Regina and cancel it, you need me more than -" 

"No, well, I mean -" Emma shook her head. "No. I'll stay here tonight if I have to, but you need to get to your meeting. I don't need Regina's wrath on top of everything else."

"You know you can stay here with us as long as you need, oh, Emma, I wish you had told me -" 

"I don't want to stay here. I can't work here, and I love you guys but you both are gross with your lovey dovey hippie -" 

"I get it, I get it." Snow grimaced. 

"So yeah, I need the money. I can't stay here, I need my own place… I put a tiny deposit on that Victorian down the road, but I need the full down payment to keep it." Emma shrugged. 

"The house at the --- Emma, that place is a breeze away from being condemned!" 

"No it's not," Emma groaned, rubbing her temple. "It's got good bones, and character. It just needs some… help."

"Well. I mean…" Snow hesitated, heading towards the door, as Emma followed. "Alright then. I'm just warning you, I get a terrible vibe from that woman and I could cancel this today, we could work out a plan. We have the money from the harvest. You could work for us or with David and help us with the roll outs in exchange for a loan. I'm organized, but the help would be appreciated if you're living so close… especially since I'm making sure that house is safely remodeled for you. I don't want you to end up with the roof falling on you or some gas line exploding." 

"You worry way too much, Snow."

"I hear the future through nature, and it's generally terrifying. Nature is terrifying. Excuse me for being cautious, and wanting to help you out."

Emma laughed as they walked out the door together, Snow rummaging in her bag for lipstick which she quickly applied. "Yeah well, you're also smoking weed so potent it could put an elephant to sleep. I don't want a loan from you."

"I'm not an elephant, Em. I'm an Elf. It'll take more than this to knock me on my ass." She smiled, extending a hand to squeeze Emma's shoulder. "Be careful, okay? No repeats."

"That wasn't -" Emma protested, but Snow cut her off with a sharp look. "Yeah, alright. 

"Good. I'll see you tonight, you're coming for dinner. No buts." Snow grinned, before disappearing with a puff of periwinkle smoke. 

Emma groaned, kicking dirt as she stalked away towards her new potential home. 

 In the final days before moving from the small basement apartment Emma rented, the dingy, unused, bare studio finally found some decoration in chalk outlines, herbs, and a large bubbling cauldron. It hadn't ever been a home or remotely close to one when Neal presented a better option, the bed untouched and unmade. It reminded Emma more of her prison cell than anything else, which offered a strange duality of comfort mixed with dread. It was fitting that she would meet to do this ritual here. 

Gothel arrived promptly for their 10 am arranged meeting in a well worn taupe cloak. She looked as desperate as the correspondences between them indicated, but Emma resolved to get this over with as quickly as possible. They shared a nod in the form of hellos, then Emma pointed to the cauldron.

"Let's begin, shall we?" Emma asked, and Gothel drew back her cloak to reveal her tired and gaunt looking face. 

"Yes. Let's. Your payment, with more upon completion." Gothel dropped a large purse on the counter, Emma immediately grabbing it and checking the contents. It was real, her heart soaring as she shoved it in her bag. 

"So, you are to give me a token of your will, usually blood, an animal you raised, or something that's valuable to you . Something you care about, that you are tied to that a severing will make you -"

"I give you the life of my first child," Gothel interrupted. 

Emma's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh." Biting her lip, she brushed back her braid. "That's… That's super Illegal. I…" 

"You wanted something heavy, you got it. There's a reason why I came to you; you have a reputation for doing things quietly. The reason you chose me is because you need the coin. Now, my terms. I know you provide healing. I want to keep myself young and strong - youthful immortality. Grant me this." The grin on her face unsettled Emma, Snow's warning in her mind. Nevertheless, the satchel of gold meant a secured home.

"Um. Alright. Are you sure, the life of your firstborn? That's a ways off, and the strength won't happen until -" 

"Do it. Do it now, I know the spell will be enacted when payment is due. I'm well studied - Breaking a bond with a child, specifically your first, will grant me the power I need. I know that I can't do this spell myself either, so here I am."

Emma gulped. "Okay. Let me get the texts."

Emma returned with her copper cauldron, pile of books, and spell components. Gothel's grin grew wider, her eyes gleaming at the sight of the tongues, eyes, crushed butterflies, and other more macabre ingredients the spell required. 

Feeling a low tug in her gut that something was wrong, Emma backed away from the altar. The other Witch seemed to shimmer, slightly in alarm, a glamor of some sort possibly covering her skin. Feeling even more unsettled, Emma shook her head. 

"I can't do this, listen -" 

"Please. Please you must, I need this to escape a curse. It's blood magic, almost unbreakable and impossible to escape on my own. Please." Emma heard no lies in her speech. "I admit that I have not been entirely truthful. While I was able to send you the gold easily, I am trapped, held against my will. I can only project myself to you. I was afraid to tell you, because I am desperate to rid myself of this curse." When no lies continued to register, Emma felt a deep sense of pity for the other witch. A blood magic binding was no joke; someone truly must have hated the poor woman. 

"Fine," Emma said, throwing her hands up. Gothel perked up slightly, hope in her eyes. Throwing the ingredients in the cauldron, a shimmering mist roiled over the edge as she spoke ancient words and stirred in the shape of long unused runes. Adding bones that melted in soapy bubbles and stirring with a long Pegasus feather that gradually turned to ash, she looked up at Gothel, who was wringing her hands anxiously.

"Your tokens?" Emma asked. 

Gothel waved a hand over the stained cloth; several of the woman's teeth, a long braid of her hair, and a large chunk of skin fell into the cauldron. The cauldron's contents began to boil, smoke curling in darkened serpentine tangles. 

Emma began the words, Latin, Arameric, the old tongue of the Pagans, Celtic, remnants of Gaul, flowing them together until speaking plainly to her own magic. 

"Blood of one that is two, child, mother, 

Blood of my own, tear them asunder, 

Thicker than wine, thicker than water, 

Ties that bind, bound to another, 

The womb that grows life, 

Kin cared for in kind, 

A payment for power, 

Remake the ties, lift, and unbind."

Scraping her hand against a dagger, Emma let her blood drop slowly into the brew, the words flowing out in the crimson rivulets. As she pulled away the wound closed from her own healing energy. 

"Cradle of moon within flesh, 

Remake that which is to be made, 

Your reflection removed, 

Mine in its stead.

Your burden is mine, 

Carried and held as your first, 

Blood of the two, child, mother, 

As they are born, you are cursed."

She looked at Gothel, who was still wringing her hands, long nails cutting into her palms. This magic was hopefully worth the price the woman had so freely paid. Breaking an infant and mother's bond to give to another was a great sacrifice, the magic comparable to true love, if not greater. The power the Witch would receive would hopefully free her from the curse, but also give her the strength she desired.

"It's done. You must cast your brand over the cauldron, and when you, you know," Emma turned around, holding herself tightly. Caught up in the thought of what she, Emma Swan, would even do with a child, she was unaware of the other Witch behind her scrambling to the cauldron or her deep disregard for anything she was saying. "Get pregnant, let me know. I'll handle that - Wait, what are you -" 

Gothel chuckled lowly, her brand in its arcane circle around the cauldron, neon lines of electricity like power that sparked and crackled. Emma felt her hair stand on end, small pebbles lifting off the stone floor as the cauldron shook. Smoke rose in heavy plumes, purple and a noxious mauve that made the air feel sticky, her lungs not able to fill all the way. Gothel's chuckle had turned into a wild cackle, her braided and matted hair like vines or a visage of Medusa. 

Gothel's voice was crazed, shrill as she pointed a gnarled finger at Emma. "This is it. This is it! I've done it, I'm free! Oh, you silly, stupid girl. Now nothing will ever stop me again!" 

Her laugh grew into a shriek of triumph as magic swirled around them, Emma watching as the woman in front of her disappeared. Gaping at what happened, Emma checked herself for any signs of curses or hexes, unsure of what had just taken place. 

To her surprise, no sign of magic lay on her that she could see. She wasn't cursed, the room wasn't jinxed, and the second payment… Emma quickly checked her purse, finding the large satchel of gold easily. The second sat where Gothel had discarded it without looking twice, and she picked it up hesitantly. It was heavy in her hands as she checked it again and again, realizing that for once in her life, everything was going right. 

 Three hours later, she owned the Victorian home down the road from her brother's farm, the first home she had ever truly called hers. 

 Living near her brother's home had its perks, and disadvantages, as Snow had hinted. For one, Snow was cooking for her every day, and Emma was positive she was going to gain several dress sizes if she didn't stop gorging on various pasta dishes while pouring her magic into restoring the wooden floor. 

A major downside was having her brother constantly fixing her house without her being aware. She'd been woken by him cleaning the gutters, fixing her porch, and of all things, roofing. It had only been a few days, but between his insistence on the outside being presentable and her own work inside, the house was coming along faster than she ever dreamed. It was frightening, and David kept her on edge with his very obvious attempts at snooping around. 

"So, you're done with Neal for good," he said, startling her as she sat out on a newly hung porch swing. She wrinkled her nose at him in protest, and he grinned. "And… You're making doors again."

She froze, panic gripping her. 

"It's alright, I'm not mad. I'm just - just be careful. I trust you, but I know that before -" 

"I made a mistake. I know it, you know it, the Coven knows it, and so does everyone else in the Heights that saw me fall from grace." Emma curled her arms around her knees, bitterly forcing out words. "I won't make the same mistake again. I am on the straight and narrow; these doors are for commuting and hunting skips only." 

David laughed, poking her in the side. "Back to hunting skips, huh? Damn. Don't you ever settle down and enjoy the simple life?" 

Emma laughed, shaking her head. "What the hell is the simple life? Nothing is simple."

"Well, yeah, but… I mean the simple life." He brushed a hand through his hair, looking at her with a gentleness that she instantly felt uneasy with. "House, a pet maybe, hobbies, a partner, kids -" 

"If you are trying to set me up again -" 

"Not me," David raised his hands defensively. "No, I was just -" 

"I don't deserve that life," Emma stated, shrugging. The sun was sinking lower, crickets singing in the cool air. "That life isn't for me. That life is for people like you and Snow, people that are worth something."

"Oh, Emma. You know that's not -" 

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Emma snapped, standing with a start. David looked at her with a hurt expression, and she felt pure rage. "Goodnight."

She stepped back into the house, letting the screen door slam shut behind her. 

"Emma, come on," David called from the porch, but Emma wasn't listening to him as she fought the immediate urge to be ill. The sudden nausea ripped through her, and despite her attempts, vomit burst from her throat. 

She panted, holding on to the wall with one hand. The other hand gripped her side, fierce cramping making her double over in a scream of agony. She lurched forward, unable to breathe as pressure rose in her stomach. To her terror, her skin grew taut and she seemed to bloat, the pain of it ripping through her. 

David splintered the door, his arms around her as she lost consciousness. 

She woke in an ambulance, David holding her hand like he'd done when they were children. He was always the best big brother she could have asked for, always protective of her, and always pushing her to be better. He had convinced her to trust Ruth, convinced her to take a chance with the older woman who was willing to adopt both of them, and they had found another home together. When she was scared or sick, he was right there to hold her hand. Even now as pain ripped through her, he was there. She tried to understand, but her body burned until the flame became too much to bear. 

She woke again to the beeping of machines and David's yelling, her body aching but no longer in the same searing pain. Lifting herself up to try and hear what David was saying, she struggled to make out more than just fragments. 

"I'm not leaving, that's my sister ---- How did -- she wasn't, she --- I don't know, she never said anything ----- A WHAT? No! I'm --- not leaving!" 

Emma's stomach lurched, and she shifted to get out of bed. The sheets slid from her middle, and she gasped. Her middle was rounded, as if she was pregnant. But that was impossible, that was absolutely and completely impossible. 

A knock sounded, a petite woman entering. 

"I'm Doctor Mullins, Emma. I know that this may take some time to fully process, but… you're pregnant."

Emma hissed out a breath into a hysterical laugh. "What? No. No. This is not how babies work, or pregnancy, or even - I haven't even had sex since - "

"I know, and I understand that you must be frightened." The doctor attempted to console her, but Emma could not stop her rising panic. She touched the rounded skin of her stomach, the firm smoothness lined with stretch marks. Letting out a low wail, the doctor tried to speak over her still. "It's some ancient and dark magic, but it's very real. We have an inspector on the way to take your statement, and we performed a few tests -" 

"No. No, this is a bad dream, this isn't real, this isn't happening to me!" Emma closed her eyes, trying to focus. 

" - most concerning of which is the results on paternity, which indicate that the father has non-human presenting DNA. Normally that's not terribly unusual, but this is clearly not a planned pregnancy considering your… your conception being, well, this, and the genomic markers show that the parentage is half Celestial. I need to ask, have you had any relationships with an Angel?"

Emma shook her head, trying to understand what the doctor was asking. 

"Alright, what about anyone with proximity to dark, Arcane, or Demonic magics? Anyone who associates with Demons? Do you associate with them?" The doctor eyed her curiously, and Emma shook her head again. 

"I don't know any Demons, Angels, or Celestials." Emma bit her lip, frustrated at the question. Rolling it between her teeth, she murmured a thought out loud. "I did recently perform a ritual that was older. It didn't call for this though, I don't know anything about this…" 

"Well, it doesn't just happen." Emma looked at the doctor with enough venom in her stare to curdle milk. The doctor laughed nervously. "I mean, it did but -" 

"This cannot be happening," Emma moaned, throwing her head back against the hospital bed's pillow. "This has to be a bad dream."

"I'm afraid it is all very real. Considering the circumstances, an inspector of magical law will be assigned to question you regarding the situation. Because of the issues of legality, you may not leave or have visitors until then." The doctor stood, brushing her hands on her slacks. "Baby looks healthy despite wanting to grow at an accelerated rate, and we have slowed that as much as we can. Welcome to motherhood Miss Swan, and, er… Congratulations." Giving a last placid smile, she left the room, leaving Emma alone. 

Emma sat stunned, unable to do anything but focus on her steady breathing. 

(Fuck)

The single word came to mind again and again, escaping from her lips as her breath finally began to turn into sobs. 

"Fuck."

[filypadreams]

Fleeting Touches

( Asmodeus x GN!MC)

Synopsis: Do you know what fleeting means? It means you should apreciate every moment while you can. Even if you get lost in illusions for it.

TW: Slight angst

_______________________________

The streets were full this time of the year, even with the cold weather. It was a race for most humans to get that last minute gift for that special someone.

Their children, parents, grandparents or significant others. For some reason it's tradition to get that one person a last minute present.

And that's always a disaster...

" Calvin Klein One... with bergamot, cardamom, pineapple and jasmin. Tropical? Or maybe Dolce & Gabanna Velvet Exotic Leather. Traditional and italian... also at good prices, I need to ask if they are antiallergenic! "

I spend 15 minutes on the line but get both perfumes and walk outside onto the sunny street. It's not as busy as the mall and I really should get home before it gets to close to one pm.

Today, faces are a blur to me.

" Thanks for the tip Asmo, I was sick of the strong scents of women perfumes and the always down to earth male ones~"

I cheerfully speak to myself while touching the 'tattoo' above my left breast.

It's a one-way communication system. I'm not even sure Asmodeus hears what I tell him but I sure do hear his thoughts.

" Ohhh, bootie alert at 12! No, wait! Delicious curves at 4- oohh...that's a mix at 9 o'clock~!"

I see a man, woman, I think the last one is in mid transitioning but I'm not sure.

" He'll be a beautiful man, I'm 95% sure!"

" Maybe it's a 'they'... not that you can hear me."

Though I agree, they look...handsome. With a nice physique, curly shoulder lenght hair, smooth skin as if rivalling Asmos' ... and who can resist a dark biker leather jacket?!

No, stop. Don't let the mark influence you from your mission MC!

Setting the christmas gifts.

I start running in the direction of the bus station when I collide with a tall lady, her black shades falling to the ground from her beautiful light pink sweater.

My head hurts. It felt like hitting a brick wall...or Beel.

Are my only thoughts as I scramble to pick her glasses and my shopping bag. Good thing it was well packed.

"Oh my~ I'm so sorry, I didn't notice such a beautiful face in this crowd. I was retoutching my eyeliner, huhu! Let me help~"

The lady crouches down next to me. I notice from the corner of my eyes that she is also wearing a black turtle neck... and has peach coloured hair...

" Asmo?!"

Darkness. A cold hand covers my eyes while the other takes the shades from mine and exchanges them with my bags...it seems. He whispers is my ear.

" Now, now. Don't ruin the surprise! I'm just a beautiful 'lady'. Hahaha."

And with that he dissapears. Everything seems to dissapear, as soon it gets dark and I'm sitted in my couch, replaying today's event.

It felt so real... I called him a lady.

Well... I don't think Asmodeus minds.

I walk around the tree, putting down colorfully wrapped gifts. That I went purposely to markets and malls to have wrapped!

Diavolo better play Santa and give me some grimm if I ever get an invite to Devildom, I blew most of my allowances with these!

On the blue corner I have vynil disks and office supplies. Getting stuff for Lucifer is hard.

The yellow corner... is a mess of acessories like shades and wristwatches and some jackets. Mammon needs a new one.

The orange corner was the cheapest but most difficult to prepare. I wrapped most of my otaku related rarities, in Devildom at least, and put them in a pile. Levi better apreciate my figurines!

The green pile was also simple. It's actually small with my old literature books. All from great authors and all trying to escape religious judgement so Satan might find that amusing.

I don't have a red corner, just baked goods on the table and two glasses of milk in case Santa visits.

I put purple pillows, warm robes, matresses and scarves around the tree. Belphie won't lose comfort soon.

And now finishing the pink corner.

There's the perfumes, some cosmetics I really don't get but my 'chest instinct' said to go ahead and...

" I hope he likes this fluffy bunny backpack!"

I kinda wanted the bunny for myself... but I can't.

The day went on so fast... why am I even doing this? Might as well call Solomon and offer him these so he can perform his rituals. I'll just wake up tomorrow to a full room of wasted money and a mountain of calories. An empty heart.

I caress the bunny when i hear rustling on my door. Something is playing with my wreath? I pick a knife from the dinning table.

" W-who's there?! Show yourself fiend!"

" Aww, that hurts to hear MC-chan..."

From the darkness into the light walks the same person I crashed into this morning.

" You better drop that knife before someone gets hurt..."

" How...Asmo, how are you here?! Why?!!"

Tears come to my eyes. It's been a while. A long while since I've seen any of them. Since I've had slumber parties with Asmodeus, self care sessions...

He shakes his head cleaning the few teardrops away with the back of his index finger and walks to the tree, messing with the gifts.

" Tears don't suit you well. Oh, you even got something for Barbatos... I'm slightly jealous, I thought you only thought about me~"

He starts opening his gifts.

" Wait! It's not even Christmas Eve. We need to wait until midnight at least..."

As I try to explain, his taller stature hovers over me, playing with my hair and putting a mistletoe, secure in it's knots. Wait... how is he so tall? The height difference is too abnormal.

" I'm afraid the concept of time doesn't apply in dreams, MC."

" H-huh?! Wha... the day... went on really fast. So you..."

I look down slightly dissapointed. The floor starts cracking and falling. Darkness and constelations starting to form under my feet.

" Afraid not. Christmas is not really part of our traditions, haha. Even if we had a great celebration that one time Diavolo proposed we did it with the exchange students.

I like the angel."

He points to the tree top.

" Oh, that... I was thinking of Beel and Belphie when I made the decision. It's my oldest decoration. I was thinking on putting a star this year but... I got a literal gut feeling to keep the angel."

I smirk at Asmodeus as he puts an arm around my shoulders, leaning me a little closer to him. We both apreciate the flashing lights from the tree. Even if it was fake. The rest of the room crumbles away and Asmo let's go of me to pick his gifts and stuffing them inside his new backpack.

" I know he was thinking of the only person that shines as bright as us two together.

Hmm, but you haven't been taking good care of yourself, MC-chan! Remember to follow the morning routine I gave you so your skin is almost as perfect as mine!"

" I haven't been feeling like...doing much I guess. I had a lot of work this year."

" Humans are always full of work. I mean me too.

Since RAD is closed for the 'holidays', we are back to our other jobs. Things get dirty real fast, so many pests! Maybe we can actually come visit during New Year's."

After apreciating the representation if Lilith, he turns to berate me, before picking a bottle of perfurm and examining it, followed by spraying some on while making a spin as he explains his bodyguard/demon threat exterminator job.

He must have loved it because he transforms, with a smile on his face and his horns move like pincers.

" I always found your demon form the funniest."

" ...Dear, I'm fabulous."

" Hahahahaha! Ok, but if this isn't a Diavolo, Barbatos or Lucifer' scheme... is it Belphegor's? You mentioned dreams, and it explains the constelations."

I look around, darkness being drilled by the light of many tiny stars.

" I think I see taurus... and of course he had ro include pisces. Mammon is supposed to be the greedy one, this is OUR moment!"

He huffes and crosses his arms. I chuckle and pat his back.

" So, I'm asleep at the same time as Belphie."

" It's night time in both worlds. You could say I'm an intruder. I was taking my immersive nightly bath as I prepared to get into your dreams~ I hope I didn't actually fall asleep, my poor skin!"

" How did you convince him?"

I wonder as he touches his arm and the parts of revealed skin as if to feel if something was wrong with his real body.

" Oh, well...he actually wanted to see you to! I also promised to take more cute pictures of Lucifer for him. But I don't think he admires his beauty the same way I do-"

The world trembles. Belphie must be waking up. And angry...

" Oh, dear! I must have upset him. This illusion will end soon and you'll wake up in your bed as if nothing happened. I hope you don't forget me."

Asmo walks closer and caresses my face. Kissing my forehead.

It's warm. Fleeting but I can feel his gestures. Even in a dream.

I slap his hand when I feel it sliding down my back a little too far.

" Ouch! My nail...ok, ok. I'm sorry! Won't happen again~"

He apologises when making contact with my burning stare and proceeds to act innocently after.

" It better not. I... think it will be difficult to forget you. Specially now. Make sure the others know-! Ahh!!!"

Another quake and I "conveniently" fall in his arms. I'm able to see his pixie sized wings batting in excitement.

" This is a cliché."

I mumble as Asmo wraps his arms around me.

" I need to go. I'm sure we'll see each other soon. You know I'll always be here. Literally. And I do hear you, you know?"

He pokes his mark, above my heart and pouts.

" ...I know... see you soon Asmo."

I pick his hand and kiss it.

Then I wake up. It's still the middle of the night. My room is cold.

There on my window sill are two roses. One peach and one dark pink.

The End

______________________________

Special dedicatory to: @shortnessangel

and @asmoluvsyou .

Bunny Backpack comes from: https://kawaiibabe.com/products/creepy-bun-backpack

(Curiosities: The perfumes are gender neutral, I can still link you the page where I found them.

The colour of the roses have a specific meaning. I can post the pic I got it from if you want.)

[comfy-whumpee]

Bloodletting

CN: again, dehumanisation, ‘it’ pronouns, blood. @whumptober2020 Day 9: Ritual Sacrifice.

@lonesome--hunter, @iaminamoodymoodtoday, @wildfaewhump, @ishouldblogmore, @lektricwhump, @that-one-thespian, @raigash @paingineering, @whumpywhumper

 Patience Penrose was the last man standing.

Nobody else had passed the confrontation with the demon. Nobody could match up to just how much he’d gotten out of the creature, and the tact with which he’d handled it. He’d known, then and there, that he’d won. He was the apprentice now, serving Lady Irene, and the village were in envy, and he never had to see his family again.

And, thanks to the demon’s taunts, Lady Irene was letting him live as a man, and it made everything brighter.

Everything except one.

“Lower the cage,” Lady Irene said. She was standing at the altar, hands folded directing Mr Fitch, her servant and devotee. Mr Fitch carefully unwound a length of chain from the wall at the side of the bell tower, and secured it. Then, he released the clamps that kept the upper chain in place. The cage fell, swooping down like a diving kestrel, and came to a sharp stop a foot above the ground with a metallic thud.

The demon inside was awakened by the movement, eyes wide, already drawing back away from the cage door. Patience could see its chest moving rapidly, suggesting the sharp breaths of fear. The demon truly was an expert at appearing human.

“The barrier, Patience.” He glanced over to see Lady Irene looking at him with her strange, reddish-brown eyes.

“Yes, my lady.” He hurried to comply, painting the red paste across the stones as she had instructed, creating a corridor to the altar. Not that it was the original altar, long rotted away in the damp after the church had been abandoned. This altar was more like an anvil of metal, with two heavy handles on either end. Patience daubed a wide circle around it with the brush, making sure there were no gaps, as instructed. Then they fetched the box of glass bottles Lady Irene had collected. Some of them had been washed with boiling water just yesterday, for reasons Patience was unsure of. He set the box down beside the altar, on the small table he would be attendant to during the ritual.

A ritual. Already, Lady Irene was showing him her secrets. He would do everything perfectly.

The church was silent but for the rattle of chains, as Patience kept his eyes on the ground, his heart beating quickly with excitement. When footsteps approached, he looked up, to see Mr Fitch leading the demon to the altar up the corridor he had drawn. There were chains tight around its wrists and ankles, and the way it moved was a strange kind of hop, like a hare on the moors.

It didn’t fight. Its eyes were low and dull. Mr Fitch laid it on the altar, and the chains went around the handles, locking the creature down with arms above its head.

Through the rags it wore, Patience could see bruised and bloodstained skin. On its bare foot was a mark, carved into the skin. The mark of binding.

It was panting heavily. Every limb was tense. Patience looked down at it, strung out like that, body exposed, waiting in suspense for what happened next, and felt like he was watching a butcher, not a great alchemist.

Lady Irene was watching him when he looked up. “Are you dismayed?” she asked, her tone mild. “That this is not beautiful work?”

“No, my lady.” Patience half-bowed, keeping his eyes away from the demon. It wouldn’t do to seem tempted. “Only curious.”

“Curious as to what?”

They thought carefully about their answer. “The ritual. The process of moving it, binding it.”

The faint curl to her lip told him it was a good answer. “Those are only the preparations. Watch well and learn.”

From the sleeve of her dress she drew a dagger in a simple sheath. It was well cared for, Patience saw, as she drew it. Mr Fitch leaned over the demon, laying his hands on its shoulders. Patience uncorked one of the bottles and stepped forwards too.

With a practised motion. Lady Irene opened a line across the inside of the demon’s upper arm.  Patience watched the blood bead up and flow to the end of the cut, where the thin elbow poked into the air. He pressed the glass to the skin, indenting it slightly, so that the first droplet of blood rolled into the vial.

“Good,” Lady Irene murmured. She moved the knife again, deepening the cut until the blood flowed. She cleaned and sheathed the knife, and went to the table.

Patience stayed exactly where he was, watching the blood. He couldn’t spill a single drop. When his bottle filled, Lady Irene would be behind him with the next, and then he with the next, and so on until they were all filled. The creature would bleed as long as they needed.

Its eyes still stared straight up at the rafters. It’s face was haggard and blank. Perhaps it did not feel pain.

Lady Irene moved the next bottle in, and Patience withdrew. He replaced the stopper and placed it into the emptied box, pale glass giving a shine to the dark liquid inside. He looked at it for a moment, considering the surreal sight. It was the reddest thing he had ever seen.

By his third bottle, the wound had closed. Lady Irene opened it again. The bloodletting continued.

The only sound was the laboured breathing of the demon, louder and heavier as the ritual continued. Its eyes glazed with pain, its eyelids fluttered. It took eight further bottles for the wound to close again. Then twelve.

Altogether, Patience and his mistress filled thirty-one bottles with demon blood. It was fascinating, then dull, then exhausting by the end. Even the demon seemed to be almost unconscious. Perhaps it did feel pain after all. It certainly acted the part impeccably. Could that be faked?

The crate was refilled slowly, and each bottle was heavy with blood that sloshed, freakishly warm to the touch, its stench thickening the air. Patience made sure his hands didn’t shake. Making a demon bleed, even one as pathetic as this, was a feat few humans could boast.

It didn’t feel like a victory for humanity, though. More like work, and ugly work at that. There was no grandness to this private sacrifice.

But Patience wasn’t interested in grandeur. The demon was just one of the ingredients in the elixir. This was no different to gathering herbs. No different at all.

Mr Fitch put the demon back in its cage and into the air. Patience cleaned up the red paint, that he now realised was the demon’s own blood. Lady Irene took the crate of bottles to her private workshop, and was not seen for the rest of the day.

Mr Fitch went to buy food. Patience sat in the vestry and tried to rest. The church was almost silent, again.

The only sounds were the demon’s sobs, echoed through the empty chamber.

Patience tried not to listen.