#* ( edit. ) prophecies told of you.

[aethon-recs]

23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 (One-Shot Edition)

Happy birthday to Tom! 🤍 Here's a round-up of some of the most interesting one-shots that I came across in 2023. I tried to include a broad range of tropes and themes and ratings, but I haven't read everything published on AO3 in the past year, so feel free to suggest any others in the comment section or in my ask box!

Criteria for this list: one- (or two-) shot, complete, published in 2023. Can be read in 1 sitting. The 2nd part of this list (23 longfics updated in 2023) coming soon. Happy reading!

*

23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 — One-Shots

A Deathly Visit by @purplewitch156 (E, 7k, complete)

There once was a wizard who feared Death more than anything.

a dream is a wish by @funkyatheart (E, 5k, complete)

Harry is no stranger to wet dreams. Nightmares too, of course. They mingle, and blend together in all the wrong and most alluring ways.

A Total Absence of Light by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 8k, complete)

My name is Tom Riddle, and I am the Boy Who Lived. Something happened to turn Harry Potter into the Dark Lord, and I will do whatever it takes to learn his secrets. I don’t care that he killed my parents. I don't care that he stole my childhood. All I want is to earn the right to call myself his apprentice.

and you'll forget who i have been by @apodius (M, 3k, complete)

Tom hugs you, and for a second you relax. And then you feel a sting on your bicep through your shirt, and the world goes fuzzy.

Anniversary by @vdoshu (E, 4k, complete)

There’s a feather-light touch to Harry’s scar, one that lingers before trailing around the side of his face, coming to rest over his lower lip and tugging it slightly. Harry steels himself, then opens his eyes. “Hello, husband,” he says, facing Voldemort’s hungry gaze. “Happy anniversary.”

Apotheosis by @duplicitywrites (M, 7k, complete)

Growing up side by side with Harry Potter, beloved prophecy child, Draco learned two very important things: One, Voldemort was a god, terrifyingly monstrous and more powerful than any wizard on the planet. And two, Harry Potter was his.

Banish Me to the Garden of Eden by @contrarywiseizybel (M, 7k, complete)

Harry Potter had expected the green of the killing curse, not the red of a stunning spell. He couldn't have guessed that Voldemort would discover the truth first, and chose to trap his wayward horcrux. And in his new cage there is a very simple rule: behave and be rewarded, act out and be punished. He had been asked to die, never told to live.

Cicatrize by @noumena-writes (T, 5k, complete)

When hit with Voldemort's killing curse, Harry awakens in King's Cross. Only thing is, Dumbledore is not the one waiting for him there.

Frigid by @mrviran (E, 3k, complete)

In which one of Voldemort's Horcruxes is broken, and needs to be fixed.

Game On by penn_and_paige (T, 13k, complete)

Tom Riddle didn't pay attention to Harry Evans — that is, of course, until Evans tried to kill him.

haunt me, then by i_am_a_tree (M, 5k, complete)

"Death," Potter says, an inexplicable expression on his face that Voldemort instinctively does not like, “is quicker and easier than falling asleep."  Voldemort does not deign that statement with a reply.

Honeyguide by @cannibalinc (E, 7k, complete)

“I need an Alpha," Tom states. "Someone older. Someone already established within the Ministry with strong connections. Someone kind, a bit stupid, and rich. A Pureblood, ideally. Someone who will soften my image.”

I'm Starving, Darling (Let me put my lips to something) by @winterdeath81 (E, 1k, complete)

Harry thought for a long time he didn't like kissing until he finds that he doesn't mind doing it with Voldemort.

Insatiate by @vdoshu (E, 2k, complete)

Voldemort stole both Harry and the Philosopher’s Stone, and doomed Harry to live a half-life. That was ten years ago.

it's kind of tripping me up babe, i've got it bad for you by @limonium-anemos (E, 3k, complete)

This could've been prevented if they were paying attention, Voldemort thinks. In which they get isekai'd into a cursed erotica book.

liquid luck by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (E, 12k, complete)

Harry is a mermaid who happens upon sea monster Voldemort, who has nefarious plans for her.

Love, Murder, Horcrux by @moontearpensfic (E, 8k, complete)

Tom makes Harry his Horcrux on the night of their wedding anniversary.

Ouroboros by @loneamaryllis (E, 5k, complete)

Red eyes followed Harrie wherever she was, in his class, in the Great Hall, walking down the corridors, out on the grounds. She could feel the weight of his gaze upon her, like scales sliding across her skin, cold, smooth, and prickling every defensive instinct she had.

Research and Development by @cannibalinc (E, 6k, complete)

Primary Objective: Establish with certainty that Subject IS or IS NOT a living Horcrux. Captured audio sample from Subject: You can’t keep me in here forever, Voldemort! Why don’t you come in here and face me, you COWARD! I’m not scared of you! Dumbledore will find me and—

Right in Front of My Salad? by IceLynx (T, 2k, complete)

In which Draco Malfoy is dead in the kitchen, Harry is regretting moving in with his boyfriend, and Tom has never been more in love.

Plains of oblivion by @milkandmoon-ao3 (E, 3k, complete) 

Trapped in the past with no way home, a disillusioned Harry executes a plan to make an ally of the rising Dark Lord and reshape history.

That's Money, Honey by @dividawrites & @duplicitywrites (E, 10k, complete) 

Tom is a dear friend to many beautiful older women who love to treat him like their beloved son by spoiling him with presents. It is the perfect gateway to the perfect lifestyle—one full of frequent spa days, free holidays abroad, and all of the latest fashions. When Auror Harry Potter claims to be investigating Tom's 'inappropriate' relationships, Tom decides the best course of action is to instigate some 'inappropriate' behaviour of his own.

The Boy With the Green Ribbon by @meles-merrivale (T, 6k, complete)

In another world, what Sirius Black finds when he sprints into Godric’s Hollow that Halloween night is bad enough. In this world, it’s so much worse. It’s James—his best friend, his soulmate, the rest of him—dead in the doorway, and vibrant, warm Lily cold on the carpet, and there, standing in his crib seeing things no infant should see, is little baby Harry. And next to him, lying on the crib mattress, is the baby’s screaming head.

Would You Still Love Me? by @chiocchi (M, comic/artwork, WIP)

"Harry, would you still love me if I was a snake?" Harry knows how this question works. No matter how deranged and unreasonable it is, he has to say yes. A notion he may come to regret once Tom's questions start to get darker and oddly specific.

*

#tomarry #harrymort #tomarrymort #tomarry recs #tomarrymort recs #hp fic recs #one-shot recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #harrymort recs #2023 reads #2023 recs

[drchucktingle]

DECONSTRUCTING DAMASCUS #3

hello buckaroos and WELCOME BACK for another edition of DECONSTRUCTING DAMASCUS. as before please remember there are huge spoilers ahead and you should absolutely not read this way if you have not already read camp damascus. however if you are all finished with the dang book then trot right ahead.

this is the third in a series of posts so if you are just now finding this way you should probably trot on back and start from the first post here are links

DECONSTRUCTING DAMASCUS #1

DECONSTRUCTING DAMASCUS #2

(EDIT: PART 4 IS HERE)

alright buckaroo now that this is out of the dang way lets dive right in. WARNING: CAMP DAMASCUS SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT

DECONSTRUCTING DAMASCUS #3: HOLY AS HECK

i have talked a lot about way of layers that make up camp damascus. previously we tackled FAIRYTALE LAYER and this time we will focus on way of BIBLICAL LAYER.

FAIRYTALE layer makes for pretty complete allegory that stretches from beginning to end of story. it moves in specific order to create a full narrative. however BIBLICAL layer is much more abstract in its trot, taking in bits and pieces from various religious stories and texts and ideas and letting them weave over the top of each other. because of this, i will not be as explicit with TRUE MEANING as i have with other posts, but i will give the buckaroos some starter information on their journey to pick this one apart.

FIRST lets see what the bible has to say about some of these characters

ISAIAH is one of the first characters we meet in chapter one of camp damascus, and although he is not around for the rest of the story, his early appearance has a lot to say metaphorically. ISAIAH in the bible says this in ISAIAH 17:1 - 'a prophecy against damascus: 'see, damascus will no longer be a city, but will become a heap of ruins.''

there is a contemporary language bible name of MSG that translates isaiahs prophecy to this 'a message concerning damascus: “watch this: damascus undone as a city, a pile of dust and rubble! her towns emptied of people. the sheep and goats will move in and take over the towns as if they owned them—which they will!'

in other words if you read into name of this character in first few pages you can unlock everything about the trot of the demons and what happens the last few pages of the book.

another interesting name is SAUL GREEN. in bible saul is known for his CONVERSION ON THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS.

i will write out book of ACTS 9 where this story appears in the bible (gonna cut out a few things to make shorter for you but i will keep line numbers)

ACTS 9 (talkin about saul)

3 as he journeyed he came near damascus, and suddenly a light shone around him from heaven.

6 so he, trembling and astonished, said, “lord, what do you want me to do?”

then the lord said to him, “arise and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do.”

7 and the men who journeyed with him stood speechless, hearing a voice but seeing no one.

8 then saul arose from the ground, and when his eyes were opened he saw no one. but they led him by the hand and brought him into damascus.

9 and he was three days without sight, and neither ate nor drank.

AND THAT IS THAT BUCKAROOS. thing to consider here is that saul green went to camp damascus. he was asked to go not taken like the others (he is counselor) and on his journey he could not see (this is metaphor for memory loss) yet he walked away full of faith.

final name i would like to talk about is WILLOW. she is seen as heathen and seductress by community, especially by LISA DARLING who is roses mother. lisa is righteous and ANGRY, painting herself as the CORRECT and HOLY voice, while believing willow is a sinner and bad influence.

near end of book we learn willows legal name is MAGDALENE which is reference to mary magdalene. in bible mary magdalene is a bud of jesus, they are always hanging out and trotting around together. it is believed by most that mary magdalene was a prostitute (or former prostitute) although this is not specifically in the dang text so who the heck knows.

marys story is about the townspeople treating her badly because of her reputation, believing THEY are the morally superior folks and she is the sinner. HOWEVER jesus will not condemn mary. stepping in jesus says 'actually you townsfolk are wrong, this is my bud, who the heck are YOU to judge? you are all much worse'

so in case of camp damascus this is reflected as a way of saying, 'actually lisa, according to the bible story YOU are the ignorant one for judging willow (mary magdalene) YOU ARE IN THE WRONG.' once you connect these dots you begin to see that lisas main character trait is JUDGEMENT (like in walking game)

a few more quick notes:

all demons mentioned in camp damascus, as well as additional occult texts mentioned like THE BOOK OF THE SACRED MAGIC OF ABRAMELIN THE MAGE, are actual demon titles and real books.

there is a chapter in camp damascus titled STRAIGHT STREET. the main road down middle of the actual city of damascus is 'straight street'

the innermost layer of hell being cold is actually what is written in dantes DEVINE COMEDY. this is the ninth circle of hell and it is described as a freezing, icy landscape where buckaroos are buried up to their necks in ice and tortured.

finally i will leave you buckaroos reading this with an image of a REAL PAINTING name of THE HOLY FAMILY WITH THE MAYFLY. this is an actual painting from 1495. as you can see there is tiny mayfly in the bottom right corner. nobody knows why it is there

#deconstructing damascus #spoilers

[angelsdean]

not 2 be a clown but i really Do in my heart of hearts believe that destiel was supposed to go canon more explicitly with, if not full reciprocation from dean, then at least very obvious subtextual reciprocation. and that’s why everything is so messy in the last two eps. like i think about LAMP and that whole dance sequence and the subtext was THERE. dean’s aborted confession in the trap. dean questioning what’s real and the answer being ‘we are.’ it was all THERE and building. the confession, as much as we love it, was choppy as FUCK. it was badly edited, the shots are all over the place, extreme close-ups jumping to wide shots. the goddamn shove to the wrong wall. not good cinematography. and we know a lot of dean’s reactions were cut. we pretty much figured out the ‘don’t do this cas’ was supposed to come before the ‘i love you.’ we know cas was supposed to be in the last two eps. we Know he was meant to be in the finale. and i have Never bought the “jimmy” explanation for that either. i’m sorry but that does not make sense at all and it’s 100% in my opinion a lie they told to keep fans from being even more enraged abt cas being cut from the finale. like if he was never meant to actually be there then ok fine, sucks but ok. but if cas WAS meant to be there and they CUT HIM ??? RAGE !!!! like it makes no sense to bring back jimmy for the series finale even if they wanted to go the super tragic route like....noah fence to jimmy but who tf is thinking abt jimmy novak in 2020. and esp since cas was supposedly out of the empty and had ‘helped’ rebuild heaven....he’d literally be there !! people lie ok and they lied abt that jimmy ending lmao. esp after misha said there was ‘another ending’ where cas is in the roadhouse with dean and it’s in sam’s pov meaning years after dean died, meaning they’ve been in heaven together a long time at this point. anyways, my third eye is open and i’ve Seen the truth and i Know the real ending (which still would not have been great at all bc they’d be DEAD) involved dean and cas together at the roadhouse (i saw you funko pops) being no-so-subtextually flirty and sam showing up and kansas the band plays while deancas play footsies at the bar. but the see-double-yew killed it bc they suck and hate love. but i SAW it. i know it’s real. apollo prophecy ball hit me. 

#when the spn tell all book / documentary comes out you'll all see #sorry i'm losing it #destiel nov 5th breakdown is really hitting #vic.txt #deancas #destiel #nov 5th #spn 15x18

[solaariia]

the self-fulfilling prophecy and the power of the spoken word

hellour again! i’m free these days, so i’d thought i’d make another long post; this time about the self-fulfilling prophecy and how Florence Scovel Shinn writes about a similar concept in her book The Game of Life and How to Play it. specifically, in the third chapter.

i really like Scovel Shinn’s works, especially because she was one of the pioneers of the New Thought school at the time, even before Neville. it’s clear that she was a very wise metaphysical author, and more people should give her some credit!

i love my major, and i love manifestation. so any chance i have to correlate both is one i will take!

remember the academic book i got this information from is Social Psychology 11th Edition authored by Kassin, Fein and, H.R. Markus. i’ll try to condense the information to make it less convoluted and understandable.

what is the self-fulfilling prophecy?

according to sociologist Robert Merton, the self-fulfilling prophecy is a process by which one’s expectation about someone will eventually lead to that person behaving in ways that confirm those expectations. in other words, the perceiver's (person who takes note of another) expectation can actually lead to its own fulfillment, a self fulfilling prophecy.

this hypothesis actually lay dormant until Robert Rosenthal and Lenore Jacobson, published the results of their research in a book titled Pygmalion in the Classroom.

what did this study consist of? well, these researchers noticed that teachers had higher expectations for students who performed better in the classroom and they wondered whether these expectations influenced student performance rather than the other way around.

to address the question, they told teachers in a San Francisco elementary school that certain pupils were on the verge of an intellectual growth spurt. the results of an IQ test were cited, but in fact, the pupils had been randomly selected. eight months later, when real tests were administered, the "late bloomers" exhibited an increase in their IQ scores compared with children assigned to a control group. they were also evaluated more favorably by their classroom teachers (Kassin 144).

why should we be careful about what we say?

we can transform our expectations of others into reality using a three-step process:

- first, a perceiver forms an impression of a target person, which may be based on interactions with the target or on other information.

- second, the perceiver behaves in a manner that is consistent with that first impression.

- third, the target person unwittingly adjusts his or her behavior to the perceiver's actions. The net result is behavioral confirmation of the first impression.

in simpler terms, what we think is what we project onto others. that process is called the confirmation bias. this is nothing more than the perceiver asking the target person questions that confirm their beliefs. for example, if we assume that a person is in a varsity team because of the jacket they’re wearing, we will ask them things that either confirm or deny that assumption. small things like these that we do unconsciously:

“are you on the basketball team?”

“do you go to blank university?”

we can also apply this to ourselves:

(shown on a pic because i don’t wanna copy paste the info :D)

using psychology to tie into the law and my previous long post about the self-concept, we can see why words and the way we perceive ourselves is important when we reprogram our minds into thinking in a more positive light.

Florence Scovel Shinn, The Game of Life and How to Play It

chapter III, The Power of the Word

“By thy words shalt be justified, and by thy words shalt be condemned.”

what does Scovel Shinn say about the spoken word?

in her first book The Game of Life and How to Play It, she mentions a saying that reads: “man only dares use his words for three purposes: to heal, bless or prosper.” she also mentions that what man says of others will be said of him, and what he wishes for another, he is wishing for himself (Scovel 24).

“Curses, like chickens, come home to roost.”

what does this mean? well, like we saw in the bit about the self-fulfilling prophecy, what we say about others is what we attract for ourselves. for example, if we wish ill on—say—another tumblr user, we are sure to receive it as well. on the other hand, if we are kind to one another and support our journeys with manifestation, we will be able to reach our own success.

edward art mentions this too. but he calls it something more simple. love.

Scovel Shinn mentions in this chapter that when the subconscious is flooded with good things, or words in this case, the superconscious (God or imagination) and man are one.

“It is safe to say that all sickness and happiness come from the violation of the Law of Love.”

in this story she mentions an actress with a terrible skin disease:

as we can see in this story, any problems in the outside world indicate a deeper issue in the mind.

“As the within, so the without.”

why do i say that Florence Scovel Shinn’s beliefs coincide with the self-fulfilling prophecy?

we know that the self fulfilling prophecy implies that the way we perceive others is the way they will reflect on the outside. this is what the good-will Scovel Shinn mentions is about.

"But I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which spitefully use you and persecute you."

conclusion

sometimes we get jealous of others' journeys. we read a success story and wonder “what am i doing wrong? maybe if i do what this person did i will manifest all my desires.” but remember we’re all different. what works for another might not work for us, and that’s okay :)

the beauty about spirituality is that we all have our own paths to follow, each with their unique experiences. trying out techniques you don’t like because you saw them in a “this is the fastest way to manifest” video will not fulfill you. and what doesn’t fulfill you will only make you give up.

i’ve seen this thrown around loablr and shiftblr, but i’ll reiterate in this post. please don’t police others on their journey. the only thing that will do is set you back.

next time you see a success story around the community, be happy for them! if anything, it’s a great thing to see on your dash because it's proof that the law always works in your favor. every time. so let’s wish each other well, practice gratitude, and focus on ourselves!

"There is peace on earth for him who sends goodwill to man!"

ps im plugging the song i listened to while writing this post because sharing is caring. take care!

#shiftblr #loassumption #loa tumblr #loablr #florence scovel shinn #reality shifting #shifting #quantum jumping #manifesting #law of assumption #edward art #manifesation #loa blog #loa #shifting realities #reality shift #shifting motivation #shifting community #shifting blog #shifters #loa motivation #informative #social psychology #psychology #Spotify

[leftduck9986]

Picture This (What's in the Cardboard Box? A Meta/Theory/Watsit Featuring Mary Poppins)

Happy New Year!

A fun theory for you, told with accompanying picture collages from the Good Omens series, spoilers for Disney's Mary Poppins and occasional quotes transcribed from the Good Omens audio book.

As unbelievably silly this theory is, please remember, DO NOT ASK OR TAG NEIL GAIMAN ON FAN THEORY, thank you kindly.

After Armageddon is averted at the airbase, Aziraphale and Crowley are worried about what will happen to them:

"Is is over do you think?" Crowley shrugged. "Not for us, I'm afraid."

"I don't think you need to go worrying. I know all about you two. Don't you worry."

Adam knows all about Aziraphale and Crowley, ooOOOOooo!

He ALSO knows:

that Crowley had seen Mary Poppins on television one Christmas (...) and while he toyed with the idea of a hurricane as an effective and incredibly stylish way of disposing of the queue of nannies (...) outside the Cultural Attaché's Regents Park residence, he opted for a tube strike instead. And when the day came, only one nanny turned up;

that Aziraphale is extremely intelligent - And it was an angelic intelligence, which, while not being particularly higher than human intelligence, is much broader and has the advantage of having thousands of years of practice. - and what took Agnes Nutter's descendants centuries to decipher, he did in next-to-no-time, and;

that Anathema Device received Agnes Nutter's Further Nice and Accurate Prophecies and chose not to continue her life as a descendant.

He stopped halfway across the field. Someone was burning something. He looked at the plume of white smoke above the chimney of Jasmine Cottage and he paused. And he listened. He could hear laughter. It wasn't a witch's cackle - it was the low and earthy guffaw of someone who knew a great deal more than could possibly be good for them.

The white smoke writhed and curled above the cottage chimney. For a fraction of an instant, Adam saw outlined in the smoke a handsome female face. A face that hadn't been seen on Earth for over three hundred years. Agnes Nutter winked at him.

And if Adam knows what Agnes knows, there's no need to go messing anybody about. No need to worry ...

In the 1964 Disney film, Mary Poppins, Jane and Michael's letter advertising for a new nanny is torn up by their father Mr Banks and thrown into the fireplace. The shredded pieces of paper fly up and out of the chimney.

After a sudden and rather focused hurricane blows the queue of other nannies away, in blows the Practically-Perfect-in-Every-Way Mary Poppins. During her "interview" she reads from Jane and Michael's advertisement, MIRACULOUSLY intact.

∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢

Musical interlude: when Aziraphale arrives in Edinburgh, the show music makes me want to sing "Chim Chim Cher-ee" (hmm, same style and minor in tonality, with the visual of all those chimney rooftops in-scene - that's gotta be on purpose, no?)

∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢

The heavenly miracle sound - there are 2 parts to it. First, a descending bass, Vvvvvvmmm, second, a choral "ah" layered with shimmering. So, if attempting to sing it A Cappella: "Vvvvvvmmm-AH-shh"

At the end of Gabriel's trial: "I'll just need a-" He hears (edit, Sunday 7th Jan 2024: initiates the miracle with his eyes and we hear) the bass drop, Vvvvvvmmm, looks up in time to catch the cardboard box on the latter miracle sound, AH-shh, then looks inside the box and smiles in recognition. He now has a mission, and whomever has just sent him the box - and what's inside it (edit, Sunday 7th Jan 2024: the cardboard box) - is going to help.

At the very beginning of Heaven's overhead CCTV footage, the cardboard box can be seen with a very dark something inside (zooming in is required at this stage as the image begins small). Being able to see clearly to the bottom of the box's interior, in relatively natural light at the bookshop, one would think the intensely bright light in Heaven would also allow for a clear view, especially from above ...

While the Further Prophecies were only loose pages - Agnes would have known that they were going to be burnt anyway, so why go to the trouble of having them published and bound? - they could have been miracle-d into something modern and fancy, perhaps in the style of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy?

Gabriel places the matchbox in with it (I know I'd be worried about the fly escaping, as well as it being jostled about with the matchbox once Gabriel turns the cardboard box up-side-down, but after seeing the fly crawl back into the cardboard box just before Aziraphale brings it inside the bookshop, I'm trusting in the fly's ability to be controlled by will of thought and that the fly knows to stay close to its master). He closes just 2 flaps of the box and then a bass whoosh sounds in the right speaker (not part of the soundtrack). The "book" has entered the fly! Has it stayed in the fly?

Then, on Earth, Gabriel approaches the bookshop. The only Whickber Street person seen to be using their phone AS A PHONE and not a camera, [placeholder name "Mary"] is listening intently. Perhaps the voice on the other end of the call says something like, "how goes operation Escort the Queen to the Hive?" and perhaps she answers, "we have the package safely surrounded, it has almost arrived, standby ..."

Then, she and hand-on-face-guy have front row 'seats' (standing room only) to the show, behind Gabriel; beginning to lift her phone when it looks like Gabriel has been rejected entry, before Aziraphale finally agrees to let him in. She is the very first to leave the scene when the mission is complete, signalling for everyone to resume their usual buzzing about, as if to say, "He's in. Aaaaaand we out!"

(These last two paragraphs were a summary of my first Tumblr post, The Whickber Street Bees and Their Queen.)

∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢

When Jim explains that he feels like an empty house, he justifies remembering "how it all began" by looking where the furniture isn't (the gaps!) and it seems that every other instance - lavender eyes activated or not - is covered here with this statement, what with recalling more about where his memory is, as well as Metatron's "institutional problem" line from the trial. The only instance unaccounted for with his explanation, especially because of the trance-like state of delivery followed with Jim in distress (not quite the same as his first memory in episode 2) - the tempest prophecy from episode 3.

Perhaps Gabriel was in part control about what thoughts needed to remain in his head, or it's simply because they were the last ones in use, kept at the forefront by will and repetition, in order to get himself to the bookshop. Though, he was given an ineffable assist, which perhaps included re-configuring the 4 box flaps to collapse, interlocking pin-wheel style?

So, the Whickber Street "bees" have provided an escort for getting the Queen to the hive or if you prefer, the book delivered to the librarian/historian. However, if the book was the first thing to enter the fly and then say, was accidentally swapped into Gabriel for his memories, the Tempest prophecy came forth when Crowley accessed it, by means of a keyword. An INDEX!!!

Agnes has heard you Crowley, and Agnes says, "N-gotchya."

∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢

According to a previous meta/theory, the event this prophecy is referring to has already happened, so it would make sense that, as Anathema's mother says in S1E2, "The answers are always in the book, it's just sometimes you don't see them 'til afterwards."

Or rather, as Anathema says to Newt in the book: "[Agnes] managed to come up with the kind of prediction that you can only understand after the thing has happened ... she just picked up one little fragment of information ... most of the time she comes up with such an oblique reference that you can't work it out until it's gone past and then it all slots into place."

It would have been only too obvious to hear Jim speak this prophecy in the English style of the 1600s! But if the echoed voice we're hearing is Anathema's - did she ever pronounce the extra "e"s and "a"s at the ends of words, in the show?

∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢ ∢

When Gabriel has his memories returned to him, has the book re-entered the fly?

When he and Beelzebub are reprising Everyday, is Gabriel, with his left finger, releasing the fly into the room, for Crowley to capture shortly afterward once 'alone' (the chair facing the staircase)?

WITH. HIS. TONGUE???

Just after Aziraphale touches his fingers to his lips, is he repositioning the fly for safe-keeping, as with The Bullet Catch?

Finally, in the lift during the closing credits, Aziraphale is trying so hard NOT to smile before giving in. It's as if ...

As If ...

AS IF HE IS READING THE BOOK!!! Discovering and reading the book, turning the pages with his eyes right before the big smile!

AAAAAAAHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And now Aziraphale knows what Agnes knows.

From experience, he can trust that any prediction made by Agnes Nutter will always be "on the money."

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #good omens theory #still haven't grasped the difference between meta and theory #really NOT liking how the Metatron's use of the phrase “Spit-spot” hit me just now with a pang

[queerlyvictorian]

I don’t do this often, but Ep. 22 of The Wizard, the Witch, and the Wild One requires me to get out these thoughts the instant I’ve finished the episode. Sneak peek: it’s about Suvi…

SPOILERS BELOW, SO BEWARE THE NOT CAUGHT UP FOLKS

Brennan’s take on prophecy continues to drive me insane. Steel argued last ep that diviners are susceptible to illusions, but I was still so high off of my love of Uncle Sly that I only really listened to her this time around — a good diviner is one who is right 51% of the time. I was taking for granted, given the leeway Sly receives, especially regarding his finances, that wizards put so much stock in his abilities that his words should be taken as gospel. But Steel is an example of exactly what Sly said about why he isn’t respected. You can’t receive acclaim for stopping tragedies that never come to pass. Steel’s doubts about the relability of divination are so in line with her obvious pragmatism. and have also given me a more balanced view on the prophecies we received in “Later Than You Think”… which will also give me a way to sleep at night regarding the fact that Suvi now feels so incredibly far from joining Ame at the Coven of Elders meeting now. I can tell myself that Sly could have been fooled, or wrong about how certain he was that Suvi needed to be there…

Brennan had Sly say things that felt true, but I don’t doubt that there was also some powerful understanding of the world that went into them. I didn’t know exactly what it would mean that Suvi wouldn’t receive permission to leave, but then we saw in this ep and it just made sense. Through an understanding of the changes to the Citadel that were coming, and an understanding of Suvi’s character (esp. her dynamic with Steel), he saw that he had a way of keeping Suvi still. Just have Steel give her a direct order. Suvi saw what happened the last time she was made to disobey Steel by her friends. So she’s not following this time. Not only that, but she tries to bring them back to her. Suvi told Sly that she understood that they wouldn’t let her leave, but being confronted with the actual circumstances in the moment meant Aabria had the opportunity to (in my opinion) lean into the storytelling by (as she put it) making “big swings.”

As he predicted, the way Sly told Suvi the prophecy about her departure and her importance to Ame’s survival didn’t affect her in-the-moment decision. It isn’t a situation where knowing the prophecy helps make it come true. To me it smacks a little of the original etymology of “prophecy” as a diagnostic device. These are true (if somewhat vague) statements about how the world tends to function. Which means that they don’t play a huge factor in the decision-making of Suvi, as the character of the trio who is of the world and molded by systems in a way our Witch and our Wild One are not. [EDIT: And, as Aabria herself pointed out in the comments in this post, the prophecy wasn)t explicitly about the Citadel, which means the ultimate manifestation of that prophecy caught Suvi off guard]

Aabria (@quiddie) made an incredibly hard RP choice by making the decision that was correct for her character, in spite of her awareness that the choice would make her job as a player so much more difficult.

And I love her for it.

#queerlyvictorian posts #aabria iyengar #unbelievable #brennan lee mulligan #an unspeakably taleneted crafter of story worlds and their reasonable consequences #this is an appreciation post #worlds beyond number #the wizard the witch and the wild one #worlds beyond number spoilers #the wizard the witch and the wild one spoilers #suvirin kedberiket #wwwo #wwwo spoilers

[drconstellation]

The Passion Of Jimbriel

Part 1: The Entry into Soho

The story of events leading up to the crucifixion of Jesus, and the days following, until his ascension to Heaven, are collectively known as the Passion narratives. It comes from the Latin "to suffer," or "to endure."

More than one op has mentioned there are parallels to this in S2, so I thought I would try and find how well the whole narrative was followed. Oh yes, is the short answer, it certainly does! And how! And in places you might be surprised about. I hope this series of metas might answer some of the odd mysteries of "why is that there...? that are still floating around at the moment for you.

I've tried to match the narratives to scenes and incidents in S2 as closely as I can, but I only have sketchy Anglican Christian background, so if you have had a more thorough Catholic upbringing than me and see something I have missed, slip me a message and I'll do my best to edit things.

A word of warning before we start - it's not a linear match-up. I'm planning to run through the traditional sequence of the Passion in order, but will match with the S2 scenes as needed, and those are scattered back and forth in time. It's Catch-22 again - everything thrown up in the air and landing at seeming random places, where ever they seem to fit best for the narrative.

AZIRAPHALE: Ah, you startled me. GABRIEL: Is that good? AZIRAPHALE: I just didn't see you coming.

I actually thought I might start with this little scene, where Jim gives Aziraphale a jump-scare by creeping up next to him silently. Annoyed, Aziraphale tells him to make some noise as he moves about, and Jim trolls him with some creaking noises, before starting to sing.

There were prophecies about the arrival of Jesus, but the ironic thing here is that Aziraphale, someone who has a vast collection of prophecies and is someone you could consider an expert, had no warning of Gabriel's arrival - he just crept up to the door as a nasty surprise!

Starting proper, there were the three temptations while Jesus was fasting in the wilderness.

Making bread out of stones (I've also covered the Eccles Cakes here in the Altar of Eccles Cakes. They have multiple purposes!)

2. Being tempted to jump from a pinnacle of a temple and relying on angels to break his fall.

3. Being tempted to worship Satan in return for ruling all the kingdoms of the world.

This one was actually covered in S1, at Golgotha. I know Crowley mentioned to Aziraphale that he was the one who tempted Jesus, but I wrote a meta about it because I realized most people were missing the joke in the TWO demon names that Aziraphale suggested Crowley had changed his name to, and how that relates to that particular temptation.

The last miracle performed before the Passion was the raising Lazarus from his tomb, four days after he had died.

After Crowley is dragged down to Hell for an interview with Lord Beelzebub and finds out they are being threatened with the Book Of Life for being involved with Gabriel, he rushes back to Aziraphale and says they have to hide them. As they decide they will try a shared minor miracle Jimbriel descends the spiral staircase:

GABRIEL: Hello. Where did you come back from? CROWLEY: Outside. GABRIEL: Outside? Hmm. Is it big? Can I see the outside? CROWLEY: No, no, no, no, no. No, no no. You need to stay here, inside the bookshop. We can look after you in here. Just stay here.

Inside? Inside the tomb? Aziraphale has even 'wrapped' him up for the occasion.

Later, we find out that:

AZIRAPHALE: Jim is in his bedroom upstairs. I told him bookshops are always closed on a Wednesday. As for Inspector Constable, at a guess, they were sent to verify the 25 Lazarii miracle you and I seem to have accidentally performed together the other night. CROWLEY: That's how you lot measure miracles? How many times it could have brought someone back from the dead?

Uh huh. The miracle of Lazarus.

The Entry into Jerusalem

Jesus made his way into Jerusalem by donkey to show that he came in peace, not as conquering king on a horse. Gabriel does the same.

But he walked in, you say, on foot!

Yes, but he walked by the Dirty Donkey pub on his way to bookshop.

Next, was the Cleansing of the Temple.

What temple? The bookshop, of course! Is it not a temple of books?

Aziraphale sets Jim to cleaning it, with a duster.

I'd say you could also call the bookshop a temple to Crowley - it is decorated in his colours, after all. The presence of Jim initially drives the merchants and money dealers demon away, snatching his sunglasses from his mini-altar as his goes.

The last step on the Passion I'll cover in this meta is the Anointing of Jesus. It tells the story of how Jesus had an expensive perfume, worth a year's wages, poured on his feet from an alabaster jar by woman who was considered sinful. The gathered Disciples were aghast at this waste - they asked why she did not sell the perfume instead and give the money to the poor. Jesus thanked her for preparing him for burial.

This one had me stumped for a while, and I had to think hard about where something had been "poured out" on feet, because I was pretty sure no one had been "anointed" on the head, which is another version of this part of the narrative. Then I remembered seeing a GIF that was Aziraphale focusing on the floor for a number of seconds after Crowley had upended the box Gabriel had carried to the bookshop with his fly in it to read the message on the bottom of the box.

My precious...! You poured them out at your feet, Crowley!

Alabaster is a soft white stone that is easy to carve. The bland cardboard box makes a good analogy for this. And in it we see Aziraphale has filled it with priceless treasures - not one but two lost Shakespeare plays!

If at this point you are going "Wait - Wot? Now you're telling me both Jim/Gabriel and Crowley are playing the part of Jesus here?" I'm saying yes. It's not the first time I've said it. I'm not the only op who has been saying it, either. And as we head into part two of this meta you'll see Crowley take on more of this role from Jim/Gabriel. The two of them have a lot in common, much more than you might have suspected or might even want to acknowledge. This is the past echoing into the present again. I think it also gives us some interesting things about the future to contemplate.

Next: Part 2 - Trials and Denials

Where we move on to the Last Supper, and the Arrest of Jesus before his before he is judged before a court of priests and then Pontius Pilate, and the gathered crowd.

This post was inspired by @mr-period 's long meta Remembering Something Forgotten-Where is Jimmy Boy?

More reading on the Dirty Donkey in my meta here.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley #good omens analysis #good omens theory #gabriel #jimbriel #the passion of jimbriel #the passion #golgotha #the dirty donkey #i am in the fly #25 lazurii

[fallingsolonely]

Heaven & Hell

Warning: This one-shot contains dark and sexual content.

[This is an edited version of a one-shot I wrote a few years ago, I hope you enjoy!]

Theme: Demon!Harry

Word count: 12.8k

~~~~

Earth. What a magnificent paradise. Created perfectly in my father's image.

I've been reading about it for years. I've been begging for almost a millennia to visit.

Aristol, my brother and also, in his words, my 'superior' has long refused. But I'm finally getting my chance.

I finally got my first assignment on Earth.

Aristol is furious about it, I know he's been going behind my back to Mariella and telling her that 'I'm just a child and can't handle a place like Earth, let alone go on this assignment'

He was adamant that it should be him.

1. I am not a child. I'm not much younger than Aristol as much as he likes to claim.

2. I have proven myself, I've done all my studies and I have trained for this my entire life.

As stunning as Earth is, I am well aware of the way it has been corrupted.

But where there is a storm, a rainbow is not far behind.

I've been on Earth for almost two weeks now. Europe. I've only seen maps, to be here is surreal.

To see how my father's creation has grown into what it is, it's amazing.

Humans are fascinating to me.

I'm not meant to interact much, but I can't help it.

Especially my assignment. A beautiful little boy by the name of Isaac.

A prophecy that came to the angels attention exactly 12 years ago, the day he was born.

I like to look at Mariella as a mother figure. She believes in me, pushes me to be strong.

Shes our link, almost like what humans would call a telephone.

She speaks directly with our father and 12 years ago, we received a message about a little boy with astounding power.

For the first 11 years of his life, he would be protected from the most awful parts of the world and the creatures who surround it. But, when he reaches 12, his presence would officially take hold and all creatures would become aware of him.

Which is incredibly dangerous.

That's where I come in. Angels have been preparing for this little boys 12th birthday for a long time and we have put as much protection on him as we can.

I've been assigned to watch over him.

I was strictly told not to interact with him. Just watch.

On my first day of observing him, he knew it.

He touched my hand and the first thing he asked me was if I wanted to get icecream with him.

It's almost like he knew. Treating me like he's known me his whole life.

I've never tried food of any kind before, but it's amazing.

Icecream, it's sweet and cold and comes in so many different flavors I feel dizzy when I have to choose.

For the last two weeks I've been meeting Isaac at the Icecream truck in the park near his house.

Power radiated off of this little boy and he seemed to have no clue about it. But I can see it in the way he talks, he's smart. He's intuitive and extremely wise for only being alive for a mere 12 years.

After trying icecream, I went and tried all the food I could. It's so amazing to me the things humans have created. I think my favourite is coffee.

It makes my body tingle in the strangest way.

So now, every day before I meet up with Isaac, I stop in this quiet little coffee shop.

I love watching them go about their day, humans.

I'm so grateful to the lady named Eileen who makes me a different kind of coffee every time I come in.

She's so sweet.

I don't understand Aristol's hatred towards them. The way he talks about them, like every single human is corrupt.

But it's not true. Not in the slightest.

Life, is beautiful.

"You're practically one of them" I jump slightly, looking up from the paper I am reading.

Aristol.

"I told Mariella you were to young and stupid for this assignment" He shakes his head, looking me up and down.

"You better start acting like an angel before someone snuffs you out"

Hes bitter about being pushed to the side.

"I think I blend in better like this" I smile at my brother and sip my coffee.

"I've been doing well, watching over Isaac. He's safe" He looks at me with disgust as I drink the coffee.

"We'll see"

With that, he's gone.

How Aristol doesn't see the beauty of our fathers world, is crazy to me. It's beyond incredible.

I walk along the path towards the park and to my surprise, I see Isaac.

I only see the back of his head, but he's sitting next to someone.

Hastily, I make my way over to them.

"(Y/N)!" Isaac smiles widely when I come up to them. Next to him is an unfamiliar man in a black suit.

"I made another friend" He's so happy about it. Smiling ear to ear with an icecream in his hand.

"Isaac, you should be more careful" I say it softly to him, but I can feel myself becoming more protective.

"Don't worry, pretty thing, I'm not going to hurt him"

I watch as Isaac goes to touch the man's hand, but before he can, the mystery man stands to his feet.

Already, the energy feels strange.

He stands tall, looking over me.

"Just keeping him company" The man smiles at me, scanning me with bright green eyes. In his hand, he has an icecream. As he looks over me, I watch as he licks the vanilla flavored cone.

"Enjoying this sweet little dessert" His smile turns into a smirk.

"He found me like you, (YN)" Isaac says, still smiling. Excited to be making friends.

"(Y/N), what a beautifully angelic name" He turns away from me and looks down at Isaac.

"I'll be seeing you soon, young man" He bends down to Isaac's height and smiles.

Then, he stands back up and looks at me while licking his cone. He stares me down for a moment before turning and walking away.

I can't help but feel weary as I watch him leave.

I turn to Isaac and then kneel in front of him.

I place my hand on his cheek and smile.

"I need you to be careful, Isaac" I say seriously.

"I don't want anything bad happening to you, you're special" He hugs me tightly.

"I'm sorry if I worried you, (Y/N). I'll be careful" I hug him tighter and then pull back.

"Whenever you meet someone who wants to be friends with you, I want you to touch their hand" I take his hand and hold it tightly. I know he can feel my energy through touch.

It's an ability he's unaware of even possessing.

"Okay" He agrees, holding one of my hands with both of his.

_______

I'm still worried.

The appearance of the strange man is still haunting me. Something about him isn't right. Luckily, Isaac's house is a safe haven. Enchanted by sigils meant for protection. Not even Angels can enter through it.

But to be sure, I don't stray far from his home.

The sun has set and the city is quiet.

Sleep, a source of energy humans need. I don't quite understand it, but Isaac loves to tell me about it. About the dreams he has.

Visions of someone protecting him.

Visions of shadows that he calls nightmares.

I don't like hearing about those ones, I'd do anything to make them go away.

Emotions are something all creatures feel, including angels. It's something we have to learn to control, I'm still in the learning bit.

Aristol tried to use it as an excuse for why I was unfit for this position.

At the moment, fear is swirling through me. I've never encountered the creatures that were rumored to roam the Earth.

But as I make my way around Isaac's neighbourhood, I can feel the piercing sting of someone's eyes. Like I'm being followed.

Isaac's house is on the other street, I should find a place closer to settle for the night.

Usually, I'll explore in the hours of darkness. But tonight, I'm scared.

I peak down an alley. A shortcut.

My instinct is to teleport but I don't want unwanted attention and I can already feel eyes on me.

I step into the alley. It's not super long, thankfully and in the darkness of it I feel a little safer teleporting.

I go to close my eyes, to bring myself to Isaac's street but before I get the chance, a hand clamps down over my mouth.

"Make a sound, I clip those pretty wings"

The voice whispers in my ear.

"You try anything, that precious boy is good as dead" He warned.

My first thought is to tear him away with whatever power I can, but then he mentions Isaac.

An innocent little boy.

I stop struggling against his hold on me and suddenly everything is black.

He pulled something over my head, blinding me from seeing who he is and where he takes me.

Instantly I know he's not a creature of Earth when we teleport. Not long after, I'm pushed into a chair and cuffs are tied around my wrists against the arms of the chair.

"If you're a good girl for me, perhaps I'll takes these off. Just a little precaution for my sake" He whispers, pulling away the fabric that he had put over my head.

I open my eyes and I'm met with green.

The same green eyes I had met with Isaac in the park.

Instinct takes over me and I try to get myself loose.

But my power is gone. I look down at the straps on my wrist. Each one scribed with a dark power binding sigil.

I'm trapped.

When he chuckles, I look up at him.

"No use trying with those on, love" He smiles at me.

"W-What are you doing?" I can't help it. I'm terrified.

"A little birdie told me an angel was coming to town" I look over him, he's dressed in all black, all the way down to his shoes.

"Expected more of a fight from you, angel. Never seen one give up on a fight so easily" He kneels down in front of me, our eyes level.

In a flash, I watch as each little vein in his eyes grow dark until they are black.

A demon.

Children of my fallen brother, Lucifer.

I've never met one. I never wanted to meet one. They were soulless and wicked.

"Is this your first time meeting a demon, sweetheart?" He stands up to his feet, smoothing out the suit jacket he's wearing.

The smile on his face is sickening.

"What do you want?" I want to be confident, stand my ground but my voice is quiet.

I'm so afraid.

I don't know what to do. I'm stuck.

"I'd love nothing more than to suck the sweet little soul out of your body" His smile is unwavering, his thumb running over his bottom lip as he stares at me.

"I can only imagine how it tastes-" He leans over me, biting his lip.

"So tempting, I can practically smell it" I try to push myself away from him, his hand coming up to my cheek.

His fingers are warm, burning my skin but I shiver at the feeling.

He leans down closer to me, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

"Sweet like icecream" When his eyes open again, I watch the black recede. They are green again.

"Look at you, so afraid of me. It's intoxicating" His fingers trace my jaw and then he steps away.

"So fragile" He chuckles some more.

"I'm sorry, darling. It's just amusing to me that out of all the assholes they could have sent, they sent down....you" He laughs even more.

"Sounds like a set up to me, darling. Do you really think you can protect something that everyone is looking for?" He's smiling, mocking me.

It makes me angry. I'm not weak.

I struggle against the restraints, but nothing. Not even a sliver of power.

"We know he's hidden in the area you were lurking" He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a blade. He looks it over and then back at me.

"We want the same thing, angel" His smirk makes my stomach turn.

"To see that little boy take on the world. Or more favorably, take out the world" He takes a step towards me again, twirling the blade in his hand.

"You just have to tell me his exact location" I close my eyes tightly when he begins to point the blade towards me.

"I'd hate to ruin this beautiful face" I take a deep breath when I feel the tip of the blade on my cheek.

Delicately, he moves it over my skin.

He pulls it back and I open my eyes. It's still pointed at me.

I look up at him.

"Please..." I can't do this. I can't tell him where Isaac is. I'd die to protect him.

"Please" He mocks me, rolling his eyes.

"So many things I want to do with this" He smirks and looks at the blade.

"Perhaps in another meeting, angel girl" He brings the knife down and cuts the straps binding my wrists.

"I know you aren't going to try anything, so obedient" He hums and brings his free hand up to my face. Before he can touch me, I think about breaking his hand and it does.

My power is back.

His face twists in pain for just a second before he snaps it back into place.

He glares at me, his eyes black again. He grabs me roughly, pulling me out of the chair and then grabbing my throat.

In an instant, I'm shoved against the wall.

"Try that again, I dare you" He squeezes so hard I struggle to breathe.

I want to kill him. But I can't. It will just put Isaac into more danger.

"Killing you would bring me so much joy, but no answers" He loosens his grip but his hand is still locked around my throat.

"So how about this, if you don't tell me where he is, I kill everyone on the entire block instead?" I glance around the dimly lit room. It's small. The only thing in it is the chair I was strapped to.

"Why do you want him?" You know the answer already. He's powerful.

Power is the only thing these creatures care about.

"To many questions, darling and not enough answers" I can see him getting frustrated.

"What's your name?" I reach out my hand to touch him and when I do, he drops his hand from my throat and backs away from me. He's visibly angry. The knife in his other hand is clenched in his fist.

"Tell me where he is or when I find him, I'll cut his heart out" He snapped, raising the blade at me again.

"Please, don't hurt him. I'll do anything. Just please, don't kill him" I'm desperate, I beg with the soulless man and look into his darkened eyes.

"Kill me instead, don't hurt him" His demeanor changes just slightly.

"Every angel I've met, I've never met one like you" His knife is still pointed at me, but his voice is calmer.

"So, emotional" He steps towards me again.

"My guess, you don't even know what the child is" He comes so close to me, I hold my breath.

He brings the blade up again, pushing my hair away from my face. He smiles a bit and then takes the knife away, putting it back into his jacket.

"But maybe we could think of something" He leans in even closer to me, bringing his lips to my ear.

"You'll do anything?" He pulls back to look at me, his eyes now back to green. He bites his lip.

I nod quickly, completely unaware of what's going on in his mind.

I will die to protect Isaac and if death is my fate, I will accept it.

"What is this little angel willing to give up?" He wonders, his hand coming up to my face. His finger running along my bottom lip.

I want to bite it right off, but I know it won't end well so I refrain.

"Anything, just promise me you won't hurt him"

I go to reach out to him but he grabs both my wrists and pins them against the wall.

"Sorry, angel. Demons don't make promises" He leans close to my face.

"You're just going to have to trust me, can you do that, baby?"

I know I can't. I can't trust something like him.

Hes vile and nothing good will come out of trusting him.

But what choice do I have here?

I look at him and then nod a little bit, his smirk becoming more wicked.

"What a good girl" He placed his hand on my cheek and stroked it gently.

It burns my skin like his fingers are laced with poison. But the rings on his fingers send shivers up my spine.

"Tell me, honey, just how innocent are you?" His voice is quiet and menacing.

I didn't know what he meant.

"Never got this pretty white dress dirty before?" I look at him, confused. It seemed to edge him on even more. Like he enjoyed it.

I shake my head at his question, why would I get myself all dirty?

Heaven is clean, pristine.

I miss it. Heaven is safe and pure.

"Angels, all work and no play" He leans in so close, his cheek is almost touching mine. His lips are by my ear.

"What do you do for fun, darling?" His breath is warm and I can almost feel the stubble from his face.

"I-I don't know"

Hes so close to me I feel like I'm suffocating. His scent is overwhelming.

"Would you like to know what I do?" He takes a breath, his lips touching my skin for just a split second before he steps back from me.

The blade he had put away, he takes out again.

I can't begin to imagine what a demon would do for fun.

I don't want to know.

"It depends on how I'm feeling that day, honestly"

This is it. He's going to kill me.

"Carving is fun" He brings the dull part of the blade to my cheek and out lines my jaw.

"I would have so much fun carving you-" He licks his lip.

"But that's not the fun I'm in the mood for tonight" He continues to trail the blade down my neck. I watch him.

"Call me crazy, angel. But I like you. So different from your waste of space siblings" He knicks my flesh with the blade, making me wince.

It only takes a moment before the wound heals it self.

"It just brings me so much pleasure seeing the fear in your eyes" He glances up at me.

Finally, he pulls the knife away. He puts it back into his jacket.

"Would you like to have some fun with me, baby? I'd say it's the better option"

I look away from him, still not knowing what he wants from me. What could he possibly want to do with me?

"W-What do you want to do?" I stutter on my words, avoiding his stare.

"Been with many things in my lifetime, never an angel" He smiles. But I'm still so confused.

I can't figure it out. I don't know if I want to.

"So clueless" He laughs and grabs my chin, making me look at him.

"So innocent, it makes me sick" He looks right into my eyes, holding onto my face tightly.

"Kind of hot" He glances down, looking at my lips and then back up to my eyes.

"Please, just tell me what you want" I plead with him. I'm done with his twisted games, I feel like I'm going crazy.

I have no idea what is happening.

"I want you, pretty angel. I want to taste these sweet looking lips" His thumb outlines my mouth.

"I bet they taste just as good as your soul would" He licks his lip again.

I go through the library of books in my mind, suddenly putting together what he desires.

"Copulation?" I look at him, not any less confused.

But fear rises in my stomach.

Copulation is apart of the human experience on Earth, meant for procreation. Angels can't procreate.

Even in my human form, procreating is impossible.

I've read about it, I've studied everything about the human species. I know pleasure is something humans crave and Copulation is supposed to be a joyful experience.

I know it is, it brings new life. It's amazing.

But angels are forbidden from participating in such an act. It wasn't meant for us, it's not something we crave.

I've never even thought about something like that.

For angels, it's immoral.

"So technical" He chuckles quietly.

"Have you ever felt pleasure, my darling angel?" He asks, his fingers replace the blade. They trace my skin and take the same route down along my jaw.

I can't even think about it.

There's whispers of angels who have strayed, they were never seen again.

I quickly shake my head.

"I can't. It's not meant for us" I whisper, looking at him.

"You're missing out, pretty thing" He looks at me for a moment and then backs away from me.

"Pleasure is not a sin. Why would your stupid father create something only to pick and choose who gets to enjoy themselves?" He runs his hand through his hair and smiles at me.

"W-Why do you want to do that with me?"

I look him over, he's tall. Intimidating.

"So perfect, I want ruin you" He bites his lip and stares me down.

I'd die to protect Isaac. I'd do anything.

"You won't hurt Isaac?" I ask, meeting his stare that I had tried avoiding.

He smirks.

Fear completely sinks in. If I were to be caught doing something like this, especially with a demon, I'd loose my wings.

"I just want to make you feel good, there's nothing sinful about that" His green eyes are sparkling as he looks at me.

"Why? Why haven't you just killed me?"

It's so unclear, it would be much easier for him to just get rid of me.

"Most angels I come across, usually do have that fate. Hate those arrogant fuckers" He shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

"But you, my darling, are different. Sweet little thing, innocent" He came towards me, sliding his hands up my arms.

"They all act so pure, but you should know darling, that some of your siblings are just as bad as us" He blinked, his eyes appearing black again. He brings a hand to my throat.

I take a deep breath, looking at him.

"Hm, but not you, princess" He pulls me closer, his grip getting tighter.

"You truly don't want to hurt anyone. It must be awful-" He laughs.

"Hurting people is so much fun" He squeezes hard and then let's go of me.

"So, untouched. Just the thought of putting my cock in you drives me crazy"

His words make me flinch.

Being on Earth, I've heard some of the language they use. Some words, are extremely inappropriate.

"But, I am not the type to force pleasure onto someone. I don't need to, creatures of all kinds love to throw themselves at me. I'm like, God to them" I get angry, disgusted with way he threw around my father's name.

I try to hide it, knowing he's trying to get a reaction out of me.

"What do you say, my angel? Do you want to experience pleasure you've never dreamed of?" He asks, his smile wide.

"What's your name?" I ask, my voice soft.

I vowed to die for Isaac. I will protect him no matter the cost.

"Why does it matter?" He crosses his arms.

Hes right. I don't want to hurt anyone, or anything. Not even the darkest ones. I just want to help and protect.

Most demons, were once human. If I could find that part of him, maybe this will be easier.

"Please?" I whisper, reaching up to place my hand on his cheek. His jaw clenches and he shoves my hand away from him.

"It's only fair, you know mine" I say quietly, looking up at him.

His eyes are far from innocent.

"Harry" He looks at me, his hardened state softening slightly.

"Harry..." I repeat his name under my breath. Looking down at my feet.

I wonder if that it's the name he had before he became lost.

"Isaac will be safe?" I look back up at him, his eyes now green again. I prefer the green so much more. It makes him look human.

"Perhaps" He nods just a bit.

But, he won't confirm it. He won't promise me.

Trust is the only thing I can do.

How do I trust a demon?

"You won't hurt me?" I look at my hands, they are shaking a little.

I've never even thought of doing something like this.

"So many things I want to do to you pretty girl, hurting you is not one of them. At least, for the moment. I've got other plans for you" He grabs my face and makes me look at him.

"Can't lie to you, angel. Killing you and bringing your pure little soul to hell is a dream I will be having later" He strokes my cheek.

"Maybe another day" His smirk is sinful. My breathing picks up, thinking about it. Going to hell.

"If you'd rather leave, there's the door" He backs away from me again. Giving me space.

I glance at the door. I think about teleporting away but I think of Isaac.

My mind races when I feel a pit in my stomach. Not of fear, but curiosity.

What is it about pleasure that everyone seems to desire?

"Reading people is a talent of mine, darling. I can see those pretty eyes swimming. Is this little angel feeling a sense of curiosity?"

I want to say no to him. But I can't because he's right.

My stomach turns.

I shake my head, trying to push away the feeling.

"I'm doing this to protect Isaac" I whisper, more to myself than him.

I hate it, I hate the feeling inside of me. I don't want to be curious about anything.

Never once, in my millenia have I thought about unnatural desires.

"Isn't lying a sin?" He's mocking me, I can see it.

Nothing has happened and already I feel disgraced as an angel. Thoughts I shouldn't be having are creeping into my mind and I don't know what to do.

"I-I'm not lying" I try to stand my ground, but my brain is crumbling. In his eyes, I can see the joy. I see how much he loves watching me have a moral crisis.

"Can you feel it, angel? The heat starting to burn between those cute little thighs?" He wonders, his hand sliding into my hair and pulling my face close to his.

At the mention of it, I instinctively tighten my legs together. I don't know what it is, this feeling. I don't want to feel it but I can't help it.

With each inch that he moves closer, it burns even more.

"Come on, I have a place a little more comfortable" He brushes my lips with his own, and my stomach flutters.

"Although, bending you over that chair and fucking your brains out would be very fun"

My whole body burns at his incredibly dirty words.

He smiles and grabs my hand.

In a flash, we appear in a bigger room. Against the wall is a cleanly made bed.

"Where are we?" I ask, looking around the room. The window is boarded up, preventing me from looking outside.

"Don't worry about it, darling" He says, a devilish smirk on his face.

He reaches next to my head, flicking the light on.

I try not think about the fact we could be in someone's house, what may have happened to them.

"You're so tiny" He chuckles and pushes me against the wall.

"So fucking pretty" His fingers run along my face, stopping at my lips for a brief moment before he continues down my neck.

I'm nervous, my knees feeling weak.

I'm about to throw away every rule an angel has.

But my stomach tingles when I think about his lips brushing mine.

Desire fills my consciousness and I'm scared.

I want him to do it again.

"Nervous?" He asked, pushing some of my hair behind my ear and then cupping my cheek.

He leans in, lightly pressing his lips to mine again.

The sensation of it makes me want to pull him closer.

I pull back from him, looking into his eyes.

I have no idea what I'm doing.

"I-I don't know what to do" I whisper, shyly glancing at his lips and then back at him. He smiles.

"How about-" He's so close to me, I'm getting dizzy.

"You kiss me, pretty girl?"

Our lips were almost touching. I've never been this close to someone in my entire life time.

Hesitantly, I copy him and place a hand on his cheek. Hoping he doesn't push me away again.

I look at his lips and then his eyes. I lean up towards him and close the small gap between our lips.

It lights my body up in a way I can't describe. I still haven't got a clue to what I'm doing but I try to follow his lead. I move my lips with his and I wonder if what I'm feeling is pleasure.

It doesn't feel bad. It doesn't hurt. It just makes me weak.

His hand moves slowly down my body until he reaches my thigh. He lifts it up against his hip, pulling me off the ground.

"Lift your other leg for me, baby" He mumbles and I listen to him, lifting up my other leg.

Roughly, he pushes his mouth against mine. One of his hands is holding my leg and the other slides to the back of my neck.

I find myself wrapping my hands around his neck, pulling him closer to me. The taste of him sweeter than anything I've ever tried.

He pushes his tongue into my mouth, his grip on me getting tighter with every moment.

I can't do anything about it, but an unfamiliar sound vibrates through me.

His tongue is even sweeter than his lips and I hate it. I hate how good it feels.

I can't understand why I'm feeling like this, how can something so dark make me feel so alive?

My body betrays my mind, it's craving. Desired to be touched, to soothe the ache between my legs.

My toes curl when he slides his hand under the fabric of my dress, pushing it up higher than it already is.

"I bet that cunt tastes like heaven" He pulled his lips back from me, and all I want to do is bring him back. He kisses down my neck, his prickly stubble tickling my skin.

I can't help but giggle at the feeling of it.

He pulls back to look at me.

"What are you giggling about?" He has an amused expression on his face.

My face heats up and I look away from him.

I still don't know what I'm doing.

"It tickles" I whisper and he smiles a little bit.

"Does it feel good?" He leaned back in towards my neck, kissing along my skin.

I don't want to admit it to him. I don't want him to think he's winning, but he is.

It feels amazing.

"Y-Yes" I breathe deeply, leaning my head back against the wall.

His lips continue to kiss on my skin, his other hand drawing circles on my thigh.

"Such soft skin, angel. So clean and perfect" He breathes slowly, it travels down my spine and makes me shiver.

I gasp, his teeth sinking hard into my skin. It stings but something about it makes me ache even more.

"Oh...." I grab his shoulders. My body weakening even more when he begins to suck. I bite my lip, stopping myself from letting out another noise.

It's embarrassing, the things my body is doing in response to this. I don't know how to stop it.

I don't know if I want it to stop.

"It's quite annoying that I can't leave any marks on this stunning body"

I smile a bit at that, a mini victory. It's funny that's he annoyed by how fast my body regenerates.

"You think it's funny?" I open my eyes when his teeth sink into my bottom lip.

He growls, definitely annoyed.

He leans back from me slightly and with his hand that was in my hair, he brings it to his jacket.

I think for a second that he's grabbing the blade again, but instead he pulls out a bottle.

Instantly I smell it, grimacing slightly.

Holy oil.

But there's nothing holy about it. It's a weapon used against angels. It's one of the only things that can burn our skin.

It's not permanent, but it takes much longer to heal from it.

"I wonder what would happen if I put some of this on my lips?" My eyes widen at his suggestion and he smirks.

"I like to leave my mark, darling. Have to make you remember me somehow" I watch as he opens the flask and brings it to his mouth, coating his lips and tongue. He shoves the flask back into his jacket and leans towards me.

I try to lean back from him but the wall stops me.

Just barely his lips brush over my jaw, the oil stinging my skin. I run my hands into his hair and grip it tightly, trying to pull him back.

"Harry!" I cry out when his teeth clamp down on my neck again.

This time, it burns.

The oil coating his mouth burns my flesh and I yank on his hair, trying to pull him back.

It's so unfamiliar, holy oil burns. It hurts, it's not pleasant.

But I feel pleasure and I can't comprehend how he makes it feel like this.

"Hm, that's better" He whispers in my ear, his lips coming back to mine.

Most of the oil had dissipated from his mouth, but there was a trace left.

I can feel the little needles of it against my lips.

But when he kisses me, I kiss him back eagerly. Ignoring the slight burn of it. He still tastes so good.

I'm horrified by the pleasure in my body.

I shouldn't have enjoyed it, but the feeling of his lips mixed with the burning did something to me that I can't explain.

"Would love to leave some marks all over this body, baby" He leans back into my neck, his tongue licking over the burn he created.

I fight against the sound that bubbles in my throat, still in disbelief that my body is twisting in pleasure.

My legs tighten against him, I desperately wanted to close them.

There was an ache, pulsing between my legs that I can't control. His hand that rested on my thigh made it even worse. He pushes my dress up higher and his hand comes down to my other thigh. His eyes still locked on me.

"You can't hide your desire from me, (Y/N). Those pretty little moans tell me exactly what you're feeling" He brushes my lips, his hands moving towards my inner thighs.

My breathing picks up and I look down at his hands.

My dress is pushed as far as it can go, and I know he can see my under garments.

It makes my face warm up, because he can feel the heat that's coming from them.

"Maybe I'll leave some marks on these thighs" He squeezes his hands, his lips kissing down my throat and towards my collarbone.

This time, I'm unable to keep the sound from coming out.

It's the thought of what it might feel like, his lips between my thighs coated in oil. It stings, but he makes it feel so good.

I don't know why I enjoy it. I can't even begin to think about how I'm enjoying any of this.

"You like that sound of that, baby?" He pulls back and smirks.

I shake my head, I don't want to admit it.

"Remember, angel, lying is a sin" He chuckled and moved his hands higher on the inner parts of my legs.

"You don't see me lying to you" He grabs my face with one of his hands.

"I'm going to bring you over to that bed and fuck that sweet little innocence out of you" He forces me to look at him while he says it. I bring my hands to my face, hiding from him.

I couldn't help but think about it, trying to imagine what it would possibly feel like.

"Now tell me, sweetheart, do you want me to touch you?" He rubs my thigh gently and smiles at me.

"Soothe the ache I know you're feeling" He chuckles a little bit, but I'm still covering my face. It's so warm, I feel embarrassed.

"Trying so hard to hide it from me.." He grabs my wrists and pulls them away from my face.

"Am I right, angel?"

I can't explain the emotions he's making me feel. I feel weak at how easily he sucked me into temptation but I wanted more of him.

Angels are strong, but how can I even call myself that?

I didn't put up a fight. I gave into him so quickly.

I am weak.

I pull my hands from his and bring them to his face. His skin is warm, despite his nature.

I haven't gotten the chance to really look him over. I bring my thumb to his lips, copying what he had done to me. I trace his lips, my eyes trained on them.

I can feel his stare, watching me intently.

I don't say anything to him, my voice is caught in my throat. Instead, I gently pull him to my lips. For just a moment, it's almost soft.

But quickly, he pushes his tongue into my mouth but I don't mind. It tastes sweet, like a candy.

"My little angel, you might want to ask your father to look away because I'm about to do some very bad things to you" He whispers against my lips.

He pulls us both away from the wall and grabs my hips, planting my feet back on the ground.

"So, modest" He hums and looks me up and down. I look down at what I'm wearing. A simple white dress that reached my knees. I think it's pretty. I've always loved white.

He tightens his grip on my waist and backs up until his legs reach the end of the bed. He sits on the edge of it, making us eye level to eachother.

"How about we take this off?" He slides his hands from waist up to the back of my dress.

I bite my lip, nodding at him a little.

Angels, when on earth, have a human form. It helps us blend in. It also helps us understand humans more. We don't have to worry about trivial things like sleeping, or going to the bathroom but our bodies function pretty similarly. Of course, Angels human form is much stronger than a regular human.

Harry's eyes don't leave me for a second. Hardly blinking as he pulls the zipper of my dress all the way down.

I take a deep breath. Becoming more nervous.

I've never been undressed in my life.

He slips his hand under the fabric and runs his hand up my back.

Hes so warm.

He pulls on the fabric until it falls to my ankles and suddenly I'm bare. The only thing covering me is my white under garment.

I quickly cover my chest, scared.

Hes not rough about it, but he grabs my arms and pulls them away, putting them at my sides.

"Don't be shy with me, angel. I think your body is delicious" He spreads his legs and pulls me between them. He brings his hands to the back of thighs and rubs them gently.

"So perfectly made" He bites his lip, his hands sliding higher.

I gasp when he slaps me and he laughs, his hands squeezing my behind.

"Something tells me you'd love to be bent over and whipped. I know I'd love to" He squeezes harder and I wish I could find an explanation for why it makes my body tingle so much. Not just his touch, but his words are making the heat between my legs burn.

He leans forward, his lips connecting to my skin just above my breasts. I run my hands up into his hair, lightly pulling at it.

"Been with many in my lifetime, none compare to you, angel" He squeezes the back of my thighs.

"Softest skin I've ever had the pleasure of touching" He continues with his lips on my skin, lightly biting down.

"I can only fucking imagine what it's going to feel like burying my cock in you" My legs stiffen at his words, trying to stop myself from feeling whatever it is that's raging through my stomach.

"You like it when I talk dirty to you, baby?" He pulls back and smirks at me.

"I-" I stumble on my words, trying to convince him that I don't. But my body doesn't agree. Every word, every touch makes me ache for more.

His smirk gets more wicked at my lack of words.

With a quick movement, he lifts one of my legs up onto the bed next to him, I grab his shoulders to keep myself from falling.

This position makes me feel much more vulnerable to him.

"Do you even notice how soaked you are, angel?" He laughs to himself, running his hand up my ankle until he reaches my knee.

He slows down a bit, tip toeing his fingers along my inner thigh.

He brings just the tip of his finger between my legs, pressing against where I had been dying for him touch.

"Can't wait to taste this perfect little cunt"

Just the small amount of pressure makes me buckle and I feel like I'm going to fall over. I go to pull my foot off the bed but he grabs my ankle and stops me.

"Nuh uh, honey. You're keeping your leg up for me" He warned.

"Or, I can tie you down onto the bed and have some fun with this" He pats the pocket of his jacket, referring to the oil.

My grip tightens on him.

He's hardly touched me and my body feels overwhelmed.

There's so many unfamiliar feelings swirling through me.

"Harry" I whine his name, looking at him and his sinful smirk.

"I don't play games, sweetheart. You listen to me, or you suffer the consequences" He slides his hand back up my leg, his fingers returning between my thighs.

"So sensitive, angel" He does it again, gently running his finger along me.

Instead of just once, he goes back and forth.

My leg wobbles and I try very hard to keep myself from ripping away from him.

It feels so good, I don't know how to handle it.

"Just wait until it's my tongue playing with this cute little clit" He pushes down harder and it takes all my strength to keep from falling over.

"Bet I could make you come without even taking these off"

I don't like the noises my body is making but I can't help it, I don't know how else to respond to how he's making me feel.

"Noisy little thing" He chuckles and pulls his hand away, pushing my foot off the bed and letting me plant it on the ground.

"Hm, can't get over these pretty legs" He traces his finger tips up and down the back of my thighs.

He brings his hands to my hips and hooks his fingers into my underwear.

He glances to my eyes and then begins to pull them down until they fall to my ankles.

I'm completely exposed to him now. I get nervous and close my legs tightly, trying to hide myself from him.

He stands up off the bed, suddenly much more intimidating.

"So, shy" He brings his hand to my cheek and strokes it for a moment.

"Be a good girl for me-" He taps my nose.

"Lay on the bed" He steps to the side and crosses his arms, watching me.

I listen to him and get onto the bed, laying my head on the pillows. He's still fully clothed, it feels unfair.

He stares at me for a moment before following my path and climbing onto the bed.

"Spread your legs, baby"

At the moment, they are closed tightly.

I look up at the ceiling, away from his intense eyes.

Slowly, I open them. I take a deep breath and shiver when I feel his hands on my legs.

"Such a delightful sight, angel"

I get the courage to look down at him, he's on his knees between my calfs. His hands delicately tracing my skin.

"I bet this sweet looking pussy is begging to played with" His touch is so, gentle. It's making me want more.

I can't even begin to imagine what his tongue would feel like between my legs.

I feel dirty just thinking about it.

I watch him lay down, lifting my thighs onto his shoulders.

I feel so vulnerable. I'm so nervous but I want him to touch me. My body is begging for it.

His eyes are locked on mine, his lips and teeth connecting to my thigh and making my toes curl. I don't know what to do with myself.

I shyly bring my hands down to his hair, the feeling of it soothing my nerves. I like the way his hair feels in my hands.

Without thinking, I pull on it, attempting to pull him closer between my legs.

Desperation is what I'm feeling.

He notices it right away. His eyes instantly looking up at me again.

"Is it starting to hurt, baby? Aching so bad, dripping down your thighs" I shuffle my legs, ignoring him.

I don't want him to be right. But he is, I need it.

"If you want something from me, angel-" He sinks his teeth into my flesh for a moment and then smiles.

"You've got to ask for it" He says, his face turning serious. I kick my legs in frustration, I don't want to ask him. I barely understand what's happening to me. I can't believe a demon is making me feel like this.

But in my subconscious, I'm questioning it.

Why aren't we allowed to enjoy ourselves?

Why isn't this something all creatures are allowed to experience?

He laughs at me kicking my legs, roughly gripping my thighs and stopping me from moving.

"Use your words" He kisses my thigh again, his lips going higher.

It feels like I'm on fire and the only thing that's going to cool me down is his tongue.

I don't know what to say to make him give me what I want.

"Please" I whisper, running my fingers through his hair. He smiles a bit.

"Please, what?" I get more frustrated, yanking on his hair but all it did was make him smile more. I know he's enjoying it, seeing how frustrated he can get me.

I don't want to say it out loud. I don't want to admit how badly my body is begging to be felt.

"I-I don't know what to say" I whine, trying to shuffle my legs again but he's got a tight hold on me.

"Beg me to touch you, angel, and maybe I will" He sucks lightly on my thigh.

"Or I could leave some pretty marks on your thighs" He bites down harder.

More unfamiliar sounds leave my throat, his teeth in my flesh stinging just slightly but I like it. I hate it. I hate all of the thoughts running through my head. All of them about him. His dirty words on what he wants to do with me. I don't understand it, but I want to.

"Harry, please-" I take a deep, shaky breath.

"I need you to touch me" I plead with him, hating myself for giving him the satisfaction of exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Such a good girl" He whispers, kissing even higher up my inner thigh. I watch him closely, noticing his hand letting go of my thigh and coming inbetween my legs as well.

"Is this what you want? Hm?" My whole body shudders when his fingers run along me. It's already an overwhelming sensation.

"You're so wet, baby. Smell like heaven" He breathes against my flesh and I try to move my hips closer to him. He chuckles and moves his other hand that had been holding thigh, up to my stomach and locking his arm around me tightly. Preventing me from moving.

Very much unvoluntarily, I squeal when I feel his tongue and he laughs, the sound vibrating against me.

It feels so good.

His tongue moves slowly and I try hard to kick my legs because I don't know what else to do. But his grip tightens.

"Harry" I go to pulling his hair instead, but it doesn't phase him. Every little movement of his tongue makes me moan. I can't control it. I hate it.

It truly is pleasure I've never dreamed about before.

He focuses in on the most sensitive part, my vision going blurry. I cry out, yanking on his hair with all my strength and he doesn't flinch. He continues to suck on my flesh until I'm a mess. I can't even think straight.

It's almost a relief when he pulls away for moment, but something in me wants to push him back.

"Tastes like honey, angel. Can't get enough"

This time it feels like his mouth completely engulfs me and I cry out even louder.

The pleasure, is incredible.

I've never felt this before in the millennia I've been alive.

My stomach is tightening to a point that I can't handle. It's the most intense thing I've ever felt.

I try to breath but every flick of his tongue takes my breath away.

"H-Harry" I try to pull him away, an unfamiliar knot in my stomach and all I want is relief. I can hardly breathe.

"P-Please"  I whimper, feeling like I'm going to burst. He's got such a tight hold on me, I can't move. All I can do it pull on his hair and make noise.

Which he seems to love.

His mouth and tongue make me feel like I'm floating, I can't describe it.

I don't understand it, how is he doing this?

Why does it feel so good?

"W-What is happen-" My body trembles and my thighs are shaking.

I'm struggling so much but he just holds me in place and continues to torture me with his tongue.

I close my eyes tightly, my back arching off the bed as my entire body tenses, lightly shaking as he doesn't stop his rhythmic movements.

It's so intense. The unexplainable feeling rips through me and his tongue doesn't stop. Not until my body relaxes a bit, and I'm panting. I try to catch my breath but my mind is so scattered, I can't get myself to breathe regularly.

"So fucking sweet, my little angel. Could eat this delicious cunt for days" I open my eyes, watching as he takes my thighs off his shoulders and gets onto his knees.

"Soaked the sheets, darling" He chuckles and places either hand on the top of my thighs.

I'm still trying to catch my breath, at a loss for words from the experience I just had. He rubs my thighs gently and looks down at me.

"That's what happens when you feel good, baby" He's still rubbing my thighs, helping me to calm down and relax my breathing. I attempt to close my legs a little bit, embarrassed at the mess I created on the bed.

He pins them down, pushing them further apart.

"Don't close your legs, I'm not finished" He warned, a hard grip on my thighs.

He holds down one and then brings his other hand between my legs.

I flinch when his fingers trace along my inner thigh, my body is still incredibly sensitive.

"Made you come so much, baby. Taste so good" He brushes over my nerves for just a second, making my body jolt. He smiles and brings his hand to his mouth, licking his fingers.

"I bet you're so fucking tight" His hand comes between my legs again but before he can touch me I reach down with both my hands and grab his.

He laughs at me and grabs both my wrists, he leans over me and then pins them to the bed.

"What?" He leans his face closer to me.

"Is your pussy too sensitive for me to play with?" He smirks and lifts my hands above my head, pinning them both down with just one of his.

"You think it's intense now, honey?" He uses his knee to spread my legs further apart then they already are.

"Can't wait until you feel me filling you up" He holds my hands tightly and slowly traces his fingers down my body.

His hand sneaks between my legs again and I whimper.

I groan when he pinches me lightly, a jolt of pleasure shooting into my stomach. I'm so sensitive, I hate it.

"You've got such a sensitive little clit, baby. Makes me wanna suck it until you squirt" His fingers lowers slightly and he makes little circles. I struggle in his hold, moaning more.

"Harry-" I gasp when his finger sinks into me.

"So soft" He hums. I look up at him, struggling again in his grasp. It feels really good, his finger slowly sinking into me. It's a different sensation and it amazes me. How can he make me feel like this in so many different ways?

He pulls his finger back, almost all the way before roughly pushing his finger back into me.

I groan, the pleasure coming from even deeper than when he was using his tongue.

"Does it feel good, baby?" He leans down and bites my lip.

I choke on my words when I feel him pushing a second finger into me, my toes curl in response to the pressure. My breath taken away.

"I wonder how I'm going to fit my cock in this tight little cunt, angel" I don't know what to say. His dirty words, I hated them. I hate inappropriate language of any kind but for some reason, I don't want him to stop. I like the sound of his voice.

"As much as I'd love to make you come on my fingers-" He pushes his fingers in and out of me a few more times before pulling them away.

"Wait-" I quickly bite my lip, not meaning to say anything out loud. But I liked the feeling, I didn't want him to pull away.

He smirks and brings his fingers to his lips, sucking on them.

"Don't worry, angel. Not even close to being done with you" He gets off of me and then off the bed.

I sit up and watch as he unbuttons the single button holding his suit jacket. I get up as well and crawl to the edge where he is. I get on my knees and watch him pull it off and set it on the ground. I reach out and grab his hands before he can start unbuttoning the long sleeve shirt he had on.

I pull him right up against the bed, with me on my knees we are about the same height.

Part of me just wanted to admire him. His features were perfect.

His eyes were my favorite. But only the green. I didn't like it when they'd go black.

I bring my hands to the buttons and slowly begin to undo them. His eyes are watching me closely.

I can't help but smile when I get a peak of his skin. I can already see streaks of ink.

I've seen quite a few people on Earth with beautiful designs on their skin.

I undo the last button and pull the rest of the shirt from his pants.

I pull the shirt off of him and let it fall to the floor.

Without asking, or really thinking, my hand comes to the design on his stomach. I trace it and smile even more. It resembled a butterfly and I wonder what it means to him.

Is it ties to the soul he may have had at some point?

I wish I could ask him, I could look, by holding his hand but he'd know it. He'd never let me.

I admire him for a few more moments, his body is breathtaking.

"I like these" I say softly, poking his stomach.

"Thank you, angel" It's the only genuine thing I've heard him say since we met.

The tone of his voice makes my stomach flutter.

I look down at my hands, trying to ignore his eyes when my hands reach his pants.

I bite my lip and take a deep breath.

I'm so nervous at my lack of experience. I can't imagine the amount of times he's done this.

I undo the button and bite my lip harder, unzipping them and pulling them until they also fell to the floor. He steps out of them, still allowing me to take my time. Which I'm grateful for.

I have no idea what I'm doing.

My fingers trace along the edge of the final peice of clothing on him. I also trace my fingers over the designs he has on his hips.

I think any form of art is beautiful. Some angels might disagree, but I do truly love art. And the ink humans put onto their skin, is an art form for them. I think that's amazing.

"Curious little thing" I glance up at him, my face heating up. I can't help it, I've never been this close to anyone.

"Sorry" I whisper, looking down at my hands again. I take a deep breath, copying what he had done to me earlier. I hook my fingers into his underwear and begin to pull them down. I pull them down as far as I can reach in my position. He steps out of them and I quickly look up at his face. He smirks, noticing I avoid looking between his legs.

He brings his hand up my back and slides his hand into my hair.

"Give me your hand" He said, not giving me much time to respond. Instead, he reached out with his free hand and grabbed mine.

My face goes even more red when he wraps my hand around him. It's hard. I can't bring myself to look, I'm so nervous.

"Look what you do to me, angel" He grips my hair and makes me look down. His hand is still on mine, guiding it along his length. I can feel it get even harder as I touch him.

He keeps his hand on mine for just a few more seconds, before pulling it away.

"Just like that, pretty girl" I bite my lip and continue to move my hand in the motion he showed me.

"Do you know why it's hard like that, angel?" I shake my head, unable to move my eyes now. I feel like I'm in a trance.

"All because of you" He pulls my head back so I'll look at him.

"You like stroking my cock, baby?" He smirks.

"Hm, I bet this little angel would be a perfect little cum slut. So obedient" I squeeze my hand around the tip, just a little bit of liquid oozing from it.

"How about, you do me a favour, sweetheart-" He backed up a little, roughly pulling me with him and off the bed. I fall onto the ground in front of him on my knees.

"Hm, the thought of fucking your throat just makes me even harder, angel" I look up at him, the look in his eye is wicked.

"But I want to fuck you, more than I want to do anything else. So, be a good girl for me and use this sweet looking mouth to coat my cock" He smiles down at me.

"I-I don't know what to do" I say shyly, bringing my hand to wrap around him again.

So many emotions are running through me.

"Spit on it" He instructs, pulling my face closer. I grip my hand tighter around him and push myself up higher on my knees. I glance up at him, his eyes not blinking for even a moment.

I look back down, trying to block out the fear. I don't want to mess it up. I want him to feel like I did. But I don't even know if I have the capability to do it.

I collect saliva into my mouth and then listen to his instruction, spitting on him.

"Now-" Before he tells me what to do, I use my hand to spread as much of it as I can down his length.

I've seen a world of art, with naked figures from the past. I never recognized it in a sexual way, but Harry's size is much larger than a lot of the art I've seen.

It makes my stomach flutter, wondering how this is possibly going to fit inside of me.

"You're such a good girl, angel" His tone is soft and it makes my body heat up. I like his praises. He moves his hand from my hair and brings it to my cheek, brushing it gently with his finger tips.

"Open your mouth for me" He says, his fingers touching my lips.

I listen to him and open my mouth. He places his hand on top of mine and guides himself towards my lips.

I lean forward, taking in whatever I can. It's not much, almost right away I choke.

He chuckles a little bit and I meet his gaze.

"Taking a lot in me not to shove my cock as far down your throat as I can get it" The look in his eye darkens slightly.

He pushes me, but not too much, but I choke and pull myself off of him. Saliva already dripping from my mouth.

"Hm, that's enough for now. Just wanted to get a little taste" He reaches down and grabs me, lifting me to my feet.

He pushes me onto the bed, my legs hanging over the edge.

"So many fucking things I want to do to this pretty body, angel" He places his hands on my thighs and shoves them apart before sliding them underneath my thighs and lifting them from the bed.

I wiggle around, realizing I have no control over this position. My bottom half is completely lifted from the bed.

He pulls me closer to the edge and I watch as he holds me up with one hand and the other wraps around his phallus.

My stomach tightens when his tip brushes against me.

"Tell me, angel. I want to hear you say how bad you want me to bury my cock inside of you" He looks down at me, his face is serious.

"I want it, Harry" I whisper, trying to move my hips closer. His serious expression turns into a smirk.

"Ask me to fuck you, baby" He says, watching as I struggle to try and pull him closer.

"But-" He cuts me off and digs his nails harshly into my skin.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He asked, I look at him and nod shyly.

"Then say it" He snaps.

I've never used crude language, ever and my brain still can't understand why my body responds in pleasure to Harry's filthy words.

But I wanted him, something deep inside of me is craving to know what it's going to feel like.

"H-Harry, I-I want you to-" My face burns as I get flustered, trying to get the words out.

"I-I want you to fuck me" I'm almost in disbelief that I say it out loud. But Harry's devilish smirk grows wider.

"Such a good little angel" He hums quietly and then pushes against me.

I watch as he fixes his gaze directly into my eyes and slowly guides himself into me.

I can't describe it, how it feels. It's extremely intense.

But the way he pushes through my flesh is already making my vision go blurry.

I try to tighten my legs around him, so I can pull him closer. He stops me, roughly gripping both of my thighs.

Hes made sure he's in control.

"So soft, angel. Is this what heaven feels like?" I groan when he pulls almost out of me and then roughly drives into me while pulling me towards him at the same time.

I close my eyes, my hands holding the blanket underneath me tightly.

"Fuck" He breathes, quickly finding a pace that's making my eyes roll back. The pressure is unbelievably pleasureful. I don't know what to do with myself, I can't do anything. He has all of the power.

Every thrust of his hips gets harder and harder.

"Harry" I cry out his name, struggling in his hold. It feels so good.

Every moral I've held dear to me, is gone.

I'm finally able to catch my breath when he drops me back onto the bed, pulling out of me.

Every breath I take is shaky, my hands in fists as I try to calm myself.

"Sounds like someone enjoys getting fucked" I open my eyes and he's already starring at me.

"Hm, princess? Do like getting fucked?" I attempt to take a deep breath. I bite my lip and nod.

"Get up on the bed more" He instructs. I take another breath and then listen to him, pushing myself back onto the bed.

He followed me, grabbing me and without any effort, flips me onto my stomach.

"Now stick that pretty ass up for me, angel" Before I can respond, he grabs my hips and lifts me onto my knees. He pushes them apart, and his hands slide up my thighs until his fingers reached sensitive flesh.

My knees go weak when he rubs back and forth, I bury my face into the pillows on the bed. I grab ahold of one and hold onto it tightly.

"Harry!" I cry out his name when he pushes into me again without any warning.

"Yeah, angel? Does it feel good?" I whimper in response to him.

"Hm? I want an answer" He holds my hips tightly, thrusting into me at an overwhelming pace. I can barely breathe, let alone speak. He seemed to be getting even further inside me with this position.

I cry out when he slaps my butt, obviously getting impatient with my lack of words.

"I-It feels really good" I try to say it loud enough so he can hear me but I can't speak. My senses are completely over taken by pleasure.

"That's all I want to hear, angel. Those sweet little cries of pleasure" He slaps me again, but a bit lighter this time. It stings, but every part of it just adds to the knot forming in my stomach.

I'm a mess, if Harry wasn't holding my hips, I wouldn't be able to keep myself up.

I never understood humans who were driven by sex. Like it's a need. I never could have imagined that it would feel like this.

I feel Harry's fingers coming into my hair. He wraps it around his hand and then harshly yanks me up. I groan, feeling incredibly weak.

"Never would have thought an angel would be such a slut for cock" He wrapped his arm around my stomach and pulled my head back against his shoulder.

His thrusting decreases dramatically, but he's so deep inside of me and every little movement he makes sends pleasure through to my toes.

If he gets any deeper I feel like I might burst like a balloon.

He gently bites down against my shoulder, sucking on my skin while his hand that had been wrapped around my stomach, starts to lower.

I whine, knowing exactly what he's about to do and with both hands I grab his arm. I'm so sensitive, if he touches me, I definitely will burst from everything I'm feeling.

"Harry" I beg, trying to pull his hand away but he doesn't budge.

"You can handle it, angel" He whispers in my ear, his fingers once again touching me. But with him buried in me, the pleasure is immense.

"Harry, I-I can't" I whimper more, my nails clawing at his arm to try and pull him away.

I already feel so weak, I don't know how much more my body can take.

He ignored my weak little crys and moved his fingers in quick circles.

The knot in my stomach is so much tighter than when he used his tongue on me.

He rocked me against him and with that bit of movement, I can feel my body tensing.

"Nuh, uh, baby. You aren't coming yet" He pushed me off of him, pulling his hand away and out of me. I fall onto the bed and before I can do anything, he grabs me and turns me over.

He pushes my legs apart and gets on top of me.

He places a hand next to my head to hold himself up. Shyly, I reach my hands out to his face. I touch his cheeks for a moment before sliding my hands to his shoulders. He's so broad. I get distracted by the birds on his chest, tracing them each individually. I can't help but smile, they are very nice.

I glance up at him and bite my lip.

"Sorry, I just like these a lot" I whisper. He lifts my leg up against his hip and then leans down close to me. It's something I realize that I really like doing. I like kissing him.

I lift my other leg up against him, my hands coming back to hair and pulling him closer to me, connecting our lips.

He pulled back after a moment and with his free hand, brought it down my chest.

I jump a little when a shock of pleasure runs through me, his fingers lightly pulling on my nipple. He lowers his hand down and I watch as he wraps his hand around himself. He strokes along his length and then rubs the tip against me.

"Can't wait to fill with my cum, angel" He drives into me hard, my back arching from the bed at the feeling. My nails digging into the back of his neck.

Out of the positions he's had me in, I liked this one the best. He's warm.

He isn't gentle, but I enjoyed our closeness.

"Such a pretty little angel, now my own little slut" He whispered, leaning close to me again and brushing my lips. He doesn't kiss me, instead he moves his lips down my jaw.

I pull on his hair, moaning. I look between our bodies, watching as he pulls out just to plunge back into me.

I gently pull his hair again, guiding his lips back up to mine. I wanted to taste them again. I hold onto his cheeks, both of our moans being muffled by our kiss.

It's much messier, our tongues swirling together and making the pleasure even stronger. I hold him against my lips, refusing to let him pull them away from me.

He let's me do it for just a little longer before roughly grabbing my arms and pinning them to the bed.

He bites my lip before moving to my neck again.

He begins to quicken his pace again, sending me down a spiral of pleasure I could never imagine. Every second of it is...bliss.

I don't have to think, I just take in every feeling of it and it's incredible.

"You feel that, angel? Those little walls of your clenching against my cock?" He groans against my neck, teeth sinking into my neck.

He sucks on my skin again, before moving his lips up to my ear.

"Softest cunt I've ever fucked" He whispers before pushing himself up onto his knees and grabbing my hips.

My mind goes numb when he drives into me harder than he has all night. I'm crying in pleasure, my hands grabbing at his hands again.

It's so extreme, pleasure consuming every fibre of my being.

"Harry" I moan, the familiar feeling of my body tensing up.

"Is this sweet little angel about to come all over my cock?" His thrusts become more sloppy, but my mind is somewhere else.

I've never felt like this before.

It's pure bliss and I can't comprehend it.

It rips through me like tidal waves and I cry out his name repetitively as it washes over me.

"Fuck, fuck, angel" He swears under his breath, pushing himself as deep into me as he could possibly get and holding my hips tight. He doesn't pull out this time, he stops his thrusts suddenly.

I feel the release, my body still tightening around him.

"Sweet little pussy is taking every last drop from me, angel" He takes a breath, looking down at me before finally pulling out.

_____

My mind is still reeling. Trying to comprehend everything that just happened.

I watch as Harry buttons up his shirt slowly.

What's going to happen now?

I pull on my dress, reaching behind me and pulling up the zipper.

It doesn't feel real and suddenly, I feel so unclean.

Why did I do this? How could I do this?

How could I betray everything I know?

It scares me even more because I enjoyed it.

I glance at Harry, watching as he pulled on his jacket.

He hasn't said anything. Just looking at me every once in a while as he got dressed.

I didn't know what to make of him and I hate myself for even thinking about the chance of this happening with him again.

"What's going to happen now?" I ask softly.

"What now?" Suddenly, he's mocking me.

I watch in fear as the green in his eyes quickly disappears into black.

"Oh, darling" He shakes his head, laughing at me.

"You really are, so naive" I back away from him, fear filling my stomach. What's happening?

"You thought you could trust me? A demon?" He steps towards me, an evil smile on his face.

"Did you truly think you were anything but a toy for me to play with?" He follows my footsteps, but I'm stopped by the wall.

"God, it was so easy manipulating you" He scoffed, standing right in front of me.

I try to will myself away but nothing happens and he chuckles even more.

His eyes seem even darker than before.

I'm so confused, I tear up, looking at him. But his expression is unphased.

He pulls the blade from his jacket and points it at me.

"I'm just doing my job, sweetheart" He reaches down and roughly grabs my left hand and turns it face up.

"No, please don't" I cry, tears falling down my cheeks.

I'm trying to will up any power I can, but it's blocked and I don't know how.

"So stupid, I never needed you to get the boy" He snaps.

He brings the blade to my palm and traces it. I fight him, as hard as I can. I know what he's doing.

Only angels know of this curse.

I've only heard whispers of it, whispers of some of the punishments angels face when they stray.

It's knowledge a demon shouldn't have.

I do everything I can, but his strength is no match.

I cry out in pain as he carves into my hand and then, everything goes dark.

#harry #solo harry #harry smut #harry one shot #harry imagine #harry dirty imagine #harry styes #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles edit #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #1d #fine line #one direction #fanfiction #1d smut #demon harry styles #harry styles kink #little freak #harry styles dirty fanfiction #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles one shot #one direction smut #watermelon sugar #harry styles dirty #1d one shot #one direction imagine #smut #harry styles smut one shot

[coffeewritesfiction]

Which Image - A Chzo Mythos fanfic

Title comes from the song Witch Image by the band Ghost. If there's interest I'll write more and explain to my followers what this game series is.

Apologies to the people who wanted to be tagged in this, Tumblr isn't recognizing your urls. I'll try to tag in a reblog. Also apologies to the British if my American ass screwed things up. I'll make edits as needed.

London, 2015

In between the crackling thunder, a young man screamed in agony, sweet as the music of a harpsichord.

Footsteps pounded like the rain through the stolen, repurposed corpse of a building. An office, once, now a shell like any other mortal body. Down the many stairs the footsteps carried, sneakers squeaking wet on dirty tile. Down the stairs and through the halls, she ran.

Why the persistence? Too late, far too late, to save her friend. But the young woman resisted the obvious. Dark of hair and pure of heart, he could not harm her yet. He watched the sweat drip down her warm brown skin, how she brushed the strands of hair from her face. Standing, kneeling, struggling, suffering.

He watched and he wondered. Yes, he did wonder.

It'd been a strange choice, to offer up an American for a sacrifice, but Chzo was not a picky god. This young woman could not have looked more different from her light-haired friend. But in her eyes, a desperate fire burned, and looking away proved a challenge.

That fire… She reminded him of someone. How distasteful.

Of course, of course, too late for her friend. She opened the door to strangers standing over the remains. Of course, of course, too late for her. The cult would spare her, when they caught her, he would ensure it…

They did not catch her.

They did not even notice her, too consumed with their own escape. The Ministry agents closed in, fortune smiling upon them once again. She fled, they fled, and it had all gone wrong.

He could've been furious.

He could've been.

Instead, he stood upon the old building, his shadow stretching long in the light flashing overhead. He stood, and he watched her race into the darkness, her parcel, their parcel, clutched to her frail body.

He watched, and yes, yes he wondered.

She reminded him of someone… Cabadath wasn't sure he liked that.

It'd been almost twelve hours before anyone realized the girl was gone. Far too late to save her life. The Order of Blessed Agonies worked fast. But so did Trilby.

The Order must've been desperate to prey on tourists. They had to have known who they were choosing. The accents on these kids weren't subtle. Five of them came overseas on spring holiday, bright eyed and oblivious. Three headed home tonight. The other two would follow in coffins.

“Trilby,” one of his supervisors said, “I know what you're thinking. Don't put yourself at risk to try and save this kid.”

“I'm already at risk,” he'd said. “What's a little more?”

“We need you alive - and so do they.”

And that was the thing, wasn't it? The Order wouldn't keep this girl, this Jillian Taylor Cortez, alive, but he couldn't say they'd do the same with him. Damned prophecies…

Her name was Jillian Taylor Cortez. She just turned 19. Mexican-American mother, British father. Got her middle name because the latter died before she was born, so said her friends.

She looked nothing like Simone Taylor. If she had, Trilby might've lost it again.

Twelve hours, they found the boy, or what was left of him. They'd followed the muddy footprints from the ground floor all the way to the altar. Trilby followed them back up, frowning. Pretended he didn't see the glances between the ones around him.

He had a hunch.

Just a hunch, but he'd been doing this for almost twenty years now. Just a hunch, he'd say later… but he'd been right before.

“Don't you dare!” Someone shouted at his back. “Damn it, Trilby! Get back here! It's not worth it!”

He ignored them, ignored the rain soaking his suit. Wasn't breaking the rules if nobody up top told you not to. Besides, he was just following a hunch. Just giving a quick check around the buildings. No harm in that.

No harm on her, when he caught her dead center in the light of his torch.

He stared at her and she stared right back, her eyes wide and hollow. The rain soaked her right through, plastering clothes to skin and hair to her cheeks. The bow in her hair, half undone. The fear in her eyes, too painful, too real.

Trilby raised a hand.

“Jill-”

She bolted.

“Wait! No!”

Trilby followed.

The kid knew how to run. Ran through the streets like the world was ending. Trilby kept up. He wasn't young anymore, he'd feel it for the next few days, but he kept up. So did the rain.

Only took a few wrong turns. She didn't know anything about the area - neither did he, to be fair. Was only a little bit of a surprise to find themselves in another alley, to come across the fence blocking their way. Was a very big surprise when the girl ran right for it.

“Jillian!” He shouted over the thunder. “Jill!”

Did she even hear him? She didn't stop. Lunged for the fence, one hand grasping the chain link metal. Trilby moved faster than her.

He grabbed her around the waist. She screamed. They both hit the ground, he let her go and she scrambled backwards. He shifted, sat up, looked her in the face again.

Terrified eyes, wide and wild. It wasn't just the rain soaking her cheeks, the spring weather shuddering her shoulders.

Trilby raised his hands.

“Jillian,” he said. “It's alright, Jill. I'm with the Ministry of Occultism. We're here to help you. I can't believe you're still alive…”

She breathed. She held the book in her arms tight. Book? He looked down at it. Heavy, large, leather bound. Some kind of writing on the cover.

Oh my God, he thought. Did she steal that from the Order?

Trilby looked up to her face again. Her eyes locked onto something over his shoulder.

Trilby jerked out of the way. The blade buried into the ground he'd stood moments before. Trilby moved, backed away as far as he could go, the blood draining from his face.

“Oh, hell,” Trilby said.

The featureless face of the Prince of Pain tilted towards him. Cabadath had not changed at all in the last twenty years. Bone chilling, even after all these years and all their meetings. Still ever the same, nine feet tall and dressed in black, the rain coursing down his long coat and leaving the fabric dry. The Prince straightened in slow motions, raising the four pronged scythe and resting it by his side.

Still the Prince stared at him, though he had no eyes to do so. He raised a hand and pointed to the girl.

Jill. She'd gotten out of the way just in time. Trilby couldn't risk looking away from the Prince for longer than an instant, Cabadath moved too fast, but she still breathed, standing against the fence. Her eyes, still wild, locked onto the terror between them.

Had Cabadath been chasing her too? The Prince had powers like no human ever could. Hallucinations were a favorite, Trilby knew that from experience.

The Prince waited.

Trilby took a breath.

“Jillian,” he said. “Give him the book.”

She did not move but her whole body shuddered with her breath.

“He's playing nice right now,” Trilby said, eyes locked on the Prince, “but he doesn't have to. You don't know what he's fully capable of, you've just seen part of it.”

Jillian did not move.

“There's nothing in that book that can help you,” Trilby said. “You don't want to get involved with this more than you have been. I don't know how you got it, but you need to give it back. Before he takes it from you.”

Her body shuddered. Jillian blinked, hard. The Prince did not move. He did not look away.

Her arms unlocked. She took another deep, shuddering breath. Holding the book in careful hands, she laid it upon the ground at her feet, and stepped away. And away. And away.

Trilby watched the Prince. He did not notice where the young woman moved to, until she stopped. Stopped between him and Cabadath, facing the Prince, her arms stretched out as if she could protect Trilby from the monster watching them.

Protect him from Cabadath. He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry at the thought.

The Prince tilted his head. His gaze shifted towards the girl. Trilby placed a hand on Jillian’s shoulder. Cabadath’s shoulders shook, as if in silent laughter. But of course, no sound came from the Tall Man. They were not worth the effort.

Turning away from the mortals, Cabadath stepped toward the book. He knelt, and with one long free hand, picked it up. Turning fully back towards the two humans, he bowed a mocking thanks. Trilby set his teeth, held Jill's shoulder as she flinched.

As the Prince straightened, he vanished. The rain poured down over them and the tension disappeared from Trilby's body. Cabadath truly was gone. For now.

Jillian sobbed.

Trilby's focus snapped to her again. Shit.

“Jill?”

She placed her hand over her mouth as the sobs shook her body.

“Cal,” she whispered the name of her friend. “Cal, I'm sorry.”

He couldn't think of anything to say. Trilby wrapped an arm around her and pulled out his phone with the other. How long had it been ringing?

“Yeah?” He said. “Yeah, I'm alright. Yeah, we're both okay. I found the girl, she's alive. It's… it's a long story. I'll explain everything back at headquarters.”

Trilby held the young woman against his body as he led her back into the light. He glanced uneasy at the roofs above them, expecting a tall shadow staring down, but only the rain waited overhead, the drops falling down between her tears.

#chzo mythos #writeblr #writeblr community #cabadath #chzo Mythos Trilby

[sgiandubh]

Sunday sounds: First Advent Sunday -Hope

Starting today and until Christmas' Eve, this page is observing the Four Sundays of Advent. Even if you are not Catholic like me, you are all more than welcome to join in this Celebration of Light.

Three purple and one pink (more on this, on the Third Week) wreath candles are lit, one by one, on each Advent Sunday. And each have a particular meaning, preparing us to welcome Him in our houses and in our hearts, as we would welcome a Guest. You don't have to go the whole nine yards and 'meditate' or whatnot. You just have to try and give at least an honest thought to what the message of each candle personally means to you. That would be really nice and you will get Brownie points for it. Pinky promise.

This week we light the Prophet Candle. If this makes you think about Hanukkah or the Shabbat candles, well - it's only fair and normal. All the things once told in prophecy by people like Isaiah were true, and this Sunday is all about renewed, enduring Hope:

 'For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.' (King James' Bible - Isaiah, 9:6).

I have chosen this particular interpretation of Haendel's Messiah (Jesus, always in a hurry and have to edit all the time!) for its irresistible energy. These Ghanaian people have no budget for a proper orchestra, so they had to be creative and use synthesizers and some percussions, instead. It does not matter, because nothing else matters when talent meets grace.

All the music I have chosen for this particular moment in time is choral. Because as the Frenchmen say, 'chanter, c'est prier deux fois' - 'singing is praying twice'.

#sunday sounds #Advent 2023 #Youtube #Baroque #Haendel

[physalian]

Timeskips (A Deceptively Tricky Trope)

Anyone remember when we all went to the theaters to see Endgame and the trailers actually fooled us into thinking all the action happened immediately after Infinity War? Then 15 minutes into the movie, the Thanos we grew to love/hate dies and the bomb drops: “Five…Years…Later”

It’s a shame that the movie didn’t properly explore the worldly consequences of losing half the population in favor of a Marvel victory lap through all its greatest hits. That our heroes could do absolutely nothing for five whole years, opening on a shot of a cold and dark cityscape — that was the best use and execution of a timeskip I’ve seen in recent memory, even if the rest of the movie didn’t follow through with it.

Timeskips are an effective way to age up characters or age past the end of an era of peace, or the healing after a tragedy (or the lifeless aftermath of one). Usually, your established heroes do their heroic thing, and anywhere from a couple weeks to a couple months to a couple years pass before the story picks back up again. Some may have died along the way, the political climate has changed, couples have had children, or babies have grown into their own characters, relationships have grown, begun, or fallen apart.

These damnable plot devices are a double-edged sword. On the one hand, the author gets to skip sometimes decades of meandering plot and development to tell almost an entirely new story in the same universe, sometimes not even with the same characters who are now too old, too dead, or retired.

However, timeskips can also cause some massive confusion, missed opportunities, and fandom wars over whether or not the jaded and grizzled and depressed heroes we see on screen are, in fact, a realistic evolution from the last time we saw them (looking at you, Star Wars).

Sometimes, they’re used in a single episode, thrusting a present character into the depressing dystopian future so they can prevent whatever causes said future before disaster strikes (Teen Titans "How Long Is Forever?"), and all returns to normal by the time the credits roll. Sometimes, the author really wanted the drama and angst of a pregnancy, then got stuck with a baby that needs constant attention from its parents who can no longer go do Plot Things until the baby can take care of themselves (The Originals).

Sometimes it’s the jump between two eras of a series, where our heroes have had a couple years of practice and now we can make the tone a little darker and the action a little more visceral. Or, it’s expected of a multi-book saga that regularly jumps a year ahead with each edition, leading up to the big prophecy (Percy Jackson, Harry Potter).

The Fundamentals of a Good Timeskip

As requested by Anonymous!

Telltale signs of a dubious skip:

Audience is expected to care more about an undeveloped newcomer than the pre-existing cast, because the current cast does without explanation

Audience is “told” to accept Catastrophic Event without being “shown” how and why it happened

Characters die, break-up, disappear, marry, change teams, or change entire personalities for ~drama~ and no other reason

The Book You Never Wrote was way more interesting than the future you brought us to

The new plot depends on Events Unwritten, but never shows or explains Events Unwritten

Timeskip only exists because the author is unable to make the leaps in logic themselves and hopes you won’t notice

The legacy of past heroes is trashed completely for More Story

Signs of a successful skip:

Characters we know and love are still themselves, just a little older and wiser

Characters that do change do so logically, within reason, and could have been extrapolated from the last publication

Radical changes and the new hellscape you threw your heroes into is given ample screen time to show “How tf we got here”

The new world doesn’t disregard or ignore the legacy and victory of past heroes

Absolutely nothing of import or unexpected happened in the interim, except time

Anyone who dies off-screen won the story by dying of old age, or some other respectful avenue (popular with aging mentors and old masters, usually when their actor also passes)

Whether your timeskip succeeds or fails depends entirely on, in my humble opinion, how much story you skip and sacrifice to make the jump, and how radical the changes are from the past to the future. And, to what degree the skip serves as a means to an end or the centerpiece of the new story.

Meaning that since you leave weeks, months, years, or decades unwritten, how interesting was the Book You Never Wrote, and how badly would audiences need to read it to understand the jump from A to B?

If I’m writing a ten-year skip and half my heroes have died, half have ended wonderful relationships, two kids have been born, a known hero has become a villain, and an entire city’s been destroyed… that is a *very* interesting story I wish I had the opportunity to read, because it sounds like every character I fell in love with is about to become unrecognizable and very frustrating to follow now that I don’t understand why they make the choices they do — *if* I’m never shown evidence to support the leaps in logic.

If I’m writing a ten-year skip and all that happens in the interim is a minor child character is now a tween with a pretty average life, or my super-powered heroes have had only mediocre rogues to battle, or a character who began in the mail room is now a middle manager at their boring job, then, yeah, we can skip all that jazz and get to the good stuff. This is usually the setup for your “next generation” skip for any genre.

Good timeskips also depend on how readily the characters accept and acknowledge the changes that have happened off-page, and how much the future story now depends on the information the audience never received. If your plot and your characters constantly reference and argue over the Book You Never Wrote, your audience won’t be pleased to not have read said book.

I’m going to use specific media here because the nature of a timeskip concerns entire plots and my usual vague examples don’t suffice. How you write and implement one is entirely up to you and each of these have their staunch defenders, I just don’t like them and I’m here to explain why. Hopefully if you’ve seen at least one of them, you can use them as a shining example of what (or what not) to do in your own work.

The fandoms in question:

The 100

Star Wars

Percy Jackson

Last Airbender/Legend of Korra

How to Train Your Dragon

The Little Mermaid

—

The 100

The timeskips in question are between seasons 2 and 3, and between seasons 4 and 5. The first timeskip is a couple months between seasons 2 and 3. After a huge conflict (and easily the best season of the show by a country mile), shifting alliances, enemy-of-my-enemy, the best couple-that-never-was, the season ends with protagonist Clark unable to let herself enjoy the spoils of war because of the crimes she committed to make it happen. She leaves behind all her friends to go be a hermit, including deuteragonist Bellamy, who is Not Happy about this decision.

The problem: In between seasons, Clark hasn’t changed much, but Bellamy sure has. He gets a girlfriend, develops an entire relationship, only for this girl to get fridged within the first 50 minutes or so of season 3. He takes her death super hard and, with Clark not there, spirals into a bit of a blind-faith fascist turning on all his friends and becoming nigh unrecognizable. Without seeing the growing relationship with the fodder girlfriend, without seeing how hard life has been for him without Clarke, all his choices, all his beliefs, all his pontificating sound completely foreign and out of character and he does not recover until it’s almost too late. As he’s the deuteragonist of the show, you can only take yelling at your TV for all his stupid and OOC decisions for so long, when it could have been done so much better.

The second damning timeskip is five whole years between seasons 4 and 5. Bellamy develops another unseen romance up in space, his sister becomes a bloodthirsty underground queen, and Clark devotes her entire life to raising a little girl she finds.

The problem: Clark cares a lot more about protecting the little girl than anything else, a choice audiences can’t empathize with because we’re still siding with the characters we’ve watched grow and suffer for four seasons, making Clarke an incredibly frustrating character to watch.

Five-year timeskips are fine. I think I’m in the minority in hating this decision by the writers. However, when your characters’ motivations change so radically without you being able to follow that development, making their new choices seem incredibly inconsistent with who they’re supposed to be, the disconnect is super strong. We’re being told at this point to care about these strangers over the existing cast without ever having been shown why.

Star Wars

Timeskip in question: Return of the Jedi to The Force Awakens. Enough time for Rey to look like a 20-something and, I believe, the exact same gap between the movies in the real world. The argument over Luke’s character has been beaten to death by now. We end Return of the Jedi with the promise of a galaxy in peace after decades of civil war between the Rebels and the Empire and the ultimate sacrifice from Anakin.

The problem: We open Force Awakens like the war never ended. There’s still stormtroopers, there’s still the Empire (though, now it’s called the First Order), there’s still Rebels rebelling. The happily ever after one would expect between Han and Leia is shattered because their kid went Dark Side. Their kid went Dark Side because… well, one side, the other side, and the unrevealed truth.

It’s less “Luke would never make these choices” and more “How do you expect audiences to believe Luke made these choices without seeing the pain and trauma inflicted on him to end up like this”. The casual fan only watches the episodic films. Luke ended one movie as a semi-optimistic war hero. He began the very next film jaded and traumatized enough to debate, and nearly go through with, murdering his nephew because of what he *might* do someday.

That anyone expected that to go over well was deluding themselves, but everyone knows these movies are a mess.

There’s also the disappointment in realizing all that Anakin lived and died for fell apart in less than 30 years. Who are these people calling themselves the First Order? Where did they get the funds, the resources, the platform to become as big a threat as they are? How did the Rebels fail so spectacularly at building a functioning government? How do they not have the funds, platform, and resources to buy better ships and equipment? How did no one realize they were hollowing out an entire planet to build another Death Star?

The Sequel Trilogy lost audiences when it refused to provide any explanations at all for *why* these changes happened. The movies don’t care about *how* Ben became Kylo, they just need you to accept that it happened. They don’t care *how* the First Order rose, just don’t look too closely or it all falls apart.

The skip between Empire Strikes Back to Return of the Jedi is also a bit sketchy, because Luke has done all his Jedi training off-screen and can just pull abilities out of nowhere, but the plot of Return of the Jedi doesn’t depend on having seen Luke grow.

Percy Jackson

I feel bad putting this here because it’s not nearly as egregious as the previous two, but because the original series was so good, these choices are that much more baffling. The timeskips in question: Sea of Monsters (2) to Titan’s Curse (3) and Last Olympian (5) to Lost Hero (6).

The books focus on a singular week or two per year, so Percy can age from 12 to 16 in time for the Great Prophecy by the end of the series. This series is filled with timeskips and unseen content, but the jump between books 2 and 3 is the most jarring. I just did a retrospective for both of them so if you happened to read that, I’m repeating myself a little.

The problem: At the end of SoM there is a huge shakeup in the realm of who will actually be the chosen one — a discarded chess piece has been revived and brought back onto the board. In the missing months, Percy has built an entire friendship and rapport with his would-be rival, and so many reunions were left unwritten between Thalia and the friends she left behind. It’s the depth of the missing content that really feels like they forgot to print a chapter in either book, particularly when she’s so important to the story.

Percy references quite a few times how good friends he and Thalia have become. Fantastic, on what page might I read that development, when the author spent quite a bit of time building up the presumption that you two would hate each other?

The other timeskip is the complete opposite. Last Olympian to Lost Hero is, I believe, only a month. Once again, we have a presumed happy ending and ultimate sacrifice completely torched for the sake of More Story. The original five-book saga culminates with the tragic death of a villain we’d watched for five whole books. His argument was the thesis of the first series.

The problem: As with Star Wars, everything that character died for is rendered mostly moot. There is evidence that his death meant something, in the positive changes seen in the lives of those that survived him, but he died preventing armageddon… and a month later Bigger Badder armageddon is on the rise.

I almost wish the timeskip here had been longer. A couple years, at the expense of aging up the heroes to their twenties. His legacy on the story is virtually nonexistent. When you look back at the horrible tragedy that was this kid’s life, all it amounted to, everything he fought for, everything he believed in and died for and lost friends for… bought only a month of peace.

The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra

Obviously, the timeskip in question is between these two series, about, what, sixty years? Last Airbender ends with, once again, the world at peace, ish, with lots of cleaning up to do, reparations to make, and governments to reshape. In the gap between series, almost everyone we knew has passed away, or aged out of being useful to the plot. Aang, of course, had to die so Korra could be born.

In the first season, because I’m reasonably confident all they planned was one season, the 60 year interim sees a lot of radical changes. Fan favorites die, the old ways are lost, the status quo is nothing like it used to be. So how do they get away with it?

Firstly, the show doesn’t begin with the main villains having already conquered Republic City and trashing everything the heroes fought for. The entire season is a crawl, then a plunge, toward disaster. They let you enjoy the fruits of the old characters’ labor, see the world that they built, before the new threat attempts to burn it down.

Secondly, because almost the entire original cast is dead or absent, there are no relationships sorely missing context, and there’s no *subversive* twists to what the audience could extrapolate from the ending of the old show.

LoK did make some radical changes to the world, but, crucially, it didn’t change the surviving core characters — we still have a known point of reference through which to view all the other changes. Katara is still Katara, she’s just older. Zuko is still Zuko, he’s just older. Katara didn’t become a persnickety, bitter bat and Zuko didn’t launch the Fire Nation Invasion II and return to his angsty ponytail-era.

It also helps that Korra is, like us, an outsider to this strange new world, a perfect vector through which the audience can ask questions and get answers on how, why, and when everything changed. LoK, unlike Star Wars, cared and thought about the *how* and the *why*.

If you’re going to write a story about the next generation without compromising the legacy of the old guard, Legend of Korra is a solid example of how to do it convincingly, respectfully, and entertainingly, even if it did drop the ball on some characters *cough*Sokka and Suki*cough*

How to Train your Dragon

But an even better example? How to Train Your Dragon to How to Train your Dragon 2. It’s been five years, a massive risk for your children’s animated fantasy series, but it’s also been almost five years of real-world time. Those who were Hiccup’s age when the first movie premiered are still Hiccup’s age when they head back to theaters. Not to mention the optional Netflix shows to help fill in the gaps.

Once again, there’s no *subversive* choices made with the relationships. Hiccup is still with Astrid and they’ve grown out of their awkward teenage phase. Their personalities haven’t radically changed either, only matured, the main group of heroes have had time to foster deeper bonds.

There’s no surprise children, no important characters who got killed off screen, and the changes to their homeland seem reasonable and logical given the time frame. A place that once feared dragons is now dedicated entirely to their preservation and conservation.

This is a timeskip that took advantage of every benefit of skipping time. The audience can very easily fill in the missing years with their imagination, because the jump from A to B makes perfect sense.

Frozen and Frozen II relied on the same mechanic of the audience growing with the characters with that one musical number. I’m not a fan of the execution of either of these movies, see this post about Frozen’s convolutions, but the execution of the skip itself is well done. All that’s happened in the interim is Elsa getting a little more comfortable being a person, and time has passed.

The Little Mermaid

The gap between Little Mermaid and Little Mermaid 2: Return to the Sea double-skips. First, it skips ahead to Ariel and Eric having an infant Melody, then about twelve years later to Melody being a tween and the new protagonist of the story.

Why it works: Melody is remarkably like her mother and rides the line between endearing and annoying very well and the plot depends on the skip happening at all – twelve years removed from the ocean and Melody has no idea her mother was a mermaid. Ariel and Eric (and Flounder) have grown to become wizened and worrisome parents and absolutely nothing remarkable happened unseen between the credits of the first movie and the second skip in the second movie. They get twelve years of peace, respecting the first movie’s legacy, and it’s through the actions of characters we see on screen that start jeopardizing everything.

—

Another feature I didn’t touch on earlier is that, by virtue of being a musical, the opening song to the Little Mermaid sequel efficiently catches audiences up on all the necessary exposition, all the old familiar faces, and where everyone is now in about 4 minutes. Frozen II does the same.

The Percy Jackson books also give a “previously on Percy Jackson” exposition speedrun at the start of books 2-5 and notes any important details that occurred in the missing months (save the glaring omissions detailed above).

If your time skip is just a plot device to get from A to Y, a well-handled exposition speedrun to catch everyone up won’t offend anyone, so long as you do it tastefully. If your skip is the centerpiece of the plot and the “how did we get here” is the big mystery, jarring your audience with the unexpected future on the opening pages is the point.

Do your best to avoid awkwardly having your characters state “X years have passed,” in dialogue because it’s always obvious and you can do better. Have somebody reference their upcoming birthday so audiences can do the math, or an anniversary. “X years have passed” cracks the immersion, as your characters don’t know or care that a time skip has occurred.

Or, if you’ve written a narrating style that talks directly to the audience, the narrator can just say “X months ago we did Y in the last book, reader, you remember how fun that was?” 

—

TL;DR, terrible timeskips happen, in my opinion, when the writers are disinterested with the interim and want to get to the good stuff without providing a logical jump to get there. Or, they happen when the time the story skips to jeopardizes where it came from without explanation. Whether that’s undermining the legacy of the original hero, ruining relationships and killing fan favorites for *subversion points* and *drama*, or creating a world so far removed from what audiences expected that they’re left confused watching their heroes make baffling decisions based on development they’re promised did happen, but is never shown. It’s one thing if you take your wide-eyed hero and toss him into a bleak future where everyone’s shocked by his pessimistic outlook, it’s completely different tossing your hero into a bleak future and none of his friends seem to care.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #exposition

[the-owl-tree]

Sometimes, I think about how if I rewrote Leopardstar's super edition, I'd change the title to something that y'know. Actually fits her like Leopardstar's Ambition and make one of the plot points there was /never/ a prophecy about how special she was, it was just something Mudfur told her as a kid to make her feel better but the thought process for a rewrite never goes too far because I'd have to pick the book up again for multiple rereadings and note taking and no.

My desire for a better written character look/backstory is not strong enough to trudge through one of the worst super editions I have ever read more than once

I'm so glad we had the same idea because I was thinking about how much better it would be if that story about Brightsky was just made up! I don't think this is an SE that needed to exist, TPB already did Leopardstar just fine, so if you had to make something for her I think a novella would have been better. Leaves them less room for this shoved in romance and baby plot too.

The book is such a snooze fest. When it's not retreading old grounds, the concepts it comes up with are boring and uninspired, and they've chosen the most lacklustre characterization of Leopardstar to at least add some flavor. When it is retreading old grounds, it's actively making the original story worse! How is the supplementary material failing this badly!!

#deer reads leopardstar's honor #i took a break after reading leopard and frog make goo goo eyes at each other #frog i hope you die violently

[warriorcatsofficialfacts]

I read some Warrior cats books when I was significantly younger, but stopped reading a while ago. I remember the books being seperated into their own little mini-series (idk its been ages and I read them in German dont @ me) about specific characters that were connected in a continual narrative. Which one of these is a good point to start reading again/get into it? I've been getting more curious about Warrior Cats lately, and someone who named their blog warriorcatsofficialfacts seems like the right person to ask this. Or maybe I should just read them from the beginning and am being a huge dingus idk.

alright so. fair warning. these books aren't Great

but with that in mind.

the "mini series" you are thinking of are called arcs, they're all 6 books long

every arc involves characters from other arcs, aside from two, but they are mostly self contained.

the only true exceptions, to my knowledge, is that you must read the power of three (po3) before omen of the stars (oots) and you must read the broken code (tbc) before a starless clan (asc) if you want to understand what's happening

the new prophecy (tnp), power of three (po3), a vision of shadows (avos), and the broken code (tbc) all contain context and characters from the series that comes before them, but are their own self contained stories. i've been told tbc is the best arc in the series

the only two arcs that are entirely self contained are the prophecies begin (tpb), and dawn of the clans (dotc). the prophecies begin is the first arc ever, and dawn of the clans is a prequel series

dawn of the clans can be read at any point

there are also "super editions" which are basically really long books that contain content outside of the main books.

to my knowledge, the ideal reading path for warrior cats is

the prophecies begin -> firestars quest (a super edition) -> the new prophecy -> power of three -> omen of the stars -> dovewings silence (this is a novella, basically it's just a really short book sold with three others) -> the first half of a vision of shadows -> tigerhearts shadow (super edition) -> the second half of a vision of shadows -> squirrelflight's hope (super edition) if you feel like it -> the broken code -> a starless clan

dawn of the clans is entirely self contained so read it whenever but it's pretty good

[galebrainrot2024]

GalexTav Enemies to Lovers Part 21

A short one because my brain is a little toasted :( I have guests coming this weekend and will be traveling again for work next week so I will be cranking out as much as I can in the mean time or weird inbetween! I appreciate you all <3

I’m also going to stick with Gale’s POV - this story isn’t about Tav (it is, but you know what I mean lol) thanks @laserlope for helping in the brain room 🤝

EDITED TO GALE’s Perspective | Read on Ao3 | Master List

“Ah,” Gale said, leaning over Tav’s shoulder to point towards what appeared to be an alter. 

They were exploring the cellar of Last Light after fighting off a particularly difficult gaggle of meanlocks. During their explorations they found a journal, and decided to have a gander at finding the resistance at Last Light. 

“A hidden shrine…” he murmured, “Dedicated to the Moon Maiden herself. Even amidst the darkness, Selunites are stubborn enough to cling on.” It was a sentiment he understood. Despite everything that Mystra forced him to endure, he still cherished magic because it was what he adored and had known so long as he’d had memory.

“Pretty beautiful, isn’t it?” Karlach mused, brushing her fingers over the lacy cloth of the alter and cold, forgotten statues. Gale loved watching her experience the world around her - it helped him maintain perspective, to see the world through fresh eyes. To remember what wonder there was in simplicity.

To grapple with life’s end is no easy feat. There are many who avoid the task entirely, choosing instead to delay the inevitable. Gale felt the crushing weight of finite time and couldn’t bear to ignore his deepest desires. It had been so long since he felt these delicious emotions. What he felt for Mystra.. it was nothing like this.

“If you have a fondness for paperweights,” Shadowheart crossed her arms and inspected the arms of her armor, disinterest evident. Gale internally scoffed, mumbling about how deeply entrenched she was in Shar’s vile, false prophecy.

Karlach snorted and gave Shadowheart a salute. “You’re a funny frog, you know that?” 

“Excuse me what?” Shadowheart bristled and glared at Karlach, though a curl tugged at her lip. “If anyone here is a frog, it most certainly isn’t me. If anyone, it would be Lae’zel.” 

“Why, because she’s green?” Karlach poked, egging her on. 

As the two volleyed back and forth, Tav turned to Gale. She was shifting awkwardly, something he flagged to secure and unwrap later. “Sometimes I can’t tell whether or not those two like each other.” 

“Oh, I’m sure most of our companions could say the same about us.” Gale grinned and flashed his teeth, the corners of his eyes scrunching. His cells surged from their proximity. 

“Well,” Tav chewed on her bottom lip and pressed a finger to his chest. “Perhaps they wouldn’t have the wrong idea if you were better at admitting defeat once in a while. I know it’s hard for you, to be around someone so much more charismatic, intelligent, funny…” 

“Scratch undoubtably stakes his claim to the limelight and acclaim that I have no chance competing with.” Gale rose a brow as if in challenge. He knew she was talking about herself, but he needed to see if she’d indulge him. To test the waters.

Gale had been testing the water for weeks now, to the point where Karlach told him that if he didn’t get on with it soon she’d jump Tav’s bones before he got the chance.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said, half joking and mostly serious.

“I can,” Karlach shot him a look, pointing a finger cockily, “and I will.”

Although Gale thought she was kidding there was still a part of him that chewed on her seriousness.

She returned his look, a wildness spreading through him as he continued to neg her and at how wonderfully she responded. “Are you comparing me to our camp dog?” 

“Ah!” Gale’s hand flung to his forehead and he tapped his fingers against it before resting on his hip and then twisting to point at her. “You know what, you’re right, I should have known you were talking about yourself. An honest mistake. Scratch is quite popular amongst our merry crew of miscreants and scoundrels, you’ll have to forgive me. Had I known you were talking about yourself,” Gale’s fingers wrapped around her wrist to lower her finger from his chest. Tav’s breath caught and that little sound, an otherwise innocent, unremarkable noise gave Gale’s body everything it needed to know. “I would have said that is woefully untrue and I wonder if that tadpole has eaten through more than a fair share of that beautiful mind of yours.” He whispered haughtily. Tav exhaled sharply and rolled her eyes which made his cheeky grin somehow more smug. He loved watching her get more and more flustered by him, though if he felt her feelings were hurt he’d learned well enough to stop. Lately, though, she seemed to relish in it.

“This place is hard to bear. I hope we’re able to continue on our way soon..” Shadowheart interrupted their banter and Gale looked to Tav who seemed delighted by their delay, unbothered by the impatience of their most gothic comrade. 

“I know what you mean. Everything is so… dark, and musty.” Karlach’s nose wrinkled and she nodded towards the exit, shifting from foot to foot.  

“Oh, well I meant more the idols to a false goddess,” she gestured and then took off her glove, inspecting her hand. “but yes, the mildew and must leaves something to be desired.” 

“Hopefully I’m not contributing to the smell too much,” Karlach gave herself a quick sniff and rose her arm. “What do you think?” 

Shadowheart laughed and shook her head, “Hush you, stop fishing for compliments. I’m sure Dammon showers you with plenty already.” 

Karlach stuck out her tongue and grinned. “You know it, baby.” 

Gale admired how, despite learning of her almost guaranteed fate, Karlach was a formidable optimist. He was trying to mirror her attitude, though despondency chewed at his robes. “Alright, alright,” Tav said, gesturing. “lead the way.” 

“I love a nice secret hideaway, don’t you?” Shadowheart mused, glancing around the damp enclave. “Even if it’s dedicated to,” she shuddered as if eating bad fish, “Selune.” 

“I mean… I guess.” Tav and Karlach shrugged in unison. 

“You can just fill it with supplies, seal up the hidden entrance, and tuck yourself away from the world…” Shadowheart said this as if she were asking a djinn to grant her wish. 

“Whatever you say, squirrelheart.” Gale chuckled at his own joke and the two groaned at his joke and Tav surprised him with an earnest giggle. He grunted as he hoisted his pack. “Where are we headed, m’lady?” 

Tav blushed. Another clue. Gale knew when he spoke to her in that voice, although it was playful there was an undercurrent of words unspoken. He knew it was beginning to affect her concentration because she let more than a few errant spells slip anytime they locked eyes in combat. He’d give an extra flourish, put on a bit of a show, and then she’d get a little smile and forget to cast her ward. Gale felt guilty, of course, but it was a little endearing.

Still - What if she wasn’t receptive? What if it was all in his head relationships? He didn’t remember overthinking past relationships quite so much. Perhaps he did. Well, he nearly immediately admitted the fib to himself.

He also worried that if he acted impatiently, Tav would slip through his fingers like quicksand. There was a nagging in her gut, that he would somehow mess up.

Tav - apart from his mother, and Tara - was the person who knew him best - which wasn’t saying much. She had seen so much of him, though, had been invited into more intimate moments while he held everyone else at an arms length. It was easier than seeing them hold him at an arms length. He tried to find solace in the stars instead of substance on solid ground. Terrified of letting people past the well-crafted fortress to his heart. 

For the past few weeks as he tried, and failed, to teach her simple recipes he felt his resolve grow weaker and weaker. He thawed her, little by little the layers of herself peeling back to welcome him in. Jokes that once would make her gag in annoyance now evoked bubbles of laughter. They rarely spoke at first. Only a few snide comments here and there. 

As the days progressed, however, Gale started to ask her more questions, which he sensed annoyed her to an extent. Once that emotion passed due to his persistent verbosity and monologues about his own answers would she open up and reveal tidbits of herself - what foods she liked to eat, the flowers she noticed, how she liked to spend her time - the latter earning him a withering look, implying him to back away from the question, to which he smirked at and held up his hands.

“Hello?” Gale waved a hand in front of her face, realizing he’d been waiting for her response for quite some time. He noticed she laughed unintentionally and licked her lips before she pressed them together. It made his core simmer. 

“Sorry?” She said, tilting her head and scrunching her face a little. 

“Good! We were worried we lost you there - you just,” Gale pursed his lips and his eyes narrowed a little with excitement. He leaned forward and Tav’s lips parted as she inhaled. He tried to steady his wicked thoughts. He noted the soft red brushed across her cheeks, how her iris’s were swallowed whole. His voice slowed, his tone smooth and mellow, “Blushed a smidge, ah… just as you are now….and then froze, faster than you could conjure an ice storm.” 

The silence lingered, the hairs on his arms stood up and he felt magnified. And then she spoke. “No, regrettably you’re stuck with me for now. Don’t get too excited.” 

He did. She returned the retort exactly as he wanted. “Oh, if this adventure has taught me anything it’s that I’ve grown rather fond of you. I would be rather miffed for our paths to part so soon… there’s so much more to do.” 

Karlach and Shadowheart’s whoops of laughter drew a scowl from her and started walking. 

“Don’t be shy!” Karlach yelled to her and Gale laughed.

 Fine. He thought to himself. Tonight. Tonight.

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale #bg3 brainrot #gale x tav #gale fics #bg3 fanficiton #bg3 gale fanfiction #bg3 gale fanfic #bg3 gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale romance #bg3 enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers gale x tav #gale fic #gale fanfic

[sorakazeno]

Chaos Theory Act 66 Teaser

Don't mess with these two! They will defend their Queen. Not the final edit and only a partial scene.

“When did Usagi tell you?” Rei asks suspiciously given Usagi hasn’t seen Yaten and Taiki as much.

“Seiya told us,” Taiki explains, “after a lot of prodding,” He discloses. “Something was off with him and he’s been rather distracted.”

“We weren’t going to leave him alone until we received an answer,” Yaten shifts his position slightly, he wanted to make it clear it wasn’t easy for Seiya to talk about it based on the look Minako had on her face. The last thing he needs is for her to be angry at him. He turns to Rei, “is she still having nightmares?”

“It’s improved… she’s starting to have nights without them,” Rei responds slowly, not expecting to have such a frank conversation with everyone. They all need to keep an eye on Usagi; they all need to protect her.

He cuts to the chase to discuss something far more important. “She said she was struggling with her powers.” Yaten looks at Rei directly.

Taiki’s posture shifts slightly as the conversation now has his full attention. His amethyst eyes study Rei and Minako carefully for their facial reactions to determine if there is more going on that they are not revealing to them.

Rei shakes her head no. “It was just that one day. She seems fine since then.” She isn’t sure if she wants to discuss the other issue Usagi has had with the other side of her, the part that is still Serenity.

“That’s good. Otherwise it could be dangerous,” Taiki needs them to understand that even though they are Usagi’s best friends and protectors, they need to be careful should something happen.

Rei shots him annoyed look. “Usagi is not dangerous.” She resents the suggestion.

“Don’t misunderstand; her powers as Sailor Cosmos could be. We’ve already seen it happen once.” Taiki challenges back.

“She hasn’t had any other issues since she awakened and fought Chaos,” Rei counters. Her eyes narrow at Taiki. She doesn’t understand where this is coming from. “Whatever happened to Usagi was in another timeline and she defeated Chaos then too.”

“There is always a first time,” Yaten is focused on Rei, missing the conflicting expression on Minako’s face.

Minako lets go of Yaten’s hand, bringing his attention back to her. “Usagi-chan is fine,” Minako responds coolly. “She has us to help.”

Yaten sighs, realizing this ended up being more confrontational than he anticipated. “Only when she tells you what is wrong.” He needs Minako to understand the position they are in. “Look at how long she hid the battle against Galaxia from you. If it wasn’t for the Prophecy she might not have ever told you.”         

Rei is on her feet. “She’s not the only one hiding things. I’m sure there is a lot we don’t about you either and Kinmoku.” Two can play this game.

See you next week for the full chapter on the 9th!

#sailor moon #bishoujo senshi sailor moon #bssm #sailor moon fanfiction #read on ao3 #fanfics #fanfiction.net #fan fiction #fanfiction #fanfic #chaos theory #chaos theory act 66

[localguy2]

I'm intrigued, I'm thinking about Wu and Morro and specifically Morro's (eventual) death at young age.

Like Wu probably blames himself because "easier to take the blame then pin it on someone else" But from a not biased standpoint, who was actually at fault in yall's opinions?

I want you all to consider in all viewpoints.

Yeah Wu told Morro about the green ninja prophecy and got the kid's hopes up, but he still saved Morro from death like we were shown in the flashbacks.

On the other end, yeah Morro made a lot of reckless decisions, but he's still really young, probably most evident in his denial of the fact that's he's not the green ninja.

So, what do yall think?

*edit: entirely not entirety I hate autocorrect

#ninjago #sensei wu #ninjago morro #Wanna see what people think of this whole thing overall