#a book full of demonic rituals in the library mind your own business

[cemeterything]

every gothic horror novel ever: YES this house is haunted YES people have died here NO we will not leave how DARE you even SUGGEST such a thing. this is our HOME. if we hear weird noises at night WE IGNORE THEM and if you’re foolish enough to get up and investigate them that is on YOU and we WILL hide your body.

#yes there is a secret passage leading down to a crypt containing #a book full of demonic rituals in the library mind your own business #jim.txt

[yodawgiherd]

Incantation of Incineration pt.2

>>>Read on AO3<<<

As we were blessed by a continuation of the GODLIKE fanart, I have decided to keep my word (for once). Check the picture out if you didn't yet, you are missing out O_O -----> https://twitter.com/NxngOna/status/1388902556693405706/photo/1 Anyway, this one is a bit longer and a tad more sinful than the first one, so beware. Unless you are here for the filth, that is.

How does one control a demon?

That was the question at the forefront of Mikasa’s mind in the last week. Despite her doubts, despite all of her previous bad luck she finally managed to summon one but he was not obeying her in the slightest. The opposite in fact, she very much remembered his whispered threatening question.

“Do you feel in power?”

She didn’t, not back then, and Mikasa wanted to be prepared for the next time. Of course that there would be a next time! She had so many questions to ask, so many wishes to fulfill so many…

Ok, easy, first the controlling part.

The last time he was here the Demon was doing whatever he wanted. While it was only eating her out, for some reason, it was done out of his will and the goth was simply swept in it. Never again. Next time they meet, she will be the one in control.

Yet it was hard to fulfill such a wish.

The internet gave her dozens of websites, hundreds of articles and discussions, but combing through them Mikasa didn’t see anything that caught her interest. Searching the amazing book she found in the library, she didn’t find any help there either. If there was a demon-binding ritual, she missed it.

In her anguish the goth asked the smartest person she knew – her friend Armin.

“Ar, any idea how I could control a demon?”

He looked at her, pushing his glasses up a bit.

“What are you talking about?”

“I summoned one last week but I couldn’t make him do what I wanted.”

“I see…”, he didn’t believe her, of course he didn’t, but Mikasa didn’t mind that.

He would still help her because Armin was a ray of sunshine and the best friend a girl could ask for.

“Any specifics about this demon?”, he asked, “Might help me in my search.”

“Well, he was human-looking, but with horns and black claws. He also had strange markings under his eyes and there were torn shackles at his wrists.”

“Horns, markings, shackles…”, dutiful as ever, Armin marked it all down, “Okay, I’ll do some searching and see what I can find.”

Leaning over Mikasa hugged him, whispering a quiet thank you into his ear.

As always, Armin delivered.

It was in the evening when Mikasa was laying on her bed, eyes rowing over the text in her new spellbook when her phone pinged.

A: Found an article that matches the demon you told me about. Apparently you can bind him to you by the shackles.

M: what do I have to do?

A: You need a key which you have, use the one you keep wearing.

Mikasa did like to wear an old key around her neck, an old trinket she didn’t even remember where it came from.

A: The spell is described in the article, use that and the “Demon” should obey :)

Yea. “Demon”. Whatever.

M: thx, I owe you one <3

Opening the link Mikasa’s eyes quickly scanned the spell, muttering under her breath. She lacked a few key ingredients, the biggest one being a live bird (?) for some reason. The required red scarf – that was another thing that Mikasa owned, making her wonder just what kind of spell this was.

Luckily her parents were gone on another business trip and wouldn’t be back for another two weeks, giving her ample time to gather these things. She bought a canary in a pet shop, a new set of black candles and few flowers. Back home she made those into a flower crown, just as the spell required.

In the middle of the room stood the birdcage, the canary watching Mikasa prance around. The key was put in front of the cage, the flower crown around it. Last the scarf – the goth circled it around the crown before putting the candles in required positions, lighting them up.

There, that should be everything.

Keeping the article open on her phone Mikasa began chanting, strange words once again leaving her lips. Whatever those meant she had no idea, but the effect was almost immediate. First of all the candles snuffed out. Then the flower crown caught fire, burning into nothing in a split second. After that the scarf moved, flying towards her and wrapping itself around her neck without anyone touching it. Last it was the key – it turned on the ground with a screech and suddenly the birdcage sprung open, the canary flapping its wings and disappearing out of the window in a split second.

Mikasa stared at it all with wide eyes.

Well, that was quite something. When everything calmed and nothing moved anymore, she concluded the ritual. Hiding the birdcage and scarf and putting the key back around her neck, the goth prepared the usual pentagram with candles, pulling out the knife. Ready to cut herself under the eye again, she said the spell, raising the blade to her skin.

Yet before it could make contact, the smoke explosion was back.

Knocking her backward same as before, the Demon was there in full glory, eyes immediately flying to Mikasa. Thin lips twisted into a grin that exposed the sharp teeth.

“You don’t have to cut yourself anymore, my beauty, I have your scent now. When you call me, I will answer.”

Collecting herself from the ground, Mikasa took a deep breath and straightened, staring the demon in the eye. With just a slightly trembling hand she gripped the key around her neck, thrusting it towards him. It glowed, his shackles did too, and the demon’s face changed from smug to surprised.

“What is this?” he wondered out loud, raising his hand to inspect the torn chains.

“A spell I used.”, Mikasa said triumphantly, all giddy inside that it worked, “I bound you, you are now under my control.”

“Is that so…”

Slow, testing, he took a step towards her, the chains rattling slightly. Summoning all her mental strength Mikasa stood fast, clutching the key like a lifeline.

“S-Stop!”, she commanded the demon, praying to the dark god that the spell will work.

The demon’s whole body shook as he tried to take another step, muscles refusing to move.

“You…”, his eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint entering them, “You don’t know what you are playing with…”

With a grunt he threw himself against the invisible bonds, straining.

“Release me! Or I will make you regret it.”

Despite all these dangerous words, despite all the threats he was forced to stand still and Mikasa felt her lips curving into a smile. She won. Finally, she had a demon under her control.

“I don’t think that I want to do that.”, confident she circled the frozen statue, admiring his body now that she could take a good look, “I think that I will keep you.”

He had a lot of scars, crisscrossing all over his skin, cuts of all shapes and sizes. Fascinated by one that went around his throat, Mikasa reached out, running her fingers over it.

And that was a mistake.

Fast as lighting the demon’s hand caught her wrist, pulling her body against his. Suddenly staring upwards into his smirk, Mikasa felt all her newfound confidence melting away because there was pure rage hidden in the emerald orbs.

“That was a good spell you had prepared, witch, but unfortunately for you, I am very good at attaining my freedom.”

“I-…”, she tried defending herself but the demon wouldn’t let her speak.

His other hand came up, circling Mikasa’s neck and for a second she feared that he will choke her to death. That fear didn’t come true as instead of pressure she could feel his fingers drawing patterns into her skin.

“Let’s see how you like being controlled.”, he whispered, and suddenly there was searing pain on Mikasa’s neck.

She stumbled backward, released from his embrace, and fell to her knees, hands clutching her throat. It burned like hell itself and Mikasa screamed in pain, but as quickly as it appeared it was gone, leaving nothing but a memory in its wake.

Or not, as there was something hugging her neck now.

Carefully tracing the thing with her fingertips Mikasa identified a new choker. She had one before, a simple strip of black leather, but this one was different. It was more like a tight collar, adorned with metal spikes all around.

“How does it feel, being collared like a dog?”, the demon rumbled, getting her attention.

“I… Strange.”, she gulped, realizing that having this “gift” from a demon might not be a good thing for her wellbeing,  “C-Can you take it off?”

“I can but I’m not going to. First I have to show you what amazing things it can do.”, he pointed one black claw towards the magic book, lying on Mikasa’s bed, “You do love spells, don’t you? And what better magic is there than demonic one.”

“Wha-“

Again, the demon didn’t let her finish.

“What’s your name?”, he asked.

Mikasa didn’t want to tell him. Names had power, even more so in magic, and telling yours to a demon is a bad move. But as soon as the question left his lips she found herself answering, unable to stop the words from tumbling out.

“Mikasa Ackerman.”

He grinned upon seeing her confusion.

“See? I own you now, mortal. As long as the collar is on you, I can make you do anything I want.”, his eyes raked all over her body, a hunger appearing in them – the same one that was there the last time they were together.

“Anything…”

The thin, abnormally long tongue slid out of his mouth, licking his lips.

“And there is a lot I want to do with you.”

Despite literally owning her right now, Mikasa didn’t hear any malicious intent in his voice. There was the primal hunger, lust, and also a fair bit of anger but no real hate or resentment. He would make her pay, but it would not be done in a way that she couldn’t handle.

The implications left not only a tingle of fear in her, but also a tingle of arousal, and the goth unconsciously pressed her thighs together to hide it. Only it didn’t escape the demon’s ever-seeing gaze.

“Stand up.”, was his next order and Mikasa did so, body moving on its own.

“Take off your skirt.”, this time her face boiled red as she mechanically obeyed, and still the demon wasn’t done with humiliating her, “And your stockings too.”

Just as she unclipped the first garter, a new order followed.

“Do it slowly. Give me a nice show, I like watching you.”

And she did so, rolling the black material down her legs in the most sensual way she could muster, unwilling and unable to meet the demon’s eyes. She could feel them though, as his gaze burned its way all over her pale legs, now bare of any clothing. With her lower half in nothing but the black panties Mikasa straightened, waiting on the next command from her infernal master.

He was breathing heavily now, she could hear, every exhale laden with maddening hunger for her. Watching her undress got all the fires going, it would seem.

“As much as I would like to get on with the fun, I do have to punish you for trying to bind me.”, he twirled his long fingers, “Turn around and bend over, hands on the bed.”

Again, her body mechanically obeyed, turning around and bending over, exposing her ass to him. And what an ass it was, even better than the demon remembered. Pale, firm, and perfectly shaped, the memories of it in his hands made his mouth go dry. Not to mention the thighs right under, because those deliciously thick and muscled legs…. He was beyond hungry.

Not yet, he reminded himself, first the punishment. Then the fun.

There was a clink behind her and because peeking was not forbidden she looked over her shoulder, seeing that one of the multiple belts came loose from the demon’s black pants. He was twisting the leather between his fingers, snapping it.

The image itself was almost enough to make her fall on her face.

“I believe that a few lashes with the belts will do you good, wouldn’t you agree?”

It wasn’t an order, she realized, it was a question. The demon, a literal demon from hell, was asking her consent. Normally that situation would be so funny that Mikasa would burst out laughing, but that did not fit what was happening inside her body.

Logically she should say no, of course, but logic didn’t have a place here. She summoned a demon – one that gave her some incredible oral pleasure during their first encounter, one she tried to bind, unsuccessfully, and one that was about to give her some good old spanking in retaliation.

Fuck, she wanted it, she wanted it so much.

Biting her bottom lip Mikasa nodded, but the demon wasn’t satisfied with that.

“Words, Mikasa, use those.”

This time it was an order but he didn’t use the magic collar and when the goth girl spoke it was completely out of her free will.

“Yes, I deserve it.”

“Were you a bad girl?”

“I was… I was a bad girl, sir.”

Mikasa added that last bit unconsciously, and from the deep grumble she could guess the effect it had on the demon. Ooh, he liked that.

“Where I come from, there is plenty of sinners like that, so I have a good idea on how to fix you.”, the buckle clinked as he swayed the belt, “I want you to count the lashes, can you do that for me?”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

A satisfied huff and a bit of silence after, making Mikasa wonder if…

The first blow landed on her ass, the slap of leather against skin loud. Taken by surprise she cried out, the flare of pain running through the whole body.

“One.”, she pushed out and was rewarded by a second sting. It was painful, sure, but it also sent pleasurable tremors towards her core. Mikasa was always a bit of pain enjoyer, and this rough treatment was something from her wildest dreams. Being punished by a demon was more like fanfiction than reality, but it was happening to her -right here and right now, and she couldn’t be more turned on.

By the fifth hit, there were tears in her eyes.

By the tenth she was dancing on her toes, clenching against the belt.

Fifteen was enough to satisfy the sadistic demon, and when she cried that number through her tears, the belt dropped to the ground. Suddenly Mikasa was picked up, turned around, and practically slammed against the wall. Her legs automatically hooked around the demon’s waist while his hands held her, one around the neck while the other caught her wrist and pressed it against the wall, immobilizing her.

He was sweating, droplets of liquid sliding over his scarred skin but it wasn’t because of the physical exertion. No, it was caused by the inhuman effort it took to hold himself back from ravaging the teary-eyed goth right here and there.

Even as a demon, he had certain standards.

“You took the whipping well, too well even. Tell me, do you like pain?”

“A little bit…”, she muttered, very conscious of the fire raging between her slick thighs.

A grin spread across his handsome features, the demon couldn’t help but admire her face, now that they were this close. Her grey eyes were regarding him with a hint of fear in them, but there was also the undeniable arousal smoldering, and he wanted to see that fire burn.

Letting go of her for a second the demon grabbed the bottom of her black top, bunched between their bodies, and pulled upwards, revealing her chest. Nice pair of firm tits, covered by a simple black bra, just as pale as the rest of her.

Fuck, he wanted to suck on them.

Returning his hand to its previous place, anchoring Mikasa’s wrist against the wall, the demon spoke up.

“I punished you so now we can move on to a more pleasurable activity. However - I may be a damned soul but despite your stunts I do not wish to force myself on you. So I’ll ask now, and I order you to answer me truthfully – do you want me to go on?”

The goth girl in his arms shook with what he guessed was pure lust, squirming against the restrictive hold he had on her body. Her midnight hair slid over his nose, the addictive scent reminding the demon of just how amazing she tasted.

Forcing himself to wait was torture, yet he held on.

Meanwhile, Mikasa’s mind was doing leaps and bounds all over the room. Her ass hurt but it was nothing compared to what was happening in the other place – she was beyond wet at this point, so turned on that stopping her hips from rubbing on the demon’s amazingly muscles stomach was a chore. Yes, she had to prevent herself from humping him like a sex-starved maniac. His words weren’t an order, just like last time, and when Mikasa spoke it was her own lust doing the talking, nothing else.

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to touch you?”, he continued.

“Yes.”

“Now…”, he leaned closer, next words a whisper, “ Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Hng... I…”

“Answer!”

“Y-YES! Please!”

The self-satisfied smirk grew even wider.

“Well, all you had to do was ask…”

Letting go of her wrist for the second time the demon moved his hand between her legs, rubbing her place of weakness through the dark underwear.

“So wet for me, so willing…”, gently he nudged her face with his nose, rubbing skin on skin, “Is this what you want so much? To be railed by a demon?”

PleasePleasePlease

Unable to speak from the sheer amount of want inside her, Mikasa settled on nodding rapidly.

The hand moved again, much to her dismay, this time stopping in front of Mikasa’s face. A bit of transmutation magic later the claws were gone, replaced by black fingernails.

“Open.”, an order this time and Mikasa’s mouth fell open immediately.

Pushing his fingers between her lips, a new command followed.

“Suck.”

Again she obeyed, swiping her tongue alongside those long digits.

“As much as I want to take you right now, I must stretch you out a bit first.” The demon went on monologuing, his eyes glued to her face, “I’d prefer it if you screamed in pleasure when I fuck you, not in pain.”

Those words went right into Mikasa’s core as she throbbed, impatient to finally have him touch her. Maybe sensing her eagerness the demon pulled the fingers out, dropping his hand between her legs instead. Panties nudged aside and suddenly he was rubbing her directly, fingers parting her dripping pink lips. A slight tap on her swollen clit had her gasping for air, but the opened mouth proved to be a mistake.

The demon practically attacked her, lurching forward to press his lips against hers. The abnormal tongue was back, once again slipping into her mouth and caressing the familiar places. At the same time, his digits finally pushed inside her, slipping into Mikasa’s wetness with a somewhat disgusting sound. The moan forced from her throat by the penetration was swallowed by him, keeping her silent.

For now.

Even without the main treat it was still a full meal. The demon fingered her expertly, curving his digits to rub the good places inside while also keeping his thumb occupied by toying with Mikasa’s clit. The kisses were rough and breathtaking, sucking any oxygen from her and he only left her lips to attack the neck instead, biting and kissing everywhere, renewing the faded lovebites from a week ago. Again and again, those sharp teeth sunk into the porcelain skin and Mikasa felt like she was going to go crazy.

Not even fucking her yet but she was already on the edge. The demon sensed it, of course, having his fingers deep inside her, feeling the contractions of her walls grow faster and more desperate. Smirking into her skin, a single word fell from his lips.

“No.”

The collar burned around Mikasa’s throat and she found her body obeying, disregarding her wishes. On the edge but not falling, she found herself unable to climax, somehow being prevented from doing so by vile demon magic.

“You bast-“

Her protest was cut short because her lips were slammed by his own, stealing Mikasa’s ability to express herself. Whining in protest she was rudely ignored by the demon, who took his time to scissor the fingers inside her instead, stretching her open, preparation for what was to come.

Despite being denied her release Mikasa’s body was more than enjoying this. She was moaning into the kiss, writhing on his fingers, ready and waiting for him. Seven hells be damned, he couldn’t wait any longer. Tearing the panties away with a flick of his wrist and letting his pants dissolve into a puff of black smoke, the demon grabbed his painfully hard length as he angled it correctly against the inviting wetness.

Push.

Mikasa’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open when she felt the head of his member parting her. She didn’t get a chance to look at it but judging from how it felt the demon was rather well endowed. The girth was impressive, stretching her beyond anything she felt before right down to her limits. This was a lot she was taking, and the demon was unyielding, hands gripping her waist as he impaled her, inch by inch. Insistent he forced himself in and Mikasa couldn’t do anything about it.

Yet her body accommodated to this fullness and the unpleasant feeling was replaced by a pleasant one. He went on and on until she feared that he will ram himself all the way into her guts but just as she was about to ask him to stop, the demon was fully sheathed.

Mikasa had never felt this filled in her life. The head of his member was pressed against the deepest part of her sex, no more space and no more length combining.

“Fuck,”, he cursed, “we fit together perfectly.”

On her part the goth couldn’t say a word, so full of him that thinking was impossible. Not that the demon mind that.

Gripping her waist he slowly pulled out, letting his length rub all the nice places inside her. When only the tip remained he reversed his move, pushing in again. In it went with a wet sound, out it went glistening with her juices, and he almost went feral upon seeing that.

Pushing down the need to ravage her, to split her open by ramming himself inside with full strength he continued this gentle dance of his hips, forcing her body to get used to him. Only when he felt her muscles weakening - when she gave way did he speed up.

In and out like a jackhammer, the demon was finally rutting into her with added strength and Mikasa couldn’t take it. She whined and moaned and gasped, unable to control her body at all. Her head fell back, knocking at the wall while her fingers curved against his back. She was holding onto him for dear life, black fingernails creating bloody lines in their path and adding to the plethora of scars on the demon’s back.

Still she couldn’t climax, still the collar’s magic prevented her from doing so and the goth could feel her sanity slipping away. She would beg if she could but Mikasa’s voice wasn’t of any use to her, anytime she opened her mouth only a sound of pure pleasure came out.

Helplessly open, Mikasa’s “Ah-Ah-Ah” was a direct feed to the demon’s ego. Oh, and what an egoist he was. Her voice was one thing, but when she throbbed down there – that was a feeling the demon etched into his memory with each thrust.

Edged, led on, and denied with the orgasm at the border of her vision, Mikasa was truly losing it.

She couldn’t speak so she screamed, screamed in pure desperation because the demon was now ramming the deepest part of her over and over again, grunting into her neck. Mentally she begged – with her eyes, with her touches, with her legs that squeezed his waist.

This was some truly hardcore fucking she was on the receiving end of, and Mikasa needed to let go, she would go crazy otherwise. The coil in her stomach was wound impossibly tight but unable to snap and it was getting too much to handle. The tears that fell from the grey eyes slipped over the red cheeks and landed on the demon’s body, finally waking him up from whatever pit of pleasure he was in.

Watching her, listening to her, and feeling her all around him, the demon deemed the punishment complete. Not even slowing down in the wild hammering of his hips, the slaps of flesh against flesh echoing through the room, he spoke. Three words, one sentence, and it was the most beautiful sound that Mikasa ever heard in her life.

“Cum for me.”

The collar’s magic was gone, the barrier dissipated, the coil snapped and the dam broke. Mikasa howled, her eyes rolling back and vision going white, black spots dancing all over it. The orgasm ripped through her entire being, from the tips of her curled toes to the ends of her sweat-matted midnight hair. She clutched to the demon because he was the only link to reality that she had, and the goth had to hold onto something otherwise her mind threatened to break completely, swept away by the overwhelming raw pleasure.

Sensing that if he kept it up she would truly go insane the demon slowed down, letting himself fully enjoy this feeling. Her walls fluttered like the wings of a trapped butterfly, the already tight passage grew even tighter and pulsed around his whole length. It felt amazing, out of this world and if he wasn’t a demon he would call it heavenly.

The slight wiggle of her hips woke him up from that place, putting him back to reality. Mikasa was watching him with wide grey eyes, pupils completely blown, the movements suggesting that she wanted to go down from her perch against the wall. She probably thought that this was it, that one mind-shattering orgasm is enough of a gift.

She was wrong.

“None of that.,” he denied her, tightening his grip on her sweat-slicked body, “I am far from being done with you.”

With those words, the most intense night of the goth’s life began.

During his aggressive fucking Mikasa’s remaining clothes, namely the black top and bra, were torn to shreds, leaving her in nothing but the spiked collar around her neck. In some strange need to bare her completely the demon even snapped her own choker away, leaving only the one he gifted her on.

The key was also allowed to stay and it dangled uselessly between her now fully exposed breasts, reminding Mikasa of her failed attempt to capture the demon. Now she was paying for it, when his sharp teeth closed around a nipple, sweetly tormenting the sensitive flesh.

Overall the demon took his time with her chest, kissing, licking, groping, and biting all over her breasts. Her chest was ravaged and Mikasa was bound to have so many bruises bloom on the skin tomorrow. Yet that was a problem for the future Mikasa to handle, the current one cared only about how great it felt, to have the demon’s teeth and tongue all over her tits.

She was taken in more positions and in more places than Mikasa could even count. The bastard spiked her pleasure with pain, slapping her ass while taking her from behind, irritating the welts that didn’t even get a chance to fully form.

Every suitable, and some unsuitable, place in her room was defiled by their activities as she was being maneuvered here and there by his unyielding touch. The demon expertly shifted his torment from denial to overstimulation, giving her more than she could handle and then some. He fucked her right into an orgasm and then right through it, holding her writhing body as she lost her consciousness in an unending stream of pleasure.

A sharp bite into the neck woke her, but if Mikasa thought that she was getting a break she was wrong. It felt like the longest night of the goth’s life and it was far from over.

Mikasa came a lot, losing count early into the debauchery, but the demon never finished, holding his release back. He also never tired, his demonic stamina far outpacing the one of a poor mortal. While at the start Mikasa was an active participant in their activities, by the end of it she was practically limp, praying to the dark god that she will survive this endless assault on her body and mind.

When the morning sun peeked at them from behind the windows, when the demon saw that his partner was on the verge of total blackout from sheer exhaustion, slipping in and out of consciousness, did he allow his iron self-control to break.

Coherent enough to pull out at least, he decorated her muscled stomach with spurts of unnaturally hot release. Wouldn’t want any half-demons running around now, would he? It was a lot, a night's worth of it, and Mikasa felt some splash as high as her face, but she was too far gone to care. Being a perfect demonic gentleman he even cleaned after himself with a muttered spell.

Only after himself though, so Mikasa’s filth was left behind for her to take care of. Whatever it was the limitation of the spell or just the demon’s twisted sense of humor, that would remain a mystery.

Just like that, it was over.

He was slipping out of her embrace and soon would be gone, leaving Mikasa with nothing but the ache and exhaustion. A deep part of her needed something, anything to hold onto, a word to connect these memories to, and “the demon” didn’t cut it anymore. She reached out, weakly grasping his wrist but he didn’t pull away, turning back to look at her.

“Please…”, she whispered, only half-coherent, “What’s your name?”

“My name? Demon’s names have powers, great powers, we do not give it lightly.”

“You know mine, it’s only fair.”

He snorted.

“A mortal name in exchange for an eternal one? Hardly equal.”

“Please…”, she begged again, “I want to remember you by it.”

For some reason he couldn’t explain, those words were tugging at the very base of the demon’s existence. He shouldn’t be this affected yet this mortal, this exhausted, sweaty, and filthy mess that could hardly string two words together after a night of demonic sex, this bundle of trembling muscles and pale skin marked by blooming bruises he left behind, this beautiful piece of ass that was welted by his belt just had power over him.

It wasn’t any spell the demon knew, but it was perhaps the most powerful pull he ever felt in his whole damned existence. He couldn’t say no to her.

He simply couldn’t.

“Eren.”, he said, “My name is Eren.”

Leaning down he pushed some of the sweat matted hair away from her angelic face.

“I hope that I won’t have to wait long until you summon me again, Mikasa.”

Giving in to the temptation the demon pressed a last kiss to her forehead, strangely loving and very un-demonic. And with that he was gone, disappearing back to wherever he came from.

On the ruined bed Mikasa sighed, already missing his warmth.

Was there a way to make him stay longer? Maybe even… permanently? The thought of having a full-time demon boyfriend made her giggle and she pressed her face into the pillow to muffle it.

The leather choker-slash-collar was still on her neck, gently tight around the skin, most likely left behind as a gift, and Mikasa already knew that it would become her everyday accessory. The spiked looked might be a bit too aggressive for most people, but she couldn’t care less. It was a gift from a demon, her demon, and she would treasure it.

Eren. His name was Eren and she would be seeing him again.

Soon.

#eremika #fanfic #snk

[your-turn-to-role]

new opinions of the cerberus assembly (etgw spoilers!!)

somewhat inspired by the conversations the other day, bc it’s reminded me i have a lot to say about these motherfuckers

let’s start with the obvious:

Master Trent Ikithon, Archmage of Civil Influence (Chaotic Evil Human)

Book Text: [Trent is respected as the acclaimed Propagandist of the empire and the third oldest member of the assembly. Once an instructor at the Soltryce Academy, he only returns every few years to collect young students for his experiments in the mental conditioning that he calls “awakening.” Many of these students go mad and are locked away, but those who endure become zealots for the assembly and join the Volstrucker, an elite group of arcane thugs commonly known as Scourgers, who perform the assembly’s dirtiest work under Trent’s direction.]

Most of this we knew. I hate this guy. Though, as a point of interest - Caleb’s for sure not the first person this has happened to. They account for a certain number of aspiring Volstrucker never completing the program, Caleb was just another statistic. Which means somewhere in Vergessen is a lot of other people with the same backstory who never managed to escape. That’s, something worth looking into, maybe.

Martinet Ludinus Da’leth, Archmage of Domestic Protections (Lawful Evil Elf)

[Ludinus is the oldest and only original member of the assembly, as well as the master of warfare and conflict. Charged with overhauling the military structure of the Dwendalian Empire, Ludinus directed the construction of the garrisons on the Xhorhasian border and often oversees their maintenance. He was one of the mages who survived the destruction of Molaesmyr and fled to Bysaes Tyl, but he saw the opportunity to achieve greatness within the empire and left his culture behind to continue his arcane pursuits. Wise, if emotionless, he bears a deep hatred for the Kryn Dynasty and spares no effort gathering information on their weaknesses and secrets. Ludinus spends most of his time developing arcane weapons of war and shoring up the military might of the empire, while subtly challenging the leadership of Crown Marshal Damurag.]

This guy’s old. That's the scariest thing about him really. Like, this guy's been in the empire since it was half its current size. This guy saw the destruction of Molaesmyr, and knew many of its residents. But he also rejected that society, purely for his own ends. He's at least 400 years old, more likely at least 500, and for the past 3-4 centuries has been focusing entirely on magic and warfare. That's a long time to hone those skills. Ludinus may say it's hard to compare power in the Assembly, but if I had to pick one of them for an end game boss, it would be him, no question. Trent's more of a wild card, sure, but he's only like 60, 70 years old. He's a baby compared to Da'leth. Keep an eye on this dude, and under no circumstances trust him.

Lady Vess de Rogna, Archmage of Antiquity (Neutral Evil Half-Elf)

[A public recluse for most of her life, Vess is both a brilliant mage and dedicated historian. She assumed this post after replacing her criminal predecessor, Lady Delilah Briarwood. As an instructor at the Soltryce Academy for over two decades, Vess has studied and unraveled a number of historical mysteries and pre-Calamity riddles — and hoarded some of the spoils for herself. Always eager to pursue forgotten lore and artifacts of eons past, Vess has been known to quietly vanish to Xhorhas for weeks at a time, returning with fewer guards and more uncovered secrets.]

Canon confirmation that this is who took over from Delilah Briarwood, and from what we’ve seen, they’re rather similar people. They're both scientists and historians, ruthlessly efficient, far more concerned with what they can learn and what they can do than what's good or safe for those around them. Liable to be found breaking the law in the name of science and progress. At least Vess has lasted longer than her predecessor.

Headmaster Oremid Hass, Archmage of Cultivation (Lawful Neutral Earth Genasi)

[The current headmaster of the Hall of Erudition in Zadash, Oremid is tasked with watching and grooming the next generation of mages and arcane specialists outside Rexxentrum. While he himself is a gentle soul who adores animals, he puts on the façade of a strict man with no sense of humor, which is further enhanced by the elemental influence of his earth genasi blood. He teaches students that failure is not an option, and that emotion is a barrier to one’s true ability. Equally feared, respected, and privately loathed by the students (and some instructors), Oremid personally dismisses those who break under his school’s curriculum and heaps joyous praise on those who endure their training.]

So, I've had teachers like this. And they stick in your mind, because, even a decade later, I still have a hard time getting over their instilled fear of failure. I can believe that, in general terms, Oremid's not a terrible person. I think he looks the other way on a lot of things, which precludes him from ever qualifying as good in my books, but he hasn't committed any major acts of torture or murder himself. Still though. You don't teach like that if you view your students as people. You teach like that if you view your students as potential assets. So like.... not as bad as some of his colleagues. Potentially someone they could work with if they had to. But still probably someone to stay away from.

Headmaster Zivan Margolin, Archmage of Conscription (Lawful Neutral Human)

[Zivan Margolin inherited the position of headmaster from his father, the late Jorma Margolin. Zivan has been the headmaster of the Soltryce Academy in Rexxentrum for nearly twenty years. Calm, patient, and quietly imposing, Zivan walks the halls of the Academy with a keen eye for talent. He is in charge of the curriculum and also watches for any latent powers that may be worth grooming as future allies of the assembly, dangers to be monitored, or prospective minds for Ikithon to conscribe into the Volstrucker. Zivan has rarely had the opportunity to demonstrate his full power, for he is typically busied with keeping the peace between the feuding members of the assembly. Those who have witnessed his true might, however, now know that his words are backed by some of the most powerful magics within the Cerberus Assembly.]

I think @lostsometime said it best, having the archmage of conscription be in charge of your elite magic school really sums up everything wrong with the empire. Like, if that's out in the open, your problems are unfixable. Get a new government. Jeez.

Master Doolan Tversky, Archmage of Dysology (Chaotic Neutral Gnome)

[The second-oldest member of the assembly, Doolan is in charge of the study and understanding of abnormal creatures and deviants of arcane creation that might threaten the empire’s way of life. She is an absentminded yet brilliant gnome who is obsessed with all beasts, aberrations, and creatures of legend. Doolan imports creatures from around the world to study, disassemble, and use in her attempts to revolutionize magical practices. She resents the Library of the Cobalt Soul, as her reputation has caused them to bar her from their facilities. She wishes to catalog the unstudied horrors of Xhorhas and has covertly obtained the services of the Myriad to retrieve new specimens.]

Now, Doolan is fascinating to me, not because I think she's a good person, but because she's just so delightfully weird. She's probably done some evil as fuck shit but she's also a gremlin of a gnome who loves weird fucked up arcane experiments and magical meteors that created eldritch ducks and all sorts of bizarre things like that. I'd love to see more of her, because there's always room in fantasy stories for more weird morally ambiguous old ladies who are banned from libraries on the grounds of "is about as likely to eat the books as she is to read them" and "last time we let her in here she somehow combined five forbidden rituals and created a new species of demon that haunts the halls of the rexxentrum archive spreading toxic slime everywhere and we can't figure out what it wants or how to make it go away".

Lord Athesias Uludan, Archmage of Diplomatic Union (Neutral Good Human)

[Athesias’s charm and bombastic personality serve him well as a diplomat. His duty is to foster a positive relationship with people of power both within and beyond the borders of the empire. He was originally one of the most effective instructors at the Soltryce Academy, but his penchant for spectacle and his rampant narcissism made him a difficult ally to trust with state secrets. When the office of Diplomatic Union opened, he was quickly and quietly reassigned. Athesias finds great pleasure in ruining or usurping the plans of his counterpart in the Crown’s employ, Emissary Lord Zeddan Graf.]

We’ve talked a bit about Uludan already - the Gilderoy Lockhart of the group for sure. Though I’m sure he has layers to him, so I’d be interested to find out what exactly they are.

And, saving the most interesting for last,

Baroness Jenna Iresor, Archmage of Industry (True Neutral Doppelganger)

[One of the younger members of the assembly, Jenna is known for her business acumen and her extravagant lifestyle. By hiding her nature as a doppelganger and using memory-altering magics at a young age to fabricate a false past, Jenna constructed her human persona from the ground up, leveraging her powers of deception to essentially write herself into history as a Clovis Concord expatriate. She helps oversee central guild business in Rexxentrum under Guildmaster Kai Arness, and helps Exchequer Aethia Drooze organize the collection of tithes through starostas across the empire.]

I am, insanely curious about how a doppelganger ended up in the Cerberus Assembly. She’s definitely ambitious for sure, doppelgangers already have a fair bit of innate magic - they’re natural shapeshifters and have a fair amount of psychic powers (like reading minds of anyone who happens to be near them), but to get here she had to be extremely committed. Which means she probably has plans for this position, or had plans that she’s already put into motion. Very interested what those are, especially for the archmage of industry.

#cr2 #cr spoilers #explorer's guide to wildemount #cerberus assembly #trent ikithon #ludinus da'leth #vess derogna #oremid hass #jenna iresor #athesias uludan #doolan tversky #zivan margolin #cr thoughts #text #meta

[packsbeforesnacks]

Blank Space || Darwin & Winn

TIMING: Wednesday, July 1st, 2020, Late Afternoon LOCATION: Fine Print (Darwin’s Bookstore) PARTIES: @wardinasrani & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: Winn visits Winston’s contact, Darwin, hoping to find answers about his hidden memories. When Darwin looks into Winn’s mind, the answer shocks them both. WARNINGS: Brief depiction of an anxiety attack.

Truth be told, Darwin wasn't too keen on coming out of hiding. The ritual a couple of weeks back had drained him, and it had taken him days to even feel like himself again. He wasn't an idiot, he knew the Asrani probably had people on his trail, and he'd decided to disappear at least until his magic came back. Now he could feel his energy flowing through his veins once again, power crackling at his fingertips, but did he feel safe from the Asrani's reach? Not really. Still, this was a favor to Winston, the kid he'd doomed with a cursed eye, the kid that had allowed him to perform the ritual that had stopped what could very well have been an apocalypse. Darwin owed Winston, the whole town owed Winston. White Crest might not be aware of its debt to the kid, but Darwin wasn't going to forget the part Winston had played in keeping the world safe. He'd help their friend, even if that meant coming out of hiding. When he heard the bell on the store ring, he raised his head and offered a polite smile. The door was open, even though the sign outside said closed. “Welcome. You must be Winston's friend, correct?”

It had taken a minute for Winn to find Fine Print, especially given the gaps in his memory (ha) he was still filling in with regards to the town’s twists and turns. Each new street could have hidden shops he’d never been into — and that was even before you started thinkin’ about all the magical shit that Winn couldn’t see, or could only see part of. Winston had put a lot of faith in this guy, so he hoped their bet paid off. Fine Print was louder than any bookstore Winn had ever been in (admittedly, not many), noises echoing from behind each shelf as he made his way to the only other person in the store. Winn considered Darwin’s question longer than was really appropriate, given its straightforwardness. “Friend, yeah, that’s me.” Winn wasn’t sure if Winston considered him a friend, but he’d let that last worm of anxiety wriggle its way around his head when there wasn’t a hole in his head — memories, whatever. “You’re the, uh,” he glanced around, knowing full well that there wasn’t another soul — well, maybe he shouldn’t go that far — in the store, “specialist that they mentioned, right? Darwin? I’m Winn.” Should he sit? Should he shake hands? His normal social graces weren’t applicable here, in the mage’s home territory. And God forbid he pick up a book just to make himself feel less awkward.

Darwin smiled as he studied the newcomer. Part of him, the part that he tried to hide from himself, enjoyed his nervousness: as an Asrani he'd been taught to use other people's anxiety, wield it as a weapon in order to get the best bargain. It was the reason behind the villainous mustache, the dark silk shirts, the haunted noises in his domain and the theatricality in everything he did: it created expectations in other people minds, tricked them into thinking he shouldn't be messed with. But this particular meeting wasn't about scoring a good deal, it wasn't about covering his own ass... Winn was no threat to him, and Darwin had nothing to gain from this except the warm, satisfying feeling of a good deed done. It was worth it: he had much to atone for on behalf of his family, any small step to improve his standing in this community and his karma was worth the risks. He walked over to Winn and nodded, offering him his hand. “Darwin Asrani, yes. The... Specialist.” That word sounded a bit cold to his ears: mental magic wasn't surgery, it wasn't something anyone could ever truly master: each mind was different, each spell simple at its core but presenting unexpected turns and surprises at every corner. Darwin gestured toward the small door at the end of the store, leading to the basement. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Winn. Tell me, are you the type that would prefer some small talk before getting into the reason for your visit, or would you rather jump straight to the point? I can make tea.” He was aware that, to someone who didn't know him, anything he said probably sounded sinister, but nevertheless Darwin tried to keep his tone friendly and casual.

Winn took Darwin’s hand in his own and shook it firmly before letting go. “Um,” he said, frown on his face, “I don’t mean to be rude, but… smalltalk afterwards, maybe? Sorry, it’s just… if the problem can get solved, I’d rather get it over with. It’s been a pain.” He looked towards the door, humming a bit in the back of his throat. “Some tea could be nice, though? I’m, uh, a little nervous?” It wasn’t the first time Winn had met a spellcaster, sure, but magic was all still so new to him. That mystery, ironically, kept Winn comfortable. The more he knew about it, the more scenarios his mind would play out, trying to figure out what could be possible. He’d already lost two years of memories to magic — albeit of a different origin, apparently. Winn had seen Nell summon, what, hellhounds? Winn might be a scary story, but magic was a fairytale, and, save for demons, was the hardest thing for Winn to accept about the supernatural world. Even Otto’s assertion that his father had protected his office hadn’t eased Winn’s anxieties around it. “I, um, don’t know how much they told you, about me, but to cut to the chase… I can’t remember everything in my past. For two years, there’s a… blur. I thought that I had been,” turned into a wolf, “preoccupied, during that time. But some folks say they saw me during that time… and I don’t remember ever seein’ them. My, um, my friend threw me into a tree, recently, and I slipped into a, like, almost a fugue state? Not the kind from any sort of identity disorder, but I couldn’t remember — can’t remember — the next five minutes. I came to, but… Yeah. I don’t want that to happen again. Someone,” how to phrase this delicately? “... could get hurt.”

Darwin nodded and offered Winn another smile. “Nervous is exactly what you should be,” he murmured solemnly. Jumping into magic with no fear, no doubts, that was reckless and stupid. Winn's concerns were understandable, wise even. Then again, Darwin reminded himself, doubts could also become obstacles when it came to magic. “My tea is terrible,” he concluded with a shrug, hoping the joke would ease the tension as he led his guest to the room. Darwin opened it and walked downstairs. Walls covered with libraries, a small altar in the middle of the room, runes and circles scribbled and carved everywhere, and a small electrical stove, along with some kitchen supplies. The room wasn't well-stocked enough to live there, but it had enough supplies to make some tea, and while Winn shared his tale, Darwin listened carefully, keeping himself busy with the stove. At the end of the tale, he turned around, arms crossed as the water boiled. “Mh. I see. Two years is quite a long time. My first guess would be, well...” He paused and bit his lip, stroking his mustache as he stared at Winn, deep in thought. The young man wasn't sharing everything: vague words like 'preoccupied', the awkward pauses... Darwin sighed. “Actually, I have a couple of theories. I'm going to assume you already tried regular medicine. When people come to me, they're usually at the end of their rope.” There he went again with the villainous talk. He shook his head and continued “I mean... Messing with magic can be dangerous, I'm sure Winston told you, and people don't always trust a perfect stranger with their mind, and who can blame them? But you need to understand... If you want my help, you'll have to be honest with me, no lies, no omission, or someone could get hurt.” He chuckled after echoing Winn’s own words, trying to show the guy he wasn’t threatening him, just offering Winn the same honesty Darwin was demanding of him. “So before I share my theories, I have to ask... Are you willing to do that?”

The room was about as Winn imagined a sorcerer’s would be, somethin’ out of Arthurian legend or the study of Freyja, but with modern edges, and an… altar? Some sort of centerpiece, definitely, and Winn didn’t know nearly enough about magic to begin to guess at what the placement, the runes, the shapes meant. It was enough to send his head spinning, so he focused on Darwin, ignoring the thrum of energy in the air. He’d known, of course, that he’d have to admit what he was to the mage, but… Well, he wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t make him a bit uncomfortable, what seemed like every spellslinger in White Crest knowin’ about the werewolf with the broken memory. In the wrong hands, that information could be dangerous. But… Winn trusted Winston, knew that they wouldn’t intentionally steer him into a trap. “I’m willing. Um. I’m goin’ to assume you already know about… shapeshifters. Selkies, bugbears, and… werewolves.” He paced, careful to avoid stepping on anything not recognizably English. “I’m a werewolf. Bitten, not born. I, um, it’s been almost a decade. I have a friend whose parents trained him to be a hunter and we’ve been researchin’ for weeks — or, well, he has. Nothin’ we’ve found has been useful. Until a couple of months ago, I had just thought I was… transformed, for a really long time. Thought maybe the animal didn’t know… didn’t feel the passing of time? But I called up an old packmate after I got into a… fight, with another wolf. I’ve always been fairly in control of my emotions. But this was… different. And then, later that month, my friend tossed me into a tree while I was shifted, and I almost killed her. I pulled back, barely, but… My dad, he’s, um, a huxian? He suggested it might be magical, and then pretty much everyone else has thought the same thing. So… Tada. Here I am.” He gave a weak smile. “If you have any questions, I’ll answer them. Sorry, just… y’know, I’m not human, technically. Some folks aren’t big on that.”

“I know of shapeshifters, know they exist, but nothing really specific.” Darwin replied. The natural curiosity that had pushed him to explore the Asrani library even before his father was ready to begin his training was throbbing inside him, and it took all of Darwin's willpower not to ask Winn about a dozen questions. When he mentioned a Hunter friend, though, Darwin couldn't keep a small snort at bay. Talk about unlikely friendship. After a pause, Darwin moved his hand toward Winn's shoulder in an attempt to squeeze it to reassure him. And, well, the guy had amazing shoulders, Darwin couldn't deny it. “Don't worry. This here? Judgement-free zone. An amnesiac werewolf doesn't even score in the top five dangerous creatures that I've dealt with.” The loud whistling noise let Darwin know the tea was ready, and he quickly poured two cups, offering one to Winn. He took a sip from his own, squinted and then abandoned the cup on a small desk, mumbling something about needing more sugar. “Magic can erase memories. Or, rather... Make them inaccessible. Though I don't know why someone would do that to you. There's a chance they wanted to hide something else. Maybe you witnessed something a caster wanted to be kept secret. Maybe they even manipulated you and then blocked those two years out so you wouldn't be able to go after them.” Darwin started circling the room, pacing back and forth, talking more to himself than Winn. Then he suddenly stopped and turned to stare at the werewolf. “The wolf. Is it... A separate entity within you? Does it have wishes and urges that are different from yours? Is 'it' even the right pronoun? What I mean is... Are we dealing with one or two minds, here?”

The squeeze to Winn’s shoulder was comforting, if slightly too long. He resisted the urge to waggle his eyebrows, knowing that him being serious was the most important thing here, not flirting to ease tension. “Maybe sometime I’ll ask you ‘bout that list, man.” Winn sipped the tea after a moment, wincing at the bitter taste. Hm… Okay, so. Darwin hadn’t been lyin’, that was crap. Rather than be rude, he let it cool down. It would be water soon enough. There were theories, but Winn, not unkindly, didn’t want to hear them without knowin’ the truth. Darwin could deal with the magic; Winn would deal with whatever was waitin’ for him after he broke through. Winn gave the question some thought. “I… I mean, it’s me, right? I am the wolf, the wolf is me. It’s…” Winn sighed. No judgment, Darwin had said. “It was easier, when the wolf had blood on its claws, to act like it was… separate from me, in some ways. After a while, it became a habit.” He picked up the tea again, took a sip, made the same exact face. It’s not like his memory had been great before he’d had them taken from him. “But… I don’t know, when I’m transformed, even on the bad nights — near the Moon. I remember everything. I have since the end of that first year or so. Average, from what they tell me, for Bitten. When I almost attacked Blanche?” Winn gave a thoughtful hum. “It was… almost like an instinct, one that overrode my senses and consciousness. I… a defense mechanism? Could that be somethin’? I mean, I know for… humans, their minds can develop responses to trauma that can’t really be… explained, with a simple answer. So, maybe it’s just… my mind tryin’ to protect itself? Maybe there’s somethin’ down there that I shouldn’t touch? I don’t have any answers… well, except the original one, I guess. No. The wolf isn’t different, or, uh, isn’t supposed to be. Just a turn of speech.”

“Oh, it's a fascinating list, one better enjoyed in front of dinner.” The invitation in Darwin's words wasn't subtle at all, but he didn't push any further than that: they were having a Serious Conversation™ . “Defense mechanism, mh. Makes sense. You know earlier, when I asked you if you'd explored different venues before turning to magic? That's what I meant. Trauma can block memories, and that's as mundane as it gets, something I couldn't help with no matter how deep I dug. But from what you're saying...” Darwin hesitated, not sure how to phrase things. He'd never really discussed the nature of werewolves with anyone, let alone with an actual werewolf, so he wasn't sure what would cross the hypothetical line of werewolf etiquette. After a few moments, he decided he'd deal with this not unlike a medic: clinically, detached. But damn if he wasn't curious. “Well, from what you're saying, you normally remember what you do in wolf form, even if you can't always control it. So either what you've blocked is bigger and worse than any other stuff you remember, or there's something else at play.” There was only one way to know for certain, but Darwin wasn't sure how to bring it up: 'Hey, can I look inside your mind?' wasn't exactly a first meeting offer. Then again, it had been Winn seeking him out, so... “There's a spell I can do. It would allow me to take a peek under the hood, so to speak, catch a glimpse of what's going on in that head of yours. But I have to be honest: it's a one way show, I'll see some shallow thoughts, but you won't be able to see inside my head. It might feel... invasive, I suppose. But it's the quickest way I can get an idea of what's going on and at least narrow it down. On the bright side, it would only take a couple of minutes. And, ah... to even the score, I'll answer truthfully any one single question you may have about me. And, of course, any questions you might have about the process.”

Unlike his tryst with Jimmy, Darwin’s invitation didn’t make Winn feel quite so… gross. He was happy to flirt, but… well, after. Regardless of what Noah and he decided to do, bein’ charming was, well, part of his charm. “That sums it up,” Winn said, popping the p. Even for a werewolf, there were things Winn could comfortably say he didn’t know much about — subspecies that he’d only heard about in whispered rumors, whatever hybrid monsters Adam had spoken about. But this was different. “It gets… harder to control, near the Full Moon, yeah. And on,” the three days of, “the Full Moon, we transform. Bam, the legends are true. Some of them.” He laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “Let’s do it,” he said, immediately. Winn wasn’t one to wait, even if — when — waiting was the best option. When he saw somethin’, he needed to go and handle it. His memory had been weighin’ on him for too damn long, and he wanted to know. Curiosity, though typically noted of cats, called Winn to think hard about the question he’d ask Darwin, too. “Man, I’d have questions, if I knew what questions to even have. Um, will it… hurt? I guess? It doesn’t matter, I’ll take the pain, just… preparing myself, y’know. Werewolves and gettin’ hurt don’t always go great together, so please… I know you said I wasn’t dangerous, but I can be. So, I don’t know, maybe have a sleepin’ spell in your back pocket, in case you need to Sleeping Beauty me. If that’s a thing.” It had to be a thing, right?

“Wow, I give you a free pass at any personal info, and you don't go for my digits straight away? That tea must have been really bad. That, or I've lost my charm.” Darwin joked, adding a playful wink to the end of it for good measure. It seemed like Winn was more at ease whenever he assumed a less formal tone, so Darwin switched his posture to a more casual one. Yet, no matter how relaxed he wanted to keep it, he realized what Winn was saying was a real concern. Being trapped in a basement with a bloodthirsty monster was not something Darwin wanted to try any time soon. Sleeping spells existed, of course, but to check Winn's head he'd have to get close to him, so close that he wouldn't be able to even utter abracadabra before being ripped to shreds if the werewolf decided to appear. How quick did the change happen, anyway? Darwin shook his head to chase those distracting questions away, and looked at Winn, this time serious. “It will only hurt if you push me away.” The times he'd seen the ritual performed, when his father had done it to some unwilling rivals to steal their secrets, it had looked mighty uncomfortable at best and hellishly painful at worst. But Darwin himself had also done it with friends and lovers alike, using it to get closer to each other when words just wouldn't cut it. “This sort of spell can either feel invasive, or... Well, intimate, but that's up to you. It's why I offered you a question: trust will make it easier, on both of us.”

“Ah,” Winn said, an easy laugh coming out of his mouth. “I’m… goin’ on a first date with this guy, Saturday. I tried to… burn off some tension, if y’catch my drift, and it was a little weird. Given you’re about to poke around in my head, I feel like I should just come clean… If he and I had DTR’d or were open or whatever? Well, I know an easy way to help us both relax. That said, you could always steal a kiss away. Door’s open, Darwin.” He let that hang in the air for a moment, giving the man time to consider the offer. Sex? Definitely off the table, not even a little bit alright. But… one kiss? That wasn’t that bad of an idea. “So, ‘m not gonna be sorry if you see some colorful details in there, dude. You’re stacked and I have eyes.” He winked. “‘Sides, I’m fine with intimate. I’m tryin’ this new thing where I just tell folks shit that they might want to know. I won’t push you away. Hell, get as close as you need.” Winn thought through Darwin’s ask a little more carefully. It seemed, almost, like askin’ something would make the other man more comfortable. And, hell, he’d been thinkin’ a lot on the subject lately, so there was… one question that occurred to him. Winn was just the brand of shameless to ask. “What’s it like for you, when you fall in love?” he said before he could stop himself, though he quickly followed it up with, “I know you said… anything, but if that’s too, uh, personal, I get it. Really, I do. I can always get your number.” He smiled, this one a little more real, and left himself open to Darwin’s best… or worst.

Darwin seriously considered the offer: Winn was extremely attractive, and one way or another he was about to be inside him anyway. The way he licked his lips made it abundantly clear that the temptation was there, but ultimately Darwin shook his head, albeit a little reluctantly. “I'm not the sort to steal kisses, Winn. No way to enjoy the build up and the aftermath of a kiss if it's stolen and tinted with guilt. More importantly, I'm not a home-wrecker. Or, well, an opportunity-killer, if things aren't that serious. You seem pretty into this guy, and I'm not gonna jeopardize that.” Again, a wink, followed by a low chuckle. “That said, if come Saturday you two have defined things and the door's still open, I'll let you have my number anyway.” Winn's eagerness to share was refreshing; the people that usually came to Darwin were secretive at best, with far too many things to hide for Darwin's taste. Hell, Darwin himself had his fair share of secrets, but he only kept those because he knew they'd scare most people off, not because he really wanted to keep them hidden. What Winn asked, though? That wasn't scary, and Darwin let out a relieved sigh when he heard the question. “Not too personal at all. Could've asked way worse shit. But it is a... Difficult question. I could wax some poetry, feed you some lines like 'it just feels right', but truth is... I don't know.” With his father keeping such a close eye on him, Darwin had never gotten the chance to grow close enough to someone to fall, he'd barely had the time for the casual one night stands he'd somehow managed to keep a secret from his legacy-obsessed family. And once he'd finally left them, he'd been too busy moving from place to place, following demons summoned by the Asrani and fixing their mess. Wow. Up until that particular moment, Darwin hadn't really thought about how much his family had taken from him. “Never been in love, I don't think. Been in lust, had some intense friendships, but love? Never had the chance. I can only assume it feels... like home. Not my home, mind you, my home was a mess, but like... a not fucked up home. One that accepts all of you, one where you feel comfortable and safe and can be simply yourself and walk around in your boxers, one that smells like your favorite food and... Sorry, I guess I am waxing poetry now. What can I say, I'm a romantic at heart.” They were getting off topic, but it had been a while since Darwin had just had a pleasant chat with someone, one that wasn't necessarily about dark pacts, obscure rituals and potential apocalypses. Again, refreshing. “Why that question? Of all the questions you could have asked, you went for the love one right after sort of” another wink, the last in what felt like a long series for such a brief meeting “turning me down. Sending some mixed signals here, buddy.” Before Winn could have the chance to answer, Darwin placed a finger on his lips to silence him. “Actually… Perhaps you should answer that after Saturday, mh? After all, you did turn me down. I’m guessing that date is related to the question, and we don’t want you focused on all these confusing emotions right before I dive into your head. Besides, I’d like to talk more, get to know you. Platonically, I mean. Haven’t had the chance to meet many friends here, so… Let’s not burn all the steps with the deep personal love stuff just yet, mh?”

Leaning forward, Winn settled in for Darwin’s explanation. He couldn’t find it in himself to be… disappointed, per se, but Darwin’s decision to stay out of his and Noah’s dance — or, well, Twister game — only confirmed that Winn could trust this man, even if the man had a story, a past, and plenty of secrets. If he wasn’t relaxed before, the last coil of anxiety had been taken from his gut. When Darwin explained, Winn couldn’t help but smile a bit. The honesty was nice; Darwin reminded him almost of Rio in that way. Romantic at heart, a big apologetic for when he rambled, but ultimately kinder than… well, what White Crest could turn people into, if they let it. When Darwin’s finger left Winn’s lips, he nodded. “I’d like that, too,” he said, after a moment. “But,” he clapped his hands together, “leeeeet’s do this. Spread me open, bro.” Wow. Talk about an innuendo. There was an energy to this interaction, and Winn wasn’t sure if it was the magic coursing through, what, Darwin’s veins? Or if it was simply the chemistry of two future friends. Either way, Winn was diggin’ it. Felt better than wiggin’ about his memories. “How do you want me?”

Darwin tried to keep a straight face. Seriously, he gave it his best shot, he bit his tongue and winced at the pain of that. But in the end, he just couldn't keep it in, and his loud, baritone laughter echoed in the basement. “That was... so bad,” he finally let out with a gasp, shaking his head. “I've used some terrible pick up lines, but you've got me beaten.” Again, he patted Winn's shoulder, this time the relaxed gesture of two buddies sharing a good laugh and nothing more. Well, almost nothing more, the guy still had incredible shoulders, and Darwin's hand lingered there. He used the contact to cop a feel, sure, but also to lead Winn toward the desk where his tea had been abandoned. With his leg, he pushed the chair, to give Winn room to sit, and then he gently pushed the man on it. “At the cost of being just as cheesy as you've been, I'll need you to relax, it'll make it easier. I'm also going to look like one of those evil hypnotists you see on TV, but no pocket watch or swirling spirals. Just some intense eye contact as I try to establish a... a connection with your mind.” As he spoke he lowered his voice to a soft whisper, and put both his hands on Winn's temples, tilting his head slightly so he could look in his eyes. “Just focus on my breathing, and try to match it. Slow and easy. Take me in as you inhale, let your worries out as you exhale. Like meditating, but we're doing it together.” For a moment he wondered if his sandalwood cologne would smell chemical to a werewolf this close, and if he could sense Darwin's natural scent, but instead of dwelling on that — more questions for their potential friendly outing — he started gathering his energy. He didn't need words for this particular ritual but he kept murmuring, to give Winn something to follow as Darwin visualized his own conscience enveloping his hands. He couldn't see auras, but he liked to think his right now would look like a bright ball of energy surrounding Winn's head, warm and almost electrical as his essence moved around, gentle, tentative almost, looking for an opening, hoping Winn (more importantly, his wolf instincts) would feel safe enough to make his job easier.

Even if it had been an accidental joke, Winn still was happy to hear Darwin laugh, even slightly at his expense. “Only terrible,” he said, with another friendly wink, “if it’s never worked.” He allowed Darwin to put one of his big, warm hands on Winn’s shoulder — and, hm, okay, heel boy — and guide him to sit. Darwin was close, and he was right, this was intimate. Winn could think of partners whose face he hadn’t gotten this close to. Winn snorted at the joke, but tried his best to relax. In, out. Darwin smelled like cologne, sandalwood one of the few scents that Winn enjoyed, but if Winn inhaled deeper, and he did, he could smell something… like a burning, almost, but it was faint. Underneath, though, Darwin’s scent reminded him of… Ricky’s, almost. Saltwater and the outdoors, someone perpetually destined to be a wanderer. Unlike the mountain scents that Winn associated with pack, this one was, admittedly, a little strange to him. Not… bad, but strange. In, out. Darwin’s hands on his head buzzed, almost, and it wasn’t painful, not quite, but the feeling was… too much, almost. His mind had only ever had Winn in it, that he’d remembered, but. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. His eyes, though open, lulled to a half-closed state, his gaze lost in Darwin’s dark ones. There was so much on Winn’s mind, at all times, but here, like this, the cores rose up to meet Darwin. Winn wouldn’t describe it, except that his mind was… light. Noah, his friends, his newfound purpose, all lived there, linked together and shining out from Winn. Without thinking, his lips slid into a smile. Inhale. Exhale. The light, though, cast… a shadow. And within that shadow, concealed from vision, was a hole. The shadow, his mistakes, his anxieties, the ways in which he’d failed, time and time again, to make things right. And, if Winn followed Darwin’s energy, he could almost feel the absence in his mind. It hurt, more than he could describe, but it wasn’t… physical. It was grief, loss, unnamed things and unremembered things. And then, Winn’s eyes glassed over, as Darwin looked into what his mind refused to see.

Winn's mind was not what Darwin would have expected when looking into what people often described as a savage beast. While the spell was too superficial to really put faces to the soft feelings swirling inside Winn's head, it was clear that those bonds meant a great deal to the man sitting in front of him. That was the mind of a protector, not a monster. Like demons, perhaps werewolves were misunderstood, and people should focus more on their deep sense of family and pack rather than their fangs and claws. Then again, this might just be Winn, not a werewolf thing. Darwin had learned long enough not to generalize when it came to these things. Feeling Winn grow more comfortable with what they were doing, he dove deeper, moving past the superficial thoughts, those that were either so ingrained in Winn's core or so fresh that the man had no trouble remembering them on his own. The painful memories, the doubts and fears weren't unexpected; everyone had dark corners in their mind, and Darwin did his best to move past those as quick as he could, to let the man have as much privacy as he could give him. But what he sensed next... Darwin's spell was meant to let him reach within for things he'd lost, things that might have been locked away. And once he'd found those cages, he'd just open them and return the memories to Winn. Simple, clean. Except there were no cages. What he saw was... a void. Like a puzzle missing a few pieces. Darwin paused, so baffled that Winn would probably be able to sense it through their temporary connection. Winn's memories weren't trapped, they weren't hidden under a hazy fog, or lost in an endless sea. They were just... a blank space. Darwin moved his thumbs' on Winn's temples, trying to soothe him as best he could as he lingered in his head, searching for something that wasn't there. Perhaps it was the fact he was dealing with a wolf, but the longer he spent looking, the more he felt like a dog chasing a ball that'd never been thrown. He spent minutes hunting, each moment everlasting, but no matter how much he tried... Nothing. Finally Darwin gave up, and he slowly pulled back, his hands releasing Winn's face as the last remnants of his conscience left him. He gave Winn a few moments to recover before opening his mouth to speak. And then he closed it again, not sure how to break the news to him. The silence, coupled with the grim expression on Darwin's face, spoke volumes, and when he finally made a sound it was tentative, guilty almost. “How are you?”

The fuzz from Darwin’s temporary confusion stung at Winn’s temples, almost like brain freeze, and he felt himself wince even if he was practiced enough at weathering pain to not break the connection. In, out. He bit into his lip, so hard he was half-sure it was bleeding. Darwin spent more time in his head, looking for what he wasn’t sure. Winn trusted the spellcaster — or, trusted that Winston trusted the spellcaster — and knew that, if he could just wait, just be patient, then Darwin would ever be able to put his fractured mind back together. But, the longer Darwin looked, the more Winn began to sense that… that maybe his mind wasn’t fractured, so much as missing something. That hole, the one hidden beneath the shadows, was that… was that an actual hole and not just a place where things were hiding in wait? He felt a spike of anxiety run through him as Darwin pulled away, and Winn searched his face. When the silence didn’t break, when Darwin’s mouth just kept opening, shutting, and the look grew even more grave, Winn started to ask… and found he couldn’t. How are you? Well, panicking, if Winn was going to be honest. He took a few breaths, trying to calm himself down, but he knew the signs of an anxiety attack like the back of his hand. Winn hadn’t had one in years, had grown to an expert at managing them between therapy and becoming a counselor-in-training himself. But something about this one was different, and Winn felt himself burying his face in his hands, blocking out the light, blocking out Darwin’s pained expression. There was a part of him that wanted Darwin to touch him, to reach out and say something. And then there was the part, equally as strong, that was sure that would make him lash out at someone who didn’t deserve it. And so Winn took shuddering breaths as he tried to wrap his head around what he sensed was true. Finally, a whisper, “... They’re not there.” It wasn’t a question.

Darwin could only watch in silence as emotions danced on Winn’s face, and he felt like some sick peeping tom, even more so than when he’d been inside his mind. He watched as doubt turned to fear and then into terrible certainty, and he felt powerless to help Winn. The selfish part of him was glad at least that the werewolf seemed to have grasped the situation, it kept Darwin from struggling with how to break the news to him. As things stood now, there was nothing his magic could do for Winn: nothing to release, nothing to fix. Maybe, maybe Darwin could help if only Winn had a vague hint about where the memories had gone. Who’d taken them. But this whole situation was obviously something Winn didn’t fully understand, and Darwin assumed if he’d had some vague suspicion he’d have shared it with him. Darwin could maybe tell him that, should the memories be found, it would be possible to put them back where they belonged, but right then, staring at Winn’s chest rising and falling with deep breaths as he tried to calm himself down, Darwin didn’t have it in him to offer his new acquaintance (possible friend?) any false hope. So, after a long, endless pause, he just lowered his head and sighed. His hand moved once again to Winn’s shoulder, this time not to feel the muscles there, but just to offer a small anchor in this moment where the rug had been pulled from under his feet. He opened his other arm in a silent invite, and simply whispered… “No. No, they’re not.”

#wickedswriting #para #Darwin #Blank Space #Chain of Memories

[mysterylover123]

My Top 10 Halloween Episodes

mysterylover123

Happy Halloween Everyone! 

I’ve been rewatching my favorite shows’ Halloween episodes as a means to prepare for the holiday (and get ideas for things to do!) and I’ve decided to compile a list of my Top 10 favorites. These are the episodes I consider the best, the most packed with spooky goodness and Halloween surprises, of all the shows I’ve seen. Let me know if there’s one I should check out!

#10. The Simpsons “Treehouse of Horror V”

“NO TV AND NO BEER MAKE HOMER SOMETHING SOMETHING.” “GO CRAZY?” “DON’T MIND IF I DO!”

While I do wish Simpsons had stopped at Season 10 like most, I can still acknowledge its absolute mastery of the Halloween episode with this annual anthology. And like most, I can also concede that the best of the best, the creme-de-la-creme, is the 5th one: The Shinning parody of course, first and foremost, is absolutely classic and deservedly so. Having recently endured a week without power, and thus NO TV AND NO...NOT BEER BUT COFFEE...I totally get where  Homer is coming from. The other two segments, and other Halloween eps, are also strong as well. But you can’t have a proper TOP 10 HALLOWEEN EPS list without a Treehouse of Horror. So here it is!

#9. Spectacular Spider-Man The Uncertainty Principle”

“Twas the night before Halloween, and no folks were stirring, not even Green Gob...lan.”

Spidey is one of the few superheroes with both the whimsical roster of characters and the appropriately spooky rogues gallery to make for great Halloween episodes. While Spider-Man and his amazing friends in 1981 started out with it’s own Goblin Halloween ep, my nod has to go to Spectacular’s ‘Uncertainty Principle’, a suitably creepy episode featuring all the stuff you want around this holiday. The cast in whacky costumes, spooky decor, and creepy plotlines about the Green Goblin and the arrival of the Symbiote. It’s even more horrifying in hindsight when you find out what’s really going on in the series finale...but for itself, it’s a suitably spooky time. Also, Spider-Man dressed as Spider-Man for Halloween.

#8. Angel “Life of the Party”

“Some are saying it’s an even better ritual sacrifice than the one last year.”

The absolute master of the Halloween episode is uncontrovertibly the Buffy-verse. I have 3 entries on this list alone, and it was hard to resist including a forth. But for now, let’s start out with Angel’s sole incursion into the Halloween genre, an Office Party ep from their 5th season. Spoiler alert: Season 5 is about Team Angel taking over Wolfram and Hart and trying to use it for good. The Halloween party there is a big deal and Lorne is going nuts from planning it. Consequently, we get a wild ride of demon guests, LorneHulk, Team Angel doing crazy things, and whacky Halloween decor. Spike smiling and partying out like a loon is definitely worth htetheprice of admission.

#7. Friends “The One w/ the Halloween Party”

“I am a woman who spent a ton of money on this dress and wants to wear it until she is too big to fit into it.”

I had actually never seen the Friends Halloween episode until this year. I definitely enjoyed it; the cast’s costumes are funny, the various Halloween antics are adorable - especially Rachel being pushed around by candy-randy kids - and the Halloween-y atmosphere is quite convivial. Though as a comic book nerd, I must point out how completely absurd Joey’s suggestion of ‘who would win, Catwoman or Supergirl’ being Catwoman. Like, seriously? A nonpowered thief vs a freaking Kryptonian? Even people who don’t read comic books should know the answer to that one! Were people in the year 2001 really that clueless? But anyway, on a more somber note, this was apparently the first one they shot after 9/11, and ended up Lisa Kudrow’s favorite, because a stranger thanked her for making them laugh. Aw!

#6. South Park “A Nightmare on Face Time”

“Oh, and Kenny? Stay gold.”

SP has a number of Halloween episodes, but my favorite has to be this one from 2014. There’s two main plotlines and they’re both Peak Halloweeny goodness. First, there’s Randy reenacting The Shining as his new Blockbuster  video goes under due to Netflix stealing business, which is absolutely hilarious. Then there’s the boys as The Avengers, hoping to win a costume contest despite Stan having to FaceTime. This part is full of trick-or-treating goodness, with each of the costumes being perfect for the kid (WE HEAR KENNY’S VOICE! ALBEIT DISTORTED!) and the comedy of how seriously everyone takes Stan’s ipod battery dying being absolutely killer. Certainly wins the prize for Funniest Halloween Ep Ever. (Also, Kyle’s thor costume. Thor would obviously look so much cooler with that hat.)

#5. Buffy “Halloween”

“It’s come as you aren’t night!”

The second of the Buffyverse Halloween entries on the list. Not just a great Halloween ep but a great Buffy ep too, this one is absolutely rolling in seasonal riches. Pumpkin patch vamp fight! Halloween decorated Bronze! Ethan Rayne turning everyone into their costumes is such a clever gimmick, and as usual with a Buffy ep they do more with it than just that. Noblewoman!Buffy, Military!Xander and Ghost! Willow are each a treat to watch as they try something new with their lives. I’m a little annoyed by the “not like other girls” sappy Bangel ending, but otherwise, this one is just golden. (My shipper heart rejoices in the Cangel Bronze Date and Buffy being awfully flirty with Willow as well, for the record). 

#4. Parks and Rec “Halloween Surprise”

“You can’t plan your future, Leslie. You just gotta let it happen.”

Parks and Rec is another one with a plethora of great Halloween eps to  choose from (something about blonde female leads I guess). This one takes the spot for being the most substantial, plot-wise, of all four, including lots of changes in the story and a great lesson at the end - though also for having the best costumes (Rosie the  riveter Leslie! Princess Diane), the best celebration (Screening of Death canoe 4 Murder at blood Lake sounds like an absolutely delightful way to spend a Halloween) and the best ending (BEN PROPOSES TO LESILE OMG). The only thing it’s missing is April, who only cameos at the start. But she gets plenty to do in the other Halloween eps, so I’ll forgive it.

#3. Frasier “Halloween”

“I’m  Waldo. From Where’s Waldo. You know, the guy you  can’t find because he blends into the crowd.” “I don’t know, but I’d love a demonstration.”

Frasier is absolute peak sitcom comedy, especially with the Farce plotline. This one is a great, sophisticated classic, with Niles throwing a Library association ball - which means everyone must dress as a character from literature. Niles is Cyrano, Martin is Holmes, Frasier and Daphne are from the Canterbury tales, and Roz is O from the Story of O. The real conflict of the ep is “Is Roz Pregnant” and everyone mistaking who’s pregnant by whom. The  climax is Niles proposing to Daphne who he thinks is the one pregnant from an imaginary fling with Frasier. It’s funny, glib, and absolutely whacky, with some extra Halloween shenanigans to keep you occupied, like Niles’ weird old-timey theme and the parade of trick-or-treaters constantly interrupting the skits demanding candy. Definitely don’t miss this one!

#2. Gravity Falls “Summerween”

“We’re getting older, there’s not that many Halloweens left!’

There’s definitely something about supernatural shows and Halloween episodes that just creates that extra level of quality. GF is a great show all around, and this little gem of a Halloween ep is one of the best of the whole series. It’s got everything: The Summerween Trickster, the trick-or-treating, the try-hard scares and the mad dash for candy. My favorite thing about it, though, would have to be the conflict between Dipper and Mabel about what to do for Halloween. They were always debating whether it were better to grow up too soon or try to stay a kid, and this one uses Halloween to illustrate that: Dipper torn between the Grown Up party and the Kid Trick-or-Treating, and the poignant way that rings true for all of us here in the US - that day when you finally realize you’re ‘too old’ for trick-or-treating - really makes this one strong. 

Hon Mentions: The other Parks and Rec episodes; Buffy All the Way; the camptastic Smallville episode “Thirst”, the How I met Your Mother Halloweens

#1. Buffy “Fear Itself”

“Don’t taunt the fear demon!” “Why, can he hurt me?” “No, it’s just tacky.”

Like I said before, no one does Halloween like Buffy does Halloween. And this one is the best of the best, of the best. Everything you could want from a Halloween ep is right here. Pumpkin carving, check. Crazy party, check. Whacky costumes, check. Spooky real scares, check. The Gang’s costumes are a parade of awesome (ANYA AS BUNNY!) and the concept of exploring each member’s Greatest Fear is an absolute winner. I love every time a TV show tries to do a Greatest Fears episode, because it’s just a concept I get a kick out of - such a great way to explore our characters’ most primal needs! - and this is b y far the best. The atmosphere, the subject matter, the costumes, and  the writing, which is seriously killer in this episode (”Prepare to have your spines tingled and your gooses bumped by the terrifying...Fantasia.” “Maybe it’s because of all the horrificthings we’ve seen, but hippos wearing tutus just don’t unnerve me the way they used to”) all make this, in my opinion the best Halloween ep of all time.

#the simpsons #treehouse of horror #Halloween #halloween episodes #spiderman #spectacular spider man #angel #friends #the one with the halloween party #south park #buffy #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #Parks and Recreation #frasier #gravity falls #summerween #top 10

[mwolf0epsilon]

If you had to go back to it, what do you think would happen after that demon summoning fic? And what happened to Daniel???

[[MORE]]

  "He's asleep, for now at least..." Simon mutters as he locks the basement door with a padlock and key. North can barely see anything inside the room through the metal slot on the reinforced door, and she doesn't think to ask why Simon had the basement level remade into something like a prison cell. She has a feeling that she doesn't want to know the answer.

 "I..." She starts, bruised face and bloodied cracked lips so painful that it hurts to speak. She's tired. She had fought for her life, knowing she couldn't win against a 9 foot tall beast that knew she had a black belt and called her name with her lover's voice. "I didn't know y-you owned a gun..."

Simon pauses, key in hand as he looks at her.

She watches him pocket the item before he shakes his head and slumps his shoulders.

 "...I didn't." Simon's eyes are sad and just as tired as her own. He holds a weight on his shoulders that tells her he's seen too much. Suffered a loss just as great as her own. The bad feeling intensifies, and she can only think of one thing to blame:

That book. He'd recognized it the moment she showed it to him.

 "What happened to you...?" She asks, knowing full well that something had gone down before she and Josh moved back. And it had to do with Daniel.

"...What can you tell me about Daniel, North?" Simon asks rather than reply, confirming her suspicions.

She doesn't answer, because she knows Simon had a brother, but she doesn't recall ever meeting him. She knows he must have been close to Simon if his death had shaken him up so much that he'd begged for their support, but honestly she doesn't know what to say.

"I...Don't think we ever met."

Simon's reaction startles her. He laughs.

He laughs an ugly broken laugh that breaks her heart even more than it already is. Turns each shard to dust.

 "...I hoped... You could remember I had a brother, but I g-guess it was wishful thinking that you'd know who he was." Simon looks so very hurt. He hugs himself tightly and shakes.

"Simon?"

 "He was my twin... We were insepperable the four of us... F-fuck I..." Simon ran a hand over his face and sobbed "I...I fucked up badly North…"

---

     The bakery had been doing poorly ever since the new supermarket had opened up on the other block. A lot of the smaller shops were losing clients and closing down, since people thought the new place was a lot more convenient.

Simon and Daniel's tiny store quickly lost sales and the two were not meeting their quota at the end of the month. Rent was becoming difficult to pay and they had been desperate.

  "If we don't find a way to turn this whole mess around, we'll end up living on the streets…" Daniel had fretted as he looked over the bills. They had piled up so much that they weren't sure where they'd get the money.

  "I talked to Mrs. Stern, but she's not one to give more than a second chance. She expects the money by next month…" Simon sighed miserably. "I'm sorry Dan...I tried…"

  "I know...I just… I'm scared Si." Daniel looked at him, concern and fear of the unknown clouding his eyes in such a way that they looked like a stormy sky. "I… I'll go talk to Connor… see if he can lend me an extra buck…"

  "You hate asking for handouts."

  "Well what choice do I have?!" Daniel grumbled "Unless you can think of something better, I'd suggest you pick up some books on how to make money real quick…"

---

  "...You took his advice seriously, didn't you?" North frowned.

Simon shakily nodded, face buried in his hands.

  "Yes…"

  "Simon...What happened?" She looked over towards the door when she heard soft shuffling inside. The monster that had been Josh had probably shifted in its sleep, just as her beloved tended to. He was a restless sleeper.

  "...I went to the library. I tried looking for business books but…" the blond shook his head "I found that fucking thing instead."

His desperation had lead to a very piss poor decision on his part. 

The promise of having his greatest desires given to him by the many spells and rituals. 

It had been so tempting.

Too tempting for him to resist.

If he could just pick the right one, do it right and get enough money to save his and Daniel's tiny little bakery…

But it had all gone so wrong!

  "I just wanted to help." Simon sobs "I never meant to be so selfish!"

He'd not done it right.

The spell he chose called for one to clear their mind and choose their one greatest want in life.

Simon had to focus on saving the bakery, but instead he'd been greedy.

The thought of how easy it would be to get anything he wanted…

The bakery had all but left his mind as he'd let himself fantasize.

What would it be like if he were more? If he were as interesting as his twin? Knew all the things Daniel had taken the time to learn in their youth?

Be the kind of guy people wanted to get to know?

He'd been a foolish selfish idiot for thinking such thoughts. And he'd paid for it, just as North had paid for mocking the book.

  "I… Its like… It's like I had absorbed Daniel in the womb." He whispers.

  "What?" North stared, uncertain if she'd heard him right.

  "The ritual… I wasn't supposed to think of anything but getting the money to save the bakery… But…" he sighed "My insecurities…"

  "You were insecure about your ability to help?" North asked.

  "No. I just… I always considered Daniel to be the stronger, better twin. I just wanted to be as good as him… instead I erased his existence and… I guess rewrote my life so that I was Daniel but not." Simon grimaced, before looking back at her. "And I know it goes beyond just… Just him being gone."

  "I… How?" North dares ask.

He doesn't reply, instead he takes her hand and puts it against his chest. She raises an eyebrow before she feels it.

A twin thumping of two separate hearts, inside a single chest cavity.

  "...Oh my god…"

  "I didn't just kill my brother. I became him, and now I have his heart to remind me that I'm a selfish monstrous fuck."

---

     Josh doesn't eat much for a large beast. Simon feeds him liver, hearts and other assorted parts he gets at a butchers. They rarely go inside the basement and, when they need to clean it, they use Daniel's tranq gun to knock him out.

North sits by the door most days. She talks to her fiancee for many hours, letting him know she still loves him and that she's sorry for getting him into this mess.

Sometimes he moans her name, the chain around his neck dragging against the floor as he tries to reach her.

She knows he'd sink his teeth into her throat if he ever got the chance.

     Simon hid the book better this time. No longer in any of the public sections of the library. It's locked in a safe in Daniel's old room, where no one else would think to look.

Whenever he's not at the library, he's reading those damned pages in search of a way to fix Josh.

So far, he's found nothing 

So North bides her time and speaks to her lover.

  "Simon can shoot guns now, and do rock climbing… His back pains are gone and he can chat up Markus now…" she recounts through the slot. She can see the glimmer of four goat-like eyes peering over at her in the dark. The rumbling growl is unsettling. "He wasn't kidding… He really did absorb his brother… He has two hearts now. Says it helps him sleep when he feels the heartbeat on the left. It's like Daniel's still here…"

  "Nooooorth…." The mournful rumble makes her pause. She shivers but carries on.

  "You remember Daniel don't you? No one else can… And I don't… Fully remember…" she confesses "But he knew a lot of stuff. Simon was jealous of him, but he loved him… He misses him a lot. Like… Like how I miss you."

The chain rattles closer, she can hear hooves and claws scraping along the floor. Her eyes prickle slightly.

  "Josh… You know I've always been shit with words. I've been an angry unpleasant person for most of my life, and somehow you never felt put off by my attitude." North laughed bitterly "Guess you got the short end of the stick here… But… What I'm trying to say is…"

She looks at the slot and her skin crawls as the muzzle tries to force itself through. A mixture of a wolf, and a Chinese lion dog, with curled fangs and a snake-like tongue that writhes and slithers in all directions. Thirsty for blood.

  "Is that… I'm sorry." She lets the slot rest against the beast's maw, shivering when the serpentine tongue catches her fingers. The saliva is hot against her skin. "I shouldn't have been a dick. I shouldn't have read out of that stupid book… I never wanted anything. I thought what we had was plenty… and if I had to ask for anything… I'd just ask to have you back."

The beast shuts its jaw sharply.

She can't hear him breathing heavily anymore.

  "... I want you back Josh. That's all I want…" she gets up, looks down at the monstrous muzzle and presses a quick kiss to that ugly squashed nose of his, and turns to leave.

  "NoRtH…?"

She stops.

  "Josh…?"

The muzzle pulls away from the slot, replaced by a clawed set of digits. On one finger Josh's ring gleams in the low light.

  "North…" his eyes peek through the slot. There are still four but they're his.

Her heart skips a beat.

#eps writes: #fanfic #detroit: become human #detroit become human #dbh north #dbh josh #dbh simon #dbh daniel

[lalcne-blog]

index: lilith nerezza

black waves. golden eyes. busy hands. love potions. dark smoke. echoing voices. isolation. rituals and sacrifice. emptiness, but not really. skull and bones. red silk.

          HER ENTIRE WORLD has been the land of the dead, the place where evil dwells, or so she’s told. the outside world would have her believe as much. those on the surface who know of magic may not fear her, but the regular humans certainly would if she revealed herself, and so she never goes up there. just as she’s told.

          it’s her nanny that tells her this. she’s sure her father would, too, if they ever spoke. but they don’t. that’s alright, because her father loves her, she knows he does, and that’s enough for her.

          the spirits who live in her kingdom ( well, not hers, per say ) tend to range from bitter to hostile to downright impossible, but she still hears stories of their time on the surface. amongst the tales of crime and tragedy are new discoveries her studies haven’t taught her, like the concept of a carnival and what a ferris wheel is, like what chocolate is and why people like it so much.

          when she asks her nanny if they can visit the surface to go to an amusement park and buy some cotton candy, she gets an exasperated sigh and a shake of her head.

          she’s only the slightest bit older when she decides that she’s the princess of hell and that means she can do what she wants. she visits the surface on a regular basis, skipping classes and mealtimes for what she sees as an experience far more educational than what she’s already receiving. she’s made it her goal to visit every type of place she’s heard about.

          she’s strolling through one of the most popular parks in the country ( or so she’s heard ) when she spots a crowd gathered around something she can’t quite see, and she pushes her way to the front of the crowd to take a closer look, almost dropping her chocolate bar on the way.

          when she’s finally able to see what the fuss is about, she stares blankly. she sees two men, both wearing white, standing in front of a beautifully decorated arch while another man speaks to them. a group of beautifully-dressed people are sitting in chairs a metre or so away. this isn’t like anything lilith has seen before.

          ❝ what’s going on ?? ❞ she asks quietly, not expecting anyone to hear her.

          ❝ a wedding !! ❞ is the soft squeal of the girl beside her, probably no older than zazzy. ❝ isn’t it romantic ?? look at how in love they are !! ❞

          lilith doesn’t respond. she slowly chews her chocolate and wonders how such a simple thing can fill her with so much warmth.

          the books on weddings in the library back home are tainted by tragedy, recounts of when such a happy occasion has resulted in the death of one or more parties involved. this isn’t what lilith is looking for. she wants to hear about the love and happiness two married people share.

          she’s eating with her father -- a rare occurrence -- when she decides to bring it up. her young mind sees nothing wrong with it.

          ❝ father, why aren’t there books on love in the library ?? ❞

          her father swishes his wine that is so red it could be blood ( it probably is ) and doesn’t look at her as he replies, ❝ there are plenty of them. love is one of the most common catalysts for tragedy. ❞

          she shakes her head. ❝ no, no, i mean stuff about the happier things about love. like weddings !! ❞

          her father finally looks at her, gaze judgemental. he sets his wineglass down. ❝ you won’t find any of that stuff here. ❞

          ❝ why not ?? ❞

          ❝ because this is hell, lilith. there is no love to be found here. ❞

          he must be tired of the short-lived conversation, and so he stands, ready to leave her to her own thoughts, but she refuses to leave it there.

          ❝ but don’t you love me ?? ❞

          her father stops in his tracks, eyes narrowed as he peers over his shoulder.

          ❝ demons can’t love. ❞

          lilith doesn’t understand. sometimes she wonders if she was never originally meant to be a demon. she doesn’t even know where she comes from, so it’s possible, right ?? maybe this isn’t her home after all.

          it’s ironic that the moment she begins acting out after this realisation is when she acts the most like a demon. she refuses to show up to her tutoring sessions and doesn’t eat with her father anymore. her powers are growing stronger by the day and she takes to experimenting with them elsewhere in the underworld, away from the main castle so she’s safe from prying eyes.

          ❝ you’re going to end up like azazel, ❞ her father says to her when she passes him in the corridor.

          ❝ good, ❞ she says with a saccharine smile.

          despite how she’s acting, she’s still emotional at heart, and she spends nights after nightmares crying into her knees.

          they always have fire. no matter what, she always feels as though she’s burning during and after the dream, like she’s being surrounded by flames with no escape. someone is crying and screaming about their child, but she doesn’t recognise the voice, and she’s never able to say anything before all she sees is black.

          when she’s old enough, she begins leaving the underworld after she has her nightmares to clear her head, and she’s twelve when she meets two people who turn her thinking on its head.

          the first person she meets is crying on a park bench beneath a streetlight. no one else is around at this time of night, as beings such as lilith herself are lurking and people seem to be afraid of them, but this girl doesn’t seem to be bothered by that.

          her fries in hand, she walks over to the girl, very aware that she looks as though she should be safely tucked into bed cuddling a teddy-bear. mouth semi-full, she says, ❝ why are you crying ?? ❞

          to her credit, the girl doesn’t question why a twelve year old munching on soggy fries is wandering around and suddenly talking to her. ❝ i... i shouldn’t... oh, whatever, i need to vent, anyway. my boyfriend wants to break up with me after four years, i’m sure of it !! i know it probably seems stupid, but... i just love him. ❞

          lilith can’t say she relates, but she can try, and she waits until she’s swallowed her food before speaking. ❝ well... do you know for sure ?? did he actually tell you that he wants to break up ?? ❞

          ❝ well, no... but it was just so obvious. he was going on about how he has to move and really stressing how far the distance is going to be, and he just looked so sad, i’m... i’m sure he’s working up to it. ❞

          the girl begins crying once again and lilith raises her hand to pat her back, only to think better of it. some of her powers are still in development, and she doesn’t want to accidentally activate them while trying to console a human. she’ll have to do something else to help.

          an idea forms in her mind and, probably more excited than she should be, says, ❝ what’s his name ?? ❞

          the girl stares at her for a moment, confused, before saying, ❝ jonah. why ?? ❞

          with what she hopes is a reassuring smile, lilith says, ❝ just wait here !! i’ll be back !! ❞ and runs off.

          once she’s out of sight, she closes her eyes and focuses. she scans the area for any other signs of life, or rather, for another person’s soul. unable to find anything, she forces herself to spread her range outwards, and she can feel her knees begin to buckle, so she leans on a nearby tree.

          it’s worth it, though. her mind discovers the presence of another person further away, and when she concentrates in order to confirm the person’s identity, it is indeed someone named jonah. refusing to break the connection, she begins running in his direction.

          she almost bumps into him, and she stumbles back before he can fall on top of her. she’s panting from the long run, hands on her knees, but there’s a small smile on her face.

          ❝ are you jonah ?? ❞ she asks breathlessly.

          the boy’s eyes widen. ❝ uh, yeah, why ?? ❞

          rather than answering like a normal human should -- not that lilith is such a thing -- she takes him by the hand and begins running in the girl’s direction. she doesn’t feel any resistance, though she doesn’t know whether that’s because jonah trusts her or because he’s too stunned to fight her. besides, he probably thinks he can take her if she does something to him.

          ❝ you’re looking for your girlfriend, right ?? come with me !! ❞

          that kicks him into high gear. she drops his hand as she doesn’t need to drag him anymore, and the two run side-by-side until they reach the bench the girl was at before. she’s still there when they return.

          ❝ natalie !! ❞ jonah calls when he sees her, and he head snaps up.

          ❝ jonah ?? what -- ❞ she stands up abruptly as he runs over to wrap her in a hug that she returns after a few seconds of stunned silence.

          ❝ i was so worried. ❞ his voice is muffled by her shoulder, but lilith’s senses are far greater than a human’s. she can listen in on the conversation while seeming as though she’s giving them space. ❝ it’s the middle of the night, please don’t run like that again, i thought i was gonna have a heart attack. ❞

          natalie closes her eyes. ❝ i’m sorry, i -- i thought you were going to break up with me. ❞

          ❝ what ?? ❞ jonah breaks the hug to look at her, his hands reaching up to touch her cheeks. ❝ why would i ever do that ?? ❞

          ❝ you just... you’re moving and you kept mentioning how big the distance is and -- i thought -- i thought you were leading up to it, ❞ natalie manages to stutter out, and lilith can hear the tears in her voice.

          despite the situation, jonah laughs, hugging her again. ❝ i only mentioned it because i’m going to really miss you. but i’m coming back. i’ll always come back. ❞

          it’s then that lilith comes to a realisation. perhaps she can’t love like these two humans do. perhaps it’s impossible for her. but if she can make other people happy like this in some way, demon or not, then she’ll be content.

          her father doesn’t want her to attend lucille academy. he can already sense that her values are changing from his and knows that her leaving will only ❛ pollute ❜ her mind more. her mind has been made from even before she received her admission letter, however, and there is nothing that will stop her from going.

          he watches her pack with clenched fists, as though he’s stopping himself from doing something he’ll regret ( but that’s a laugh, because he never regrets anything he does, no matter how evil ). she doesn’t acknowledge him as he stands in her doorway. if he wants to give her the silent treatment, he can. she’s been doing it to him for years.

          she zips her final suitcase and looks her father in the eyes as she clicks her fingers, disappearing in a cloud of black smoke.

          love potions are difficult. love spells are even harder. they aren’t what her people are used to. they’re inherently evil, full of hatred and bloodshed that has no place in the world of love. what she’s doing should be left to the cherubs and their arrows, but this is what she wants to do, this is what she feels her calling is.

          if only she could do it right.

          she doesn’t test her potions on herself. she doesn’t believe they’ll have the proper effect, as she can’t feel love. instead, she pays people to be her guinea pigs, but they’re harder to come by now. everyone is aware of who she is and how much she fails at the one thing she wants to create more than anything else in the world.

          she has her other abilities, of course. as a demon, she possesses many powers, all more frightening than the last, and she likes to think she’s good at using them. but if she’s good at all of these things, why can’t she do the one things she absolutely wants to do ??

          she screeches, flopping back onto her bed and kicking her legs like an impudent child.

          it’s the beginning of summer, and she walks down the street with an ice cream in her hand. it’s a bustling saturday in the normal world, a place she likes to frequent when she needs a sense of anonymity, and she always has loved seeing how the humans work. she wonders what it would be like to live such an ignorant life.

          she’s passing by a beautiful community-run garden when she’s forced to stop at the sight of something happening in the very centre. it’s a familiar sight, a woman dressed in white and a man dressed in black. she’s seen various versions of weddings over the years, some with two grooms, some with two brides, some like the one in front of her.

          she’s about to mentally wish them all the best when she stops. the happy couple kiss after being pronounced husband and wife and turn around, revealing their faces. lilith can’t help but smile.

          jonah and natalie haven’t changed much in the four years since she helped them. perhaps jonah is more built and natalie’s face is more angular, but they are still unmistakably them, and lilith watches as they run down aisle to the cheers of their friends and family.

          natalie stops at the end of the aisle, laughing at something jonah is saying when she spots lilith, doing a double take. it seems they’re not the only recognisable people here. she lightly wacks jonah’s arm and inclines her head towards lilith, who smiles and waves before giving them a thumb’s up.

          the happy couple grins, and when jonah mouths ❛ thank you ❜ before the two of them duck into their shiny black car, lilith thinks she might stand a chance after all.

#「♔」lilith nerezza #「♔」lilith nerezza | isms #「♔」lilith nerezza | para #「♔」worldbuilding #sorta #「♔」para #tHIS IS SO LONG