garden of eden before the fall

Okay, a bit more on the violent, semi-pessimistic, more stereotypically Orcish side of things. Possible triggers. Graphic. R-word.

A bit of backstory to this little hypothesis: Humans figured out our differences somehow. Terrorism peaked, religions crumbled, and we had one REEEAAALLY big bad bloody war. Lots of people died. Man’s inhumanity to man. Rape, humiliation, genocide, slaughter of innocents, Armageddon, Ragnarök. That sort of thing. We vowed through accords and treaties, even in the colonization of other worlds and systems (and any conflicts that may result from such) we would seek to end things peacefully, because everyone’s just so tired. They don’t want to spill blood anymore. They vow to protect their societies and their children from such horrors ever again, and never visit such a low point ever again for the sake of humanity. Call it the Blooding Years. Makes the World Wars, Holocaust and the Crusades look tame.

Jump forward a few hundred or good thousand years.

Race really isnt a thing anymore, save for a few varied vestigal traits here and there. People are still spiritual and have faiths and superstitions, and we have made our peace with nature and spirituality, but organized religion itself is something mostly relegated to our bloody past. Although we put the Blooding Years behind us, something so profound is sure to leave some marring and scars on the general psyche of a people, even generations down the line. We are as peaceful as we can be, despite gallows humor and general mental maladjustment taking a spike in recent generations. So, in short, we’re just a bunch of vaguely beige space monkeys with twitchy temperaments trying to be peaceful and stuff.

We have spread to a few systems outside Sol. We’ve contacted a handful of species out in the stars. Xenophobia was a thing, but we’re getting over it. We have a few ‘hybrid’ systems where we coexist, a la [insert sci-fi title here] style. Aliens are learning to like us for our resilency and hard work, but having learned from our history (which was liberally gifted to those among them that would read it), they give us a wide berth, despite keeping steady trade and peaceful relations.

And then, as the old saying goes, shit happens.

A bunch of genocidal xenophobic maniacs come out of nowhere and decide “WE OWN THIS SHIT, AND YOU ARE AN AFFRONT TO GARGASCHMARGAL THE BLOODY! YOU MUST BE [insert evil villain endgame here] !!!” and essentially try to out-Space-Orc the Space Orcs. The Galactic Union, or whatever the assembly of alien races view themselves as (and with which we are allied with but decide not to unify with) launch an offensive! They fight! They clash! In the words of Willem Dafoe, “THERE WAS A FIRE FIGHT!”

Annnnd they lose. Horribly. Entire fleets are laid waste. Worlds fall. Star systems crumble. Trillions die.

And then, after their bloody campaign, having beaten back even the forces bolstered by humans, and after enslaving or euthanizing any other people that stood before them, they arrived at the doorstep to human space, and after a gorefest, essentially Hiroshima a garden world. Eden-in-the-Wind.

-cue the seriousness-

Word got back to Earth, Inner, and Outer Colonies. Eden-in-the-Wind is gone. Dust. Vids came back from the now-dead world. Women and children executed. People being eaten as they are simultaneously being used for sexual pleasure. An infant used as a soccer ball. Skulls with still-bleeding vertebra dangling from belts.

Mayhem bore its crown. The wolf stirred. And Hell reigned.

Those allied aliens that remained and sought refuge on human worlds watched in horror as formal governments dissolved, treaties were burnt, and every human down to the last howled into the winds. We embraced the ways of old. We broke hockey sticks for impromptu spears. We cannibalized vehicles for their precious metal, so that they could have blades to drink blood with. We melted down memorials, so that we could have bullets to slay foes with. We renamed our ships, which served as names of peace and progress and remembrance. They now beared the names of hatred, and death, and destruction; Sathanna, Gehena, Lucifer, Ragnarök, Deluge, Armageddon, Uziel, Uoke, Shiva.

What once was an organized military force was now a hodge-podge fleet of battleships, cargo ships, carriers, dreadnoughts, and even civilian transports. Children carried rifles. Mothers carried swords. Fathers carried axes. Brothers and sisters exchanged spears and pistols. Bitter neighbors mended fences in the name of vengeance. The wheel turned once more, and the wolf within no longer stirred, but ruthlessly hunted, awoken by the stench of blood and gore.

The ships more or less crash, stead of land. We find whatever worlds these bugs have taken, and fall upon it as a horde of foaming teeth.

Allied aliens deemed it appropriate to seek revenge alongside, but were appaled by the horror that humanity was so easy and ready to visit upon these foes. They partook in adrenaline shots and metabolized psilocybin. They drunk of alcohol distilled from the blood of these genocidal demons. They detonated bombs that had still-screaming enemies piled atop them beforehand. They sent crates full of heads back to hostile commanders. They glassed entire worlds from orbit. They beat these foes back to their homeworld, having ruthlessly dogged them to the edge of oblivion.

Eventually, there were no new bodies to crumple. Eventually, there was no fresh blood to spill. Eventually, all that was left of this enemy that had scourged this corner of the galaxy for 75 years was a whimpering, bloodied remnant of their hierarchy, and a dwindling few thousand left to their populace.

Their god-king laid beaten and bloody upon the crumbled remains of his golden throne. He asks to but a girl, no more than 14, that approaches him, sadistically grinning in the dim light of the royal chamber.

“Why? Why have you come here? Is your bloodlust not sated!? We conceded five of your cycles ago! We know what you are capable of! We fear you! Why?! Why do you still come?!”

The girl stops, close enough to smell the copper tang of the alien’s blood on its breath.

“Sic semper tyrannis,” she blurted out, in a dead tongue that the alien did not understand. She drew the knife in her belt and beheaded him, his gurgling screams resounding through the chamber.

She left through the front doors of the palace, the bronze sunset glinted off the golden palace buttresses and arches. She still clutched the god-king’s dripping head by his antennae, her purple-stained hand white-knuckled in victorious fury. A small congregation of aliens bowed and knelt before them, raising claws and feelers in terrified begs and prayers. She tossed the head down the steps, and watched it bump and roll the length down, halting with a wet thump at the base.

And as the congregation shuddered and yelped, completely catatonic at the realization that their god-king is dead, they turned their gaze to the humans, boarding their dropship, ascending into the clouds. They never returned.

Humanity drew back its severely-pruned numbers. They retreated to Earth, to serve a self-imposed penance. The remaining allied aliens, now repopulating their numbers, were gifted the colonies that humanity had once taken. They wondered why humanity was retreating to Earth.

Shexan, a member of the founding race of the Galactic Union, confronted his human friend, Jonathan, though keeping a healthy distance after what he had witnessed.

“Why do your people leave, Smith-Jonathan? You have won, why do your people not rule?” it inquired.

“We did not want to win. Because we knew what we needed to do to win. And we did not want to return to that.”

“To what, Smith-Jonathan?”

“To what we learned not to be.”


“The lessons of the past will be repeated until they are learned.”

Jonathan turned from his new friend, tears streaming down his ragged face, as he departed into the darkness of the transport, its heavy bulkhead doors clunking shut behind him. The transport lifted into the stars. In all the years since that Shexan lived on TRAPPIST-1-b, he did not see a single human return.

The Sol system was, at the behest of humanity itself, marked as an uninhabitable system, and was restricted from entry. And, so has it remained, since.

Submitted by: @bartwelchii 


There is a swallowing
Coming from the garden.
I don’t know where my brother is
But I think he went there.
I think he heard it too.
In my dreams I went there,
To the garden,
To the swallowing.
My mother sinks her teeth
Into a purpled plum
And her mouth comes away RED.


She bites into it anyway.
And suddenly I am all hands
All teeth
Sore lips
Dry mouth
A prayer dropped in my lap
Like a baby
Or a disappointment.
I am both.


He is not an angel.
They loved him holy.
They loved him divine.
They loved me earthly
Like the dirt they told me to work
But I did not mind.
There is peace in the fields.
I was made for it.
My feet are sproutlings,
Hands like sage.
Conquering thing-
Golden boy-
The day before it happens
You call me a lamb
While your hands still glisten
From your SACRIFICE.
I wonder, did your slaughter
Feel this filthy?
They called him angel,
But I have known angels.
Baring Eden with flaming swords
And burning eyes.
They would have ripped
My heart out
Without a second thought.


Why am I the one to toil?
To work?
To live bloodless, to be clean,
And somehow you are the martyr now?
Oh the swallowing
My brother followed the sound
Like a fawnling.
Not me.
This was my mistake.


I am always the villain.
The monster,
But did anyone ever ask
If my brother had done me
Violence first?
Remember that I brought fruit for sacrifice.
He was the first to taste the slaughter.

                  In my dreams
                  He still licks

From the moon.


My fall began far before you marked me.
Am I not my father’s son?
Am I not tragedy in conception?


Freedom. Softer hands. A mouth that is not a mouth, but a river- an opening. Something holier than myself. Something holy. Shoes that fit my feet. Feet that do not wander, but dance. Fruit bright and unspoilt. A better dream. A garden garden garden. Eden, but filthier. The world, but more like me. A life- an afterthought. A heart that does not beat in the space that another should. A heartbeat that was ever mine to begin with.


Listen, we both know my name was never
In your books to begin with.
This isn’t slander.
It’s the truth.
You have always had a favorite son.

How longs have I wandered,
And yet,
                        I only ever found humanity
                        In myself.
Thank you.
                        God is not kind.
                        So I take this
                        As a complement.

He made me kill my brother for a story arc.

The Queen

Hi! So this is my first fan fiction! It’s between Negan and reader! 

Some things to note before reading:
It may take a while to get to the smut, but when it does, it’s going to be rough, dirty, and have a massive daddy kink, because its JDM and how could you not?
Glen did not die in this AU (BC HE IS TOO PRECIOUS)
And anything else worth noting I’ll mention as I go!

Chapter one

Originally posted by wildling-heart

 It was like falling asleep in the Garden of Eden and waking up in Hell. 

  As you made your rounds around the camp last night, you couldn’t help but smile at the beauty. Small, hand built huts lined the trees. Staying above ground was how you tribe had made it this far. Candles flickered in through the cracks of their foundations. It wasn’t perfect, but for more than a year, it had been home to a dozen people you had met since this whole shit show started. You owned a greenhouse before the virus struck, and used those skills in your community. Three of the suspended huts were green houses, and while you would occasionally send out two or three people to hunt small game, your community was quite self sustaining.

  Your name was widely known through out the apocalyptic world. You were a kind leader to your tribe, and always welcoming to new people. Your strategic, quick thinking allowed you to not only survive, but thrive. However, your enemies knew you under an entirely different light. To them, you were an insane, sneaky, and evil force to be reckoned with. Most of them chose to stand clear. However, Negan wasn’t like the most.

  Over a year ago, your tribe, at the time consisting of over twenty people, crossed roads with his entourage. Demanding an immediate surrender, you obviously fought back. Without warning three of your people were shot from behind. The man you always had trailing the group, Gabriel, sniped all three before your people even hit the ground. Five more of your people were then attacked, however, you all quickly gathered yourselves, and of his thirty some people, you had taken down twelve. Negan called for a retreat, but Gabriel rounded from a distance and cut him off. They were then gunned down, and we had them in a circle. 

 You walked through the thin wall the remaining people of your tribe had formed around the group of roughly fifteen. You could see Negan’s slight discomfort, he wasn’t used to being on his knees like this, but he wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction of thinking you were winning this.

  “Negan,” you grinned, “I liked this shirt,” you shook your head, acknowledging that you were now covered in blood, “And then you went a fucked it up. You and all these little shit heads.”

  “I’d offer you mine, but I feel like the moment we start taking off our clothes we’ll forget what’s really going on here,” he winked at you, you felt yourself blush. Douche bag or not, he was devilishly handsome, and it’s not like you were a saint.

  “You’re misreading my generosity,” you replied, a flirtacious smile dripped from your lips as you sternly responded, you looked over at the pile of weapons your people had removed from them, and there she was. Very top of the pile. You licked your lips and winked at him, “Is that her?” I nodded at the bat, “The real legend?”

  “Don’t go playing with things that aren’t yours,” Negan warned.

  You ignored him, and walked over to the pile. Delicately picking up the bat, dripping with the blood of god knows who. You smiled and returned to the circle, squatting inches away from him, you could hear the guns cocking behind you, you couldn’t be safer.  “Now,” you leaned on the bat, Negan’s frustration growing as he let out a low snarl, “How cute would it be, if I finished the whole dance with your special little lady?”

  “If you think this is over once you leave me behind dollface, you couldn’t be more wrong,” he growled.

  “Easy daddy,” you clicked your teeth, you watched his Adam’s apple bob in confusion, he was torn between wanting to fuck you, and wanting to murder you, a line you loved to dance on, “Who said anything about letting you go?”

  “Everyone knows about the lamb,” his low voice responded, “You, being the lamb. You go about, killing and stomping and throwing your little bitch fit, but you also know how to keep your people safe. You wouldn’t do anything to put them at risk. And, I know you’re smart. You know I have more than a hundred people at my camp. It would only be a matter of time before they sniffed out the rose gardener. These people mean nothing to me, but I mean everything to them. And you know that.”

  You giggled, “You think I give a shit about your little gang? We can handle ourselves. However, you are right about one thing. I’m getting a bit of a reputation. The last thing I want is for people to think I’m going soft. How the fuck am I supposed to build an empire with that type of name following me around. And since you’ve basically given me permission,” you stood, pointing the bat at five people you watched take shots at you and, take down two people, “Gabriel, line them up for me, wont you? It’s been a while since I’ve played ball.”

  “You put that fucking bat down.” Negan demanded, his tone a bit more stern that you would have preferred.

  “I went to school, before this whole thing,” you sighed, leaning on the bat as the five people were being arranged, “I was an anthropology major, but I took a course in psychology, specifically the psychology of psychopaths. Psychopaths like you, Negan. Madmen have always kind of turned me on, so I wanted to know more about them. The most interesting thing I learned, was how some had these priorities that were just,” you let out a loud laugh, “well, psychotic. Listen, daddy,” you smiled at Negan again, “I’m about to fucking murder five of your little babies. Here they are, all lined up. I can’t guarantee it’ll be painless, or quick, or how I want to even go about it. And you’re over there shitting your pants over this?” you bounced Lucille up from the ground and suggestively ran your hand down the handle, “You’re a fucking psycho.”

  You shot four of them, quick and easy. Despite the speech, you liked to avoid inflicting pain where you could. The fifth one was one you watched shoot two of your people, so for him you used Lucille. Negan watching with an expression you’d never seen before.

  “Still got the swing,” you giggled, “I used to play, years ago. Boys, tie them up and knock em cold. Whatever happens after that is their own damn fault for being so damn easy,” Negan’s hands were bound behind him, his salt and pepper hair in his face as he watched your every move.

  “This isn’t over,” he snarled, god, you were so turned on by him.  “Well, I sure as hell hope not,” you smile, blowing him a kiss and tossing Lucille onto the ground near him, “Thanks for playing.”

Back to present 
The smell of smoke burned your nose. You sat cross legged in the same spot you had come to in. You knew they were still here. You fought tears as you took in the total destruction, refusing to give them the satisfaction.

  “Not a sound?” a voice laughed from the trees, you could hear guns point at you, “You really are a fucking heartless little bitch.”

  The voice came around, along with six other men, all armed.  You let out a small laugh, “Seven armed men, just for me?” you stood, spinning around ensuring that was it, you took a step towards the one doing the talking and their guns all shot up, pointing right at you. You smiled and put your hands up in a mocking way, “Easy boys. Just wanted to check who these flowers are from, but I’m gonna guess that I already know the answer.”

  "You’re fucking crazy,“ one of the men, much younger sounding, expressed.  You smiled and stuck out your hand, "Nice to meet you.”

  "Ben, grab her,“ the ‘leader’ commanded, a big man approached you. Right as he grabbed you you pulled your dagger out of your Jean’s side pocket and dug it into his neck, his blood coating you before he collapsed. Two other men stormed you, you took down one and brutally sliced the face of the second one, but he managed to punch you in the face and knock the dagger out of your hand.

  "Come on boys,” you dabbed your nose with your finger, blood pouring from it, “I was unconscious and you didn’t think to pat me down? Didn’t wanna touch any of this?”

  Suddenly it was dark. 

  When you came to, you were in a small cement room. Your arms were handcuffed so tightly that thin droplets of blood ran down your hand. Your legs were tied together by what looked like a T-shirt, you effortlessly shimmied the ties off.  Suddenly, the door opened. Blocking most of the light was a man’s figure, you didn’t need to guess who’s.

Chapter two will probably be out either tonight or tomorrow!


We have seen how Azrael’s dagger made ordinary humans into murderers with a bit of amnesia. We then learnt the dagger used to be the Flaming Sword that guarded the garden of Eden and that God destroyed it after the rebellion. 

When God Johnson picked up another piece of the sword, something in him changed. He had memories he shouldn’t have of God’s celestial family and healing abilities. Amenadiel thinks the healing powers lead Johnson to assume he was indeed God, but what it the Medallion of Life in fact not only contained the power to heal but also part of Dad’s memories? It would explain how all memories Johnson had were of happier times, before Lucifer’s fall. It also explains how God’s memories and powers were all gone when the belt-buckle was taken from him. 

Grow (Yoongi x Reader)

He’s rude, like his feral plants.

More magical BTS here

fluff, 4.2k words, yoongi/reader, fantasy au

“_______?” There’s a tap on your shoulder.

Drowsily, you blink your eyes open. “Hmm?” you mumble, still half-asleep.

“Did you get that? We were going over our new roles and you’re in charge of getting the vegetarian feed now,” the student head, Jongin, says.

Eyes still barely open, you nod sleepily. “Oh, yeah, okay,” you say, not entirely processing the information. Your leg has fallen asleep; you wince.

“Well, okay, then,” Jongin replies, sounding unsure. “I guess everything’s finalized. I’m going to turn the papers into the coordinating teacher now.”

It’s only when the door is firmly shut behind the student head do you truly awaken, mind whirling.

Keep reading

In the Garden of Eden

Before the fruit,
there was beauty.

Asleep, but walking
the garden, hazy.

Animal in needs and

At peace, calm and

But the fruit of
knowing brings

discontent in juices
so sweet they bring tears.

Tears that fall on fingers
slick with guilt. Tears

of loss. Ignorance
is animal time,

is bliss. But I would
prefer to have

my mind.

– S. E. De Haven (SnuffyArt)

What did you think?

The closest I’ve ever been to the Garden of Eden is the genesis on the battlefield when the shrapnel’s still falling like hail on a tin roof. You look at me with those blue eyes all hot and electric in your face, blood on your cheek, soot smudged over your nose. Bone of my bones. Were you taken from my rib? You must have been, or maybe I was made from yours. And God damn, I want it. I want back inside you. I want you now, same as I wanted you before, prettier than hell even with a bloodied nose and split knuckles. Don’t care you were smaller. Liked it, even — same as I like you this way too. You make me hungry. You understand? You make me hungry. That mouth pink like spun sugar, though it doesn’t stop you from talking fit to cut anyone down to bits with your angry words. A spitfire since you learned how to speak, and I’ll tell you something, it’s hell to love a fighter.
—  “The Thirteen Letters,” drop-deaddream and whatarefears

“The closest I’ve ever been to the Garden of Eden is the genesis on the battlefield when the shrapnel’s still falling like hail on a tin roof. You look at me with those blue eyes all hot and electric in your face, blood on your cheek, soot smudged over your nose. Bone of my bones. Were you taken from my rib? You must have been, or maybe I was made from yours. And God damn, I want it. I want back inside you. I want you now, same as I wanted you before, prettier than hell even with a bloodied nose and split knuckles. Don’t care you were smaller. Liked it, even — same as I like you this way too. You make me hungry. You understand? You make me hungry. That mouth pink like spun sugar, though it doesn’t stop you from talking fit to cut anyone down to bits with your angry words. A spitfire since you learned how to speak, and I’ll tell you something, it’s hell to love a fighter.”


Seraphim (”These are the angels who are closest to God. They encircle his throne and emit an intense fiery light representing his love. Seraphim are considered “fiery serpents” and not even the other divine beings may look at them. There are only four of them and each has four faces and six wings. When they come to Earth, they leave their serpent appearance behind, preferring tall, thin, clean-cut human embodiments.”

The fire signs;




Cherubim (”These angels are the keepers of celestial records and hold the knowledge of God. They are sent to Earth with great tasks, such as expelling humankind from the Garden of Eden. Ancient art depicts cherubim as sphinx-like, winged creatures with human faces, not the fat babies with wings that now grace greeting cards and book covers. Ophaniel, Rikbiel, and Zophiel are cherubim, as was Satan before his fall to evil.”)

The air signs;




Thrones (”Thrones’ appearance is perhaps the most bizarre of the first grouping. They are said to look like great glowing wheels covered with many eyes. They serve as God’s chariot and dispense his judgment in order to carry out his desires for us. The angels in the second choir can exist in a state of transition between the celestial and human worlds. They are considered heavenly governors, attempting to strike a balance between matter and spirit, good and bad.”)

The water signs;




Dominions (”Think of dominions as middle management. They receive orders from seraphim and cherubim, then dish out duties to the “worker bee” angels of the lower orders. Their main purpose is to make sure that the cosmos remains in order by sending down power to heads of government and other authority figures. Zadkiel (sometimes called Hashmal) is the chief of this order.”)

The earth signs;




Virtues (”Shaped like sparks of light, virtues are in charge of maintaining the natural world, and they inspire living things in areas such as science. They also take orders from the angels above and convert them into miracles for the deserving. When they make themselves known to us in their earthly form, they are musicians, artists, healers, and scientists who work with the power of love, as well as physics. The two angels at the ascension of Jesus are believed to have been virtues.”)

The air signs;




Powers (”In their celestial form, powers appear like brightly colored, hazy fumes. Powers are border patrol agents between heaven and Earth. They are the angels of birth and death. Some believe that they also preside over demons who wish to overthrow the world, while others, namely St. Paul, thought the powers themselves were the evil ones. In any case, powers are a group of experts who serve as advisers in terms of religion, theology, and ideology.”)

The fire signs;




Principalities (”These angelic beings are shaped like rays of light. Just like a principal in school, it’s the principalities who oversee everything. They guide our entire world – nations, cities, and towns. What’s more, they are in charge of religion and politics. As if their plate isn’t full enough, they are also in charge of managing the earthly duties of the angels below them.”)

The earth signs;




Archangels (”They, along with the angels, are guardians of people and all things physical. But don’t call on them to help you personally; archangels respond best when dealing with matters involving all humankind. They are the first order of angels that appear only in human form. As such, they function among us as pioneers for change in the form of explorers, philosophers, and human rights leaders. This order is most commonly known because they are mentioned by name in the Bible – Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael.”)

The air signs;




Guardian Angels (”Guardian angels are the angels who spend the most amount of time caring for human beings. They watch over people during people’s entire lives on Earth, and their primary job is to protect people from spiritual and (sometimes) physical danger, according to God’s will. But guardian angels also pray for people, guide people, and record people’s deeds. Many people believe that children are especially close to guardian angels.”)

The water signs;




Demon King Age & Bible Babble FYE

Lucifer may be the strongest Demon King but he’s not the oldest.

I’ve been thinking about this for a while and I came up with the theory that a Demon King’s power is not corresponding with their age. If you want to know why, you better buckle up and get your crucifixes ready because I’m going to talk Christianity here!

Light and Time

Maybe it’s just me but I found the fact that the King of Light is supposed to be stronger than the King of Time a little weird. The element of time and space seems more omnipotent to me than the element of light, which is just kind of there.

And this is when it hit me: It’s the order in which the elements were created in the Bible!

See, creating heavens and earth in complete darkness was manageable but for the fine tuning God kinda needed to see what the fuck he was doing. Boom! Let there be light! And he separated it from darkness and thus day and night were created. Wait, day and night? Yup, this is the point at which time was created. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be able to talk about “days“ of creation, now would we?

There! So Lucifer is older and stronger than Samael because the latter’s domain literally wouldn’t exist without the former’s.

The Elements of Creation

WARNING: From here on things will start to get crazy.

Now, let’s go back a step. In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Not earth as in soil. More like, in the beginning there were the heavens and water. It wasn’t ocean because he didn’t call it that yet but yes, God created water before he created light and time. How crazy is that?

The order we have now is: water, light, time. And all of this in only one day! He never was this productive ever again tho.

The second day was one of those days. God didn’t get all the shit done he intended to, in fact he only managed to create the sky/air. But that’s okay.

Now, on the third day, due to existence of the air, the water started moving and gathered in certain places while leaving others dry. And God was like “yeah, let’s go with that” and he called the dry parts earth. Thus, earth was created, I guess.

Wow, try telling that to your kid! “We planned to have your brothers. You just kind of happened.“

Anyway, He created weed for everyone! And big-ass trees. “Yup, you are adopted in a way but because I added trees you are now my legitimate son. No buts!” So that’s what happened and then the day was already over.

On the fourth day, God decided not to create anything all new but instead iterate over what he already had. I swear, he’s one lazy fuck. He created stars, sun and moon and, depending on those, days and years.

Again, we have the element of time depending on the element of light. It’s like he wanted to say it twice so everyone gets it.

The rest of Genesis I and II is God creating animals of the sea and sky literally whales and birds IFS!!! (5th day), animals of the earth cattle, worms and sheep and stuff and humans (6th day) and wrapping things up - also blessing the seventh day because that’s when he didn’t have to do shit. #relatable

So, at the end of the week we have six of the eight Demon Kings’ domains created. In order: water, light, time, air, earth and insects (or worms anyway…).

The Elements of Man

Now, this is a little tricky. The creation is followed by the Fall of Man, in which God banishes humans from the Garden of Eden.

For one thing, he bestows mortality upon them. Before that, humans were immortal and also vegans. I will just assume that nothing died before this point, as all living things were meant to populate the world. So I’m taking it as the point of birth for the element of decay.

Further, God posted angels at the gates of the Garden of Eden with flaming swords to prevent the humans from entering it ever again. HA! This is the first explicit mentioning of fire in the Bible and it has to be flaming swords! AnE is so legit!

Now, the thing is, God’s last words to Adam are along the lines of “You shall work your ass off and eat bread until you die and rot.“ So, what came first, mortality or the oven? I’d like to take a moment to imagine Adam getting kicked out of paradise and being cursed with death and all he has to say is “What the hell is “bread”?“

In short, I am not sure which one was first. My guess is that decay came before fire.


According to my theory concerning the order of creation, Gehenna’s royal family in order of age (but not in order of power) is as follows:

Egyn, Lucifer, Samael, Azazel, Amaimon, Beelzebub, Astaroth and Iblis

The closest I’ve ever been to the Garden of Eden is the genesis on the battlefield when the shrapnel’s still falling like hail on a tin roof. You look at me with those blue eyes all hot and electric in your face, blood on your cheek, soot smudged over your nose. Bone of my bones. Were you taken from my rib? You must have been, or maybe I was made from yours. And God damn, I want it. I want back inside you. I want you now, same as I wanted you before, prettier than hell even with a bloodied nose and split knuckles. Don’t care you were smaller. Liked it, even — same as I like you this way too. You make me hungry. You understand? You make me hungry. That mouth pink like spun sugar, though it doesn’t stop you from talking fit to cut anyone down to bits with your angry words. A spitfire since you learned how to speak, and I’ll tell you something, it’s hell to love a fighter.

The Thirteen Letters

by dropdeaddream and WhatAreFears

“Dean!” You called out to your brother who was walking ahead of you. “Dean, I’m trying to talk to you!” To no avail he kept his head forward and got out his keys to the Impala.

“Y/N, I’m sure he has his reasons for doing what he did. Just let it go.” Sam said making you stop to look at him.

“No, I won’t just let it go Sammy.” You replied furrowing your eyebrows and shaking your head. You sped up to catch Dean before he got in the car. Grabbing the back of his arm, you pulled making him turn around.

“Didn’t you hear me? I was calling you!”

“Yea, I heard you.” He replied rolling his eyes.

“Then, what the hell?! I had that vampire Dean, you didn’t need to kill it for me”, you yelled at him.

“Just get in the car Y/N.” He opened the back door annoyed.

“No Dean,” you slammed it shut, “Not just today, but for a long time you’ve always taken over my hunts. It’s friggin’ annoying! Dad taught me all the same crap he taught you both and goddammit if I can’t use my knowledge and ideas around you guys I’ll just start hunting on my own.” He stared at you not saying a word, although his eyes were saying everything. You opened the door to get in, but this time he slammed it.

“And what exactly are you going to do when something like this happens again, huh?! When a vampire grabs you from behind and you actually don’t have it under control? Me and Sam won’t be there to help save you. So maybe instead of bitchin’ at me, you just say thanks and that’s it… Now, get in the car.” You both stood there glaring at each other before Sam cleared his throat getting the attention of you and Dean.

“We gotta go before someone shows up.” He got in the car and adjusted himself when he sat down.

“Just lay off Dean, I always have reasons for doing what I do. You know exactly what dad would say if he knew you were doing this, right?”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” He asked sarcastically sticking his head out to hear you.

“You three are always going to have different strategies”, as soon as he heard these words his face softened, “But none of them will work unless you all work together.” Dean’s eyes shot to the ground as he thought about what your dad had told you all. You playfully punched his shoulder and got in the back seat. He stood outside for a little while longer before joining you and Sam in the car. In no time you guys were on the road again driving to the next hunt. You had fallen asleep with your headphones in while your brothers stayed awake.

“She’s just like dad, huh?” Sam asked finally breaking the silence.

“So much, it’s scary.” Dean replied keeping his eyes on the road.

Sam let out a small laugh nodding before positioning his head on the window and falling asleep. Dean moved the rear-view mirror to look at you; his little sister. You were 24, but in his eyes you were always going to be the little girl he protected from everything. He always knew you were best at what you did, but he’d never forgive himself and he knew your guys’ dad wouldn’t either, if something happened to you. He turned on the radio to hear anything, but silence

And she’ll promise you more than the Garden of Eden

Then she’ll carelessly cut you and laugh while you’re bleeding

But she’ll bring out the best and the worst you can be

Blame it all on yourself ‘cause she’s always a woman to me

Ohh—she takes care of herself

She can wait if she wants; she’s ahead of her time

Ohh—and she never gives out and she never gives in, she just changes her mind

She’s frequently kind and she’s suddenly cruel

She can do as she pleases, she’s nobody’s fool

And she can’t be convicted, she’s earned her degree

And the most she will do is throw shadows at you, but she’s always a woman to me

“Hell of a song,” he spoke quietly to himself before looking back into the mirror and smiling at you.

You’re lonely and you’re trying to be a city
because cities never sleep and cities never cry

You’re lonely and you’re trying to be a forest because
they’re too busy with their rituals of rebirth to ever be sad

You’re lonely and you’re trying to be an ocean because an ocean doesn’t feel,
they’re all skin that swallows knives and turns arrows to dust

You’re lonely and you’re trying to be a planet
but planets aren’t supposed to sit at the window in a coffeeshop during rush hour, trying not to cry and blurt out how they’re feeling to the girl writing about birds in the seat next to them

You’re not a planet, so what planets are and aren’t supposed to do isn’t relevant in this case
The girl is kind, even when you break down crying like a sputtering vulcano in a D- science project
She gives you a smile and a leaflet and a pat on the back
That’s me, the leaflet, the one stuck between your fingers, that’s me, with the agressively-coloured block letters and the scary, scary words:


So tell me, are you?
Because I’ve got a trick up my sleeve,
but it won’t work if you’re scared

You are, I know you are, but you’ve been an unmelting glacier for so long
If you hold it together for a little longer, I’ll put you back in cold water, I promise you

So you’re lonely and you’re not a forestfire, or whatever it was that you were trying to be
A forest, you correct me, eternal rebirth, not destruction
Yes, yes, alright, you’re lonely and you’re not a forest
You’re lonely and you’re not afraid of a little magic
You’re lonely and you’re holding a leaflet and this is what it says:

Tell your bones it’s time to rest
If they won’t, bend them until they break
pick them up one by one as if you’re a kid that wants to keep every pebble on the shore
scatter them like fall leaves, sleep like winter

Tell your bones it’s time to wake up
Flowers bloom out of ashes in spring
You speak of rebirth and this is it:
your fragmented bones come back together underneath your skin

Explore the cavities in your chest as if you’re brave
Grow flowers, grow trees, set birds free, paint streams for fish to swim in and horses to drink from,
let there be light
This is your genesis, make it a story of realizing the garden of Eden is in yourself before you try to find it inside others

I worked, didn’t it?
It always works

You are a paradise now
but why do you sifle broken sobs in your pillow at night?

Oh, of course
They ate the apple, you had to send them away

They don’t even know that what they left, what they long for still, is gone now, do they?
It has withered away and you’re empty again, you’re lonely and you have no place to begin

maybe you were a forest, after all,
and a forest fire
You were everything all at once and it was fullfilling until it destroyed itself
But that’s not the worst of it, is it?

The worst is that it didn’t destroy you
You’re not a glacier anymore, but you’re still in cold water
Adam and Eve have moved out of your chest but you don’t know how to be without them
You are all alone and you have unleared to be lonely

I’m sure I know a leaflet that can help you do something about that