#(...*squints at Old White Deer*)

[cave-monkey]

Monkey King 2009 Episode 7

Huh. Is it just me or did they do something different with the animation this episode? More detailed faces? Additional expressions, maybe? The transitions aren't as smooth, but there seems to be...more there, somehow.

Anyway, in making up for the last two episodes I guess, this one is just fun. Ginseng Fruit is an absolute character. I'm not sure I like them, exactly, but then, neither is Stone Monkey, so there we go lol.

The monkeys being perfectly okay with random little guys clambering over them is one of my favorite things. They're immune to this sort of thing. Or like...mostly. We had a bit of a sample size this episode.

Marshal Ma: Immediately starts stress-scratching but makes zero effort to actually remove this weird little creature from his person. Marshal Liu has to rescue him.

Marshal Liu: Perfectly at ease with this weird little not-monkey hanging off of him. Cool as a cucumber. An absolute pro. A Dad, even.

Stone Monkey: GET IT OFF

(Stone Monkey succumbed to the inevitable and let Ginseng Fruit clamber over him and go on rides as they please eventually, but also they WILL get slung into the stratosphere if they can't hang on and Stone Monkey doesn't see how that is any of their concern. Train that grip or die, little buddy.)

They were trying to endear the four generals to us in the beginning of the episode too, I just know it, but I am holding strong. They need to properly apologize at this point before they get ANY slack. That said, them actually trying to do their jobs (to varying degrees of success) and actively looking out for their exhausted troop, was pretty all right. Sure, the fact that they can't manage to figure out how to man sustainable defenses without running their forces into the ground before any battle or siege even has a chance to start isn't good, but we already know they aren't great at their jobs and that's probably meant to be the point. Maybe a nod to how frequently Flower Fruit Mountain got into deep shit without Monkey King in the actual book.

And, okay, if the Demon King had actually been testing their defenses during this time, I'd cut them some slack, but we know he wasn't. He was busy fumigating his house and losing to fruit babies. He has a life outside of you!

Also, General Ba not even pretending to be doing anything besides shit-stirring was kind of funny.

Them not immediately letting on that they know exactly who Stone Monkey is was...probably cool of them, though? Not throwing the kid under the bus of this total stranger. Or they were just messing with Ginseng Fruit because they could. They're monkeys, Ginseng Fruit is Dramatic; maybe it was just too tempting to resist the mischief. Or they just wanted to pretend Stone Monkey didn't exist for awhile! The possibilities are endless.

Stone Monkey gets woken up from a nap and immediately chooses violence against random infants. (He is going to regret that.)

Hilarious how, so long as they were arguing and Ginseng Fruit was insulting him, Stone Monkey was perfectly happy to hang around, but as SOON as they start loudly praising him to the heavens, he panics and runs for the hills. Relatable. Little does he know, no one will ever reach Ginseng Fruit escape velocity. You are friends now, Stone Monkey. The choice was never yours. Face loss with dignity. (He does not. I haven't really felt the need to share screenshots in awhile, but this whole episode has me wanting to, because Stone Monkey's faces while Ginseng Fruit ran him down were great. Boy was struggling.)

But also, wow, he really does like his friends a little mean, doesn't he? Stone Monkey has a type, and Ginseng Fruit is not it. Good thing Ginseng Fruit has decided this isn't their problem.

Speaking of, I was gonna make a comment about Six Ears being inexplicably missing again for an entire half an episode, but turns out Stone Monkey was going to visit Jade Rabbit this whole time, so, you know. I guess that's their go-to excuse now for when they need a reason Six Ears and Stone Monkey aren't attached at the hip? Last time they just had to do it and hope no one noticed. (We noticed.)

Also I'm sure Six Ears being left totally alone while the Demon King and Company were screaming about flattening Flower Fruit Mountain in the beginning of the episode isn't going to lead to any unfortunate circumstances.

AWWW. Jade Rabbit protected Stone Monkey! She's got him tucked behind her when she goes after Ginseng Fruit, and even more notably, Stone Monkey stays there. I'm pretty sure Ginseng Fruit traumatized him. The Demon King wishes he had what Ginseng Fruit has. Literally. (Also also...so Stone Monkey SEES the crater left from where she went after Ginseng Fruit and even makes a 'wow I almost witnessed a murder. wow I might STILL witness a murder' face while Ginseng Fruit is held at wand-point but...says nothing to vouch for this kid. Leaves them to fend for themself entirely. Cold, Stone Monkey.) (He will also come to regret that.)

Jade Rabbit's really a, uh, 'kill them all, let Someone sort it out, maybe' kind of a girl, huh? Shoot first, ask questions never. She is out for BLOOD. That rock VAPORIZED. That's a nice little warm-up for what she wants to do to another, somewhat monkier shaped rock. She really went from ':)' to 'MURDER' in .2 seconds flat, and that is not an exaggeration.

And, look, she's going for Stone Monkey's entire, literal life almost immediately after this, but backing up I have to say that Stone Monkey's embarrassed/apologetic smile and Jade Rabbit's answering embarrassed smile while Ginseng Fruit did their thing was so cute. They're cute.

And then Jade Rabbit's slow death glare over her shoulder.

[insert boss music]

Run.

(Stone Monkey's blank Default Smile Face when he dodges Jade Rabbit's first murder attempt is also extremely funny. He is having a day today.) (This episode is so funny.)

And don't let me forget to mention!

Appreciation for the fact that, even while running for his life and still actively being pursued by divine vengeance, Stone Monkey is 100% ready to switch gears over to Gotta Rescue Six Ears mode on a dime.

But also: What are the chances?

Just glances casually to the left while sprinting away from a Murder Rabbit shooting death beams and, oh, hey, there's Six Ears getting MOBBED just down that hill! What a coincidence!

Like, not only do we find Six Ears surrounded by enemy soldiers like they're iron shavings and he's the magnet in a kid's science demonstration, but they somehow managed to find him in the MIDDLE of a RANDOM PART OF THE MOUNTAIN, presumably NOWHERE NEAR the main body of the troop considering how close they are to the Forbidden Forest, with Six Ears probably not having been doing anything but minding his own business and taking a nap away from the noise or whatever else it is he does when off by himself, like, not only this, but also Stone Monkey manages to run right into them.

Quick, what do you think is more powerful? Six Ears's 'Designated Damsel' danger magnet aura or Stone Monkey's inexplicable ability to cut a straight line toward him at any given moment of duress?

Jokes aside, Six Ears was holding his own pretty well, though! Stone Monkey's coming in like an irate comet in a few seconds, so he'll definitely be fine unless the Demon King manages to grab him as a shield and run first, but Six Ears managed to hold out against most of them by himself! Pretty sure he killed a dude, too? Ehhh I'm sure it's fine. He's doing a good job! He shouldn't beat himself up too much for needing help! (He's definitely going to beat himself up too much.)

...Oh, hey! It occurs to me that Jade Rabbit and Six Ears are almost in sight of each other.

!!!

Let them be friends.

Or the pettiest of mortal enemies. I feel like that could work too, but also that those are probably the only two options.

[delcakoo]

i wish i was a baller ₊✩˚⊹ c.yj

ty @yenqa bae for the idea <3

SUMMARY ! being his longtime crush, when yeonjun and his pesky friends’ catch you walking past the court, he’s quick to try an impress you with one (un)lucky shot on hoop in exchange for your number.

PAIRING ! yeonjun x f!reader

WC ! 1.3k

GENRE ! cavity inducing fluff

a/n: c’mon now u have to listen to i wish after readin that title c:

“shit, look who it is yeonjun!”

the male in question was much too busy shouldering soobin to the ground, dribbling past his now groaning friend before slam-dunking his favorite orange ball through the hoop to listen to lame, old, beomgyu.

“let’s go!” yeonjun punches the air, running by his teammates to offer them high fives that they halfheartedly return. “another point for the yeonjunniez!”

“horrible fuckin’ team name,” taehyun murmurs, while kai only nods in tired agreement.

before yeonjun could force the group into another scrimmage, a strong hand grips his shoulder, redirecting him to face a barely visible figure that’s only steps away from reaching the basketball court’s end. beomgyu squeezes tighter, shaking him back and forth slightly. “don’t ignore me! you recognise who that is, right man?” squinting his eyes, yeonjun gasps as he takes in the familiar sight of your signature hairstyle and white headphones.

oh, he knew it was you alright. even if it was pitch black out — only street lamps illuminating the shady pathways — and you were clearly wearing all dark shades to blend in more, he knew.

“‘course, what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn’t know my girl when i see her?”

soobin, who’s still brushing off pebbles after his dramatic fall, rolls his eyes at the straight fibs coming out of his friend’s lips. “she barely knows you exist.”

“not for long.” before anyone could stop him or make him think at the very least, yeonjun has himself pressed against the chained wall of the court, fingers noisily locking through the metal in an attempt to grasp your attention. “y/n, is that you?”

when you swiftly turn at the sound of your name, looking adorably like a deer caught in headlights, yeonjun is reminded of just how head over heels he is.

“yeonjun..?” he’s never been so thankful to mr. sim assigning partners for projects, or else you still wouldn’t know your future boyfriend’s name! you look past him to take in the other boys who send you awkward waves, and yeonjun glares in annoyance at each and every one of them. what shitty wingmen.

“uh, yeah.. so, what’re you doing out here alone?”

with one more glance around the empty park, yeonjun nearly squeals as you begin walking closer, shoving your phone into your hoodie pocket smoothly. “j-just clearing my head i guess. what about you guys?” your stuttering gives him hope that perhaps you’re just as nervous as he is right now — leading a small smirk to etch across the boy’s lips.

“practising extra late since tryouts open soon,” he replies, gesturing to his friend group in the background. “they all kinda suck though.”

“thanks!” beomgyu spits back, but yeonjun could care less about his sarcastic comeback when it resulted in you letting out a soft chuckle. that was him by the way — he made you laugh!

in an attempt to give yeonjun more one on one time with you, the others had attempted to go back to playing (while still eavesdropping of course), but it was clear that their friend needed a little shove in the right direction.

taehyun moves closer, adjusting his black muscle top while offering you a mischievous grin. “say, y/n. if yeonjun here gets a three pointer, would you consider giving him your number?”

besides kai’s howling laughter in the distance, the court is frozen in tension, more specifically yeonjun — who’s jaw has practically dropped to his ass. this was not part of the plan, taehyun! attempting to bandage the wound, the raven haired boy smacks his friend, hoping the expression on your poor, confused face would falter at least a bit.

his ears burn bright red, and he can only pray the hood of his grey coat is deep enough to hide it. “i uh- sorry about that, you don’t— you don’t have to do anything—“

too busy manifesting some way to travel back in time and tape taehyun’s mouth shut, yeonjun fails to notice the amused smile creeping its way to your lips. “no, it’s okay. you can try if you want.”

soobin and beomgyu share a horrified glance, just how is this working?

yeonjun blinks, holding a bewildered yet determined look in his pupils. “i— you mean like, to shoot?” he blabbers in disbelief.

you shrug. “why not?” and before he knows it, the ball is forced into his grip by a snickering soobin, who attempts to relieve his friend’s shoulders that are tenser than he’s ever seen them with a swift massage.

little did he know that you found it almost as endearing as the way yeonjun’s teeth nibble onto his bottom lip as he gets into position, crouching with precision before jumping, releasing the basketball with a flick of his wrists.

the orange ball flies for a bit before landing right on the hoop’s ring, bouncing across it loudly, spinning around for a bit before—

“shit..” beomgyu murmurs in horror, watching how the ball flops pathetically off the side of the ring along with the other five pairs of eyes.

yeonjun refuses to believe this.

sinking down to his knees, nails frustratingly glide through his bangs while a pained groan leaves his lips. “i didn’t miss a single fucking shot earlier,” he winces, “but of course when it actually matters i fuck up.”

god, he was so cute — it was all you could think to yourself as you paced closer, squatting next to the boy’s destressed form all while lightly patting his shoulder. when yeonjun lifts his head, his eyes widen at the closeness of your face being mere centimetres from his. for a second, he thinks he might just pass out on the spot, up until you pull out a pen from your pocket, grinning cutely as usual.

when you open up your palm, it takes him a minute to realize you were asking for his hand.

ever so carefully, yeonjun places his hand in your grasp, breath stuttering at the feeling of his crush’s fingers wrapping comfortingly around his wrist. “what- what are you..” he gulps when you bend a bit closer to begin scribbling something right across the softness of his pale skin, glancing up at his friend’s with a face of utter disbelief who only give him an equally gobsmacked look in return.

suddenly, you’re releasing him and standing back to full height, pen being shoved casually into the embrace of your black hoodie as if you hadn’t just narrowly avoided giving the poor boy a heart attack moments prior. “yeonjun, i was gonna give it to you either way,” you snort.

wait, what? did he just go through the five stages of grief for nothing?

all he can do is watch with eyes gaped as you slowly march back towards the entrance, only snapping out of it when beomgyu pulls his arm up to investigate the nine numbers inked across his hand. “bro.. you did it.” he states it as if yeonjun had just solved world hunger, shaking his friend frantically.

“i.. i did it?” he repeats dumbly.

it seems as though he can’t get a break; now soobin’s the one pushing him towards the entrance. “go on, dipshit!” he exclaims, “it’s pitch black out there, walk her home!”

this has yeonjun’s expression changing from dumbstruck to full on panic, nearly tripping on his own shoelaces as he sprints out to catch up to your now-far-away form, grey hood falling off and finally revealing his bright red ears in the process.

there was no doubt that he looked insane — lighting or not. “she has him wrapped around her finger, huh?” kai can’t help but cackle once more.

soobin takes a shot, easily making a dunk with the help of his height before sighing in agreement. “oh, absolutely.”

if you enjoyed, reblogs and feedback’s always appreciated <3

© delcakoo on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.

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[bimobuddy]

Just Like (Really) Old Times

SFW Hazbin Tickle Fic

Lee!Adam, Ler!Lucifer

Sinner!Adam

Spoilers and Swearing

AdamsApple if you squint just a little

Summary: Adam moved into the Hotel and that means living with the very people he tried to Exterminate, and with the very man he's hated for so long. However when Lucifer brings back some 'old memories,' he starts to warm up to the idea of living there.

It had definitely been a shock for... everyone.

The day someone knocked at the Hotel doors, and when Charlie opened them, she was met with someone.. familiar.

There stood Adam, now with grayer skin, red eyes, leathery wings, and horns. As he opened his mouth to speak, it was revealed that he even had fangs now.

"Uh... hi..."

He had expected for the doors to be slammed in his face, for Charlie to tell him to get lost, hell, he even expected to be killed again.

But as Charlie looked up at him for a moment, she stepped aside, and opened the door wider.

"Checking in? We have room."

♡♡♡

Weeks had gone by, and everyone was tense. How couldn't they be? The crew had to live within close proximity of the man who's been leading exterminations for years to kill them. And Adam was living within close proximity of the people he's been exterminating for years.. it was awkward as shit.

And for the first time, he felt like he didn't belong somewhere. He felt as though he had invited himself into someone else's house and was overstaying his welcome- But he had nowhere else to go.

He didn't even know what to do with himself. He had become the very creature he had sworn to destroy. The very pest he had been exterminating. His beautiful golden feathers were gone, his halo was gone.. Everything about himself, to him at least, was gone.

Lucifer leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as he watched Adam from across the room. The First Man was on the couch, looking down his his clawed hands that looked so unfamiliar to him. It reminded the king of when he had first met Adam, back when the man had been created. And back before he had fallen.

-

Adam looked down at his hands in awe. He turned them over, amazed before looking down at the rest of himself. He had been alive for about a month at this point, but he couldn't get over the fact that he was alive and existing. He loved it. He loved being able to see the world around him, being able to hear birds, the wind in the leaves, even his own voice. Especially his own voice. He had spent quite a while just sitting and speaking to himself, even just making random noises, stretching his words out, making the tone go up and down. One of the angels sent to check on him told him it was called 'singing.' He liked singing.

As Adam sat there, just making random noises to himself, he hadn't noticed a familiar white serpent approach him. Not until it chuckled at the noises he was making, startling him. Lucifer transformed back into his normal form. "Sorry for scaring you. I see you've discovered singing." He mused, sitting next to him.

Adam nodded, grinning. "It's fun, I really like it. I think it sounds nice... Um- ... I'm sorry, which one are you?" Lucifer tilted his head and laughed lightly. "Lucifer. I usually stay as a snake when I enter the garden?" The man perked up. "Oh yeah! The white one! I'm Adam!"

Lucifer couldn't help but grin at the human's enthusiasm. He adored it to be honest. "Trust me, we all know who you are. How are you enjoying life so far?" "Oh, I really like it! I like learning new things about myself. So far I've learned that I like sweet things, like fruit, and soft things like those other horse things- with the.. branches.. on their heads?" "Deer?" "Yeah, deer, I like those."

The angel smiled along with Adam, just as excited as he was about his discoveries. "You wanna know what else is soft? Here, I think you'll like it." He extended one of his wings out for Adam to feel, accidentally brushing it against his side. The human jumped and covered his side, a surprised grin spreading across his face followed by a sweet sounding giggle.

Lucifer gasped and scooted closer. "You're ticklish! I didn't know we were giving that to humans! Oh this is great, you're going to have so much fun-" "What's.. What's ticklish?"

The angel grinned, excitedly. "Lift your arms a little bit, I'll show you." Adam did as he was told, lifting his arms up. Again, Lucifer extended his wings, gently brushing them against Adam's sides. The human snorted and slammed his arms down, laughing. Lucifer pulled his wings back to avoid having them stuck under Adam's arms, instead reaching out and gently digging into the sides of his tummy.

Adam shrieked and threw his head back, laughing. Not wanting to overwhelm him, Lucifer slowed to a stop, and pulled his hands back. After a moment of giggling and catching his breath, the human looked back up at the angel, sitting up and smiling.

"Can you do that again?"

-

Adam looked up at Lucifer. "The fuck are you staring at, loser?" Lucifer raised a brow. "I'm sorry, who lost?" He asked, leaning on his cane. Adam flinched a little and looked away, back down at his hands. They were clawed, darker at the hands than the rest of his arm.

The couch dipped down, causing Adam to look back up at the angel next to him. The angel he was so familiar with. The angel he had once been friends with. Lucifer smiled. "Actually I was just remembering some things.. Back when you were still alive. Like how you told me you liked sweet things. Do you still? It's been a couple years since then."

Adam snorted. "Yeah, just a couple thousand.. Yes, I do still like sweet foods." The king chuckled. "And I remembered you telling me about the 'horse things with branches on their heads.-'" "Oh fuhuck off, I didn't know what deer were."

"But one more thing I remembered," Lucifer skittered up his side, "Was when we discovered you were ticklish." Adam jolted upright, batting his hand away. "Fuhuck off- Don't-" "I specifically remembered you asking me to do it again. Do you remember that?" He asked, abandoning his cane to gently scribble up both of his sides.

Adam immediately burst into giggles, slamming his arms down. "Fuck! fuhuhuhuck you fuhuck off noho I dihidn't!" Lucifer chuckled and tweaked his sides, gently squishing the pudge between his claws, causing Adam to shriek and curl up. "Yes the fuck you did, you liar," he laughed along with him, "That wasn't the only time either, buddy. It seemed any chance you got, you were asking me to tickle you."

Adam was blushing, and blushing hard. He grabbed ahold of Lucifer's wrists, but couldn't really push him away as he was giggling so hard. The king continued, "You loved it so much you introduced Eve to it, I remember that," He gently kneaded into Adam's ribs, earning some squeals, "You're not as sneaky as you think you are, Buddy."

Lucifer raked his fingers down Adam's ribs, and gently skittered across his belly. The sinner tried to curl up and bat his hands away, letting out a snort. "Dohohont- Shuhuhut the fuHUCK uhuhup!" "Oh, don't shut the fuck up? Alrighty~!" The teasing got to Adam. He gave up fighting back and just covered his face.

"I know during our fight I said you 'let yourself go,' but you know what, I think this is better," he started to scritch at his tummy, "Now I have more tickle room." Adam's face turned an even darker shade of red at this, growing more and more flustered.

"Fuck- st- nohohoho!" "See? Even now you're still stopping yourself from saying 'stop.'" Adam started to bat at him again, grabbing for his wrists, "SHUHUT THE FUHUCK UHUHUP!"

Lucifer pulled his hands back, grinning as he watched Adam just go completely limp, his giggles mixing with his panting. "Question for you Addy," "Don't you ever fucking call me that again." "When you were an angel, were your wings ticklish?"

Adam's black and red eyes snapped open. Instinctively, his wings folded over his body, as if he were cocooning himself. "Don't you fucking dare, Lucy."

Lucifer stopped.

"You called me Lucy." Adam paused a little, too. "Yeah.." Lucifer smiled a little. "You haven't called me that since Eden." The sinner looked away momentarily. "I guess.. All this sort of just.. reminded me of the Garden," He looked back down at his claws, "Things were.. so much simpler back then."

Sensing his discomfort with his new body, Lucifer took one of Adam's hands in his own. "You don't look bad, y'know. I know it's different, scary even, but it's not bad." He turned Adam's hand over so it was resting palm-up. He softly traced it, watching as the other's claws twitched from the soft ticklish feeling. "It'll take some time, Adam, but you'll get used to it. Comfortable, even-" "That's what I'm worried about.." Adam looked down at him, being a full two feet taller. He sighed and pulled his hand back.

They sat in silence for a bit before Lucifer broke it. "You know, Charlie is thrilled that you're here." Adam scoffed, "After I destroyed the place and nearly killed you guys?"

"She's happy that you chose to be here. You made the decision to check into a Hotel meant for redemption. That means somewhere deep down, you at the very least have hope. And that's a good start."

Adam huffed. "What if it's not possible..?" The king looked up at him. "Then I guess you're stuck here with us." He offered a smile.

The sinner couldn't help but smile back. As much as he would have loathed the though even just a week ago, it didn't seem so bad now. Lucifer seemed to want to be his friend again, and Charlie was a sweet kid who truly seemed to believe in him.

Back in Heaven, he had a lot of power, sure. He was The Man. He always got what he wanted, whether it was power, bent rules, or sex. But here? He was seen as an equal, as someone who was flawed, someone who had been human. And he was surprisingly okay with that.

His soft smile, turned to a smirk. "I remember something, too." Lucifer tilted his head, curiously. Adam continued, "I remember the first time I retaliated, and found out your wings were ticklish as fuck." "Shit- you back the fuck off-" Lucifer hopped up and took off running.

Adam unfolded his wings, which seemed to be stronger than they once were, and with a powerful flap, immediately caught up to him.

Who knew the King of Hell hiccuped when he laughed?

[stardustpinkart]

Lucifer transformed back into his normal form. "Sorry for scaring you. I see you've discovered singing." He mused, sitting next to him.

Adam nodded, grinning. "It's fun, I really like it. I think it sounds nice... Um- ... I'm sorry, which one are you?" Lucifer tilted his head and laughed lightly. "Lucifer. I usually stay as a snake when I enter the garden?" The man perked up. "Oh yeah! The white one! I'm Adam!"

Lucifer couldn't help but grin at the human's enthusiasm. He adored it to be honest. "Trust me, we all know who you are. How are you enjoying life so far?" "Oh, I really like it! I like learning new things about myself. So far I've learned that I like sweet things, like fruit, and soft things like those other horse things- with the.. branches.. on their heads?" "Deer?" "Yeah, deer, I like those."

The angel smiled along with Adam, just as excited as he was about his discoveries. "You wanna know what else is soft? Here, I think you'll like it." He extended one of his wings out for Adam to feel, accidentally brushing it against his side. The human jumped and covered his side, a surprised grin spreading across his face followed by a sweet sounding giggle.

Lucifer gasped and scooted closer. "You're ticklish! I didn't know we were giving that to humans! Oh this is great, you're going to have so much fun-" "What's.. What's ticklish?"

The angel grinned, excitedly. "Lift your arms a little bit, I'll show you." Adam did as he was told, lifting his arms up. Again, Lucifer extended his wings, gently brushing them against Adam's sides. The human snorted and slammed his arms down, laughing. Lucifer pulled his wings back to avoid having them stuck under Adam's arms, instead reaching out and gently digging into the sides of his tummy.

Adam shrieked and threw his head back, laughing. Not wanting to overwhelm him, Lucifer slowed to a stop, and pulled his hands back. After a moment of giggling and catching his breath, the human looked back up at the angel, sitting up and smiling.

"Can you do that again?" -------------------------------------------

Based on this cute lil fic I found on Tumblr :) Theres an abudance of Hazbin stuff at the mo, a lot of it really good!

Its nice to think how it might have been in the early days. I grew up catholic, schools and the like(though we didnet really go to church or anything) so I know a few bits. The basic stories, Adam and eve, etc. I believe Lucifer was gods most beloved angel, even had a diffrent name, untill he fell. And that supposedly it hurt him terribly when his beloved angel did.

So since Hazbin already has an alternate lore, what REALLY happened in the beggining. I'm sure Adam would be a lot more innocent to begin with, more pleasant, after all, being nearly made, exploring LIFE. The worst aspects maybe came later especially if heaven and its angels overlypraised him, "Adam could do NOTHING wrong", which led to his arrongance and rudeness and cruelty. Perhaps in the beggining, Lucifer and Adam were even friends? It was later events that changed all that.

There is NO sexual themes here, just that of COURSE, Adam and Eve were naked in the garden. They coevered themsleves in leaves in shame after eating the fruit of knowledge right?

I was stumped for colours cuz, they do seem to vary. Like, Sir pentious, his new form was a lot less scary and threatening in heaven. SO I figured, when he was still alive and just starting in the world, he would have a more mortal colour scheme yeah? As would Lucifer have a softer angelic colour scheme back then

I really enjoyed drawing this :)

[doonarose]

New fic!!! The big one that I've been thinking about and writing for ages and I really, really, really want it to be good! Chapter one is here! The next nine chapters are written and will drop about once a week!

CW/TW: Explicit sexual content in later chapters. Minor human injuries, major animal injuries, car accident in this chapter.

Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are from different worlds with little in common and no reason for their lives to ever intersect. But then one dark, cold, miserable night their meeting becomes unavoidable as they narrowly avoid their cars colliding. They're left with an injured wild animal and the inevitability of starting to fall for each other. But, of course, it isn't as simple as that...

A/N: Hoo boy. This story has been percolating for seven and a half months. It's my first try at a human AU and I first came up with it as some sort of coping mechanism after I hit a kangaroo in my brand new car and had to limp another four hours home without a headlight.

I never would have thought about trying to write it properly without the needling, annoying, and cheerleading of the GOAD writer's chat! Extra special shoutouts to u/harlotofupdog and u/Paperclip_ninja for being at the forefront of the push for 'deer fic' and then agreeing to beta without realising that would also mean listening to me bemoan every last little decision and detail for weeks on end! Thanks also to u/FuzzyGoblinoid for even more cheerleading and also making the lovely header art!

Nine chapters are already written and the whole story mapped out so I will be updating about once a week with those and hopefully stay ahead! There are some feelings to be had, but do not fear, the smut is closer than you think and, I promise, everything will work out in the end!

@goodomensafterdark

Excerpt It is a truly horrendous winter’s night, cloaked in pitch black darkness and pelting rain. Howling winds make the little white hatchback shudder and tilt as it rolls along, Aziraphale grasping the steering wheel tighter as he wills the tyres to maintain their grip on the road.

The night is all the more miserable for being a Monday, in all likelihood the start of a fairly rotten week, and a teeth-chattering eight degrees Celsius — both inside and outside the car because, of course, Aziraphale’s heating hasn’t worked since December. He should have left London earlier and been home already, snuggled under the blankets with a good book and a cup of tea. But Sharron, the bookshop owner, had called to say she was stuck on the other side of town and asked him to work back. It hadn’t occurred to him to say no.

Which is why he is now squinting through the windscreen as the wipers squeak back and forth and the rain starts to come down even harder. The first crack of lightning makes him jump in his seat and illuminates the dense woodland streaming past on either side. It also reveals that the twin gleaming tail lights ahead belong to an old-fashioned, sleek beast of a car.

Aziraphale eases off the accelerator to put a few more metres between him and the vehicle ahead and grumbles as the digital clock ticks past nine. They are both driving at well over the speed limit but Aziraphale knows these roads, knows his way home. He so desperately wants to be there already, instead of here, miserably holding his whole body tense against the onslaught of weather outside.

The road curves and the hatchback’s tyres slip for a moment, hydroplaning and skidding towards the wrong side of the road before Aziraphale regains control around the next turn. He really, really just wants to be home and he feels his bottom lip start to wobble involuntarily.

Around another curve, this one tighter, but Aziraphale knows it well. Only another dozen miles or so and —

The tail lights ahead are suddenly too close and too red — the hulking car’s brake lights flash and then it’s skidding, spinning sideways on the road ahead of him.

Aziraphale has no time to process, barely enough to react.

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[mulberrysilk]

Lavender Haze

Urahara Kisuke x f!succubusreader

Summary: The vacant house next to Urahara's shop no longer remained empty as a pretty girl moves in. Was he obsessed with the girl next door? Maybe. But how could anyone blame him when you looked so delectable? Plus, he made sure to keep an eye on you, something about your reiatsu was different too...He's just being a good neighbor, that's it! He didn't expect to find out that you were more than just his beautiful neigbour...

cw: eventual smut, inspired by that line in the Chainsaw Man scene, low-key Urahara is stalkery, reader is a succubus, unprotected seggs, reader has succubus form which is small horns, wings and tail, oral(male receiving), creampie, Urahara is in love with his succubus lover, talks of reiatsu you know bleach stuff

wc: 8.2k ( she’s a long one y’all)

a/n: thought this was gonna be normal nasty smut with the normal girl next door. Turns out I made she's a succubus. ADHD brain go bRRRr.

Easily he recalled the Summer when he first met you. He had woken up past the eleventh morning hour, just in time for Tessai to return with items to stock in the store. It was the 4th Sunday of the month. The date where they routinely stocked the store with not only shinigami goods but snacks, drinks, and other convenience store items. He had wondered why there was a moving truck parked in front of the small humble house that neighbored his shop. For years it has been empty. The last owner was this little old lady who sadly passed some time ago. He was used to it being empty so it was only normal that he got curious about who would be living right beside him and his dear employees.

Opening his fan, he cooled himself from the coming afternoon heat and casually stood by the fence, the branches of the trees and their leaves, concealed his wandering eyes. Fanning himself and keeping his eyes hidden by his bucket hat, he searched for the person who was going to be his neighbor.

Out from the back of the truck in a baby pink tank top, denim shorts, and white sneakers, you appeared like those girls in the movies. The girl next door. He really thought those things were just a thing in the fictional world of movies, he didn't expect it to be happening right in front of his eyes. Was he in a movie right now? He pushed the ridiculous thought away and focused on you. He watched as you unloaded the truck with cardboard boxes that contained your belongings and shamelessly ogled the skin revealed to him due to the summer heat.

From your side profile, he could tell just how pretty you were. Your cheeks were flushed from the heat and your skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, making your tank top cling to your body even more, hugging your curves and reminding him of those models in summer magazines. Was he dreaming?

He didn't even know how long he had been staring but he remembered you went in and out of the front door twice, and the heap of cardboard boxes by the pavement doesn't seem to have lessened.

“You know, if you want to make advances toward her, my tip is for you to offer to help her move the boxes.” Tessai’s deep voice sounded behind him, startling the former shinigami.

“Tessai! When did you—advances? I’m merely…looking.” He brought his fan to cover the lower half of his face, a little flustered to be caught. He was so distracted he didn’t notice his friend’s presence.

“You look like a stalker.” A haughty younger voice commented.

Urahara flicked Jinta on the forehead, who was actually looking at you too.

Meanwhile, little Ururu approached you and politely asked if you needed help. The three males hid behind the safety of the concrete fence watching as she talked to you. You smiled at the young girl and their hearts fluttered. Ururu then pointed in their direction and your eyes followed where she was pointing. Squinting your eyes, you could make out two tall figures and a smaller one.

The three of them froze, caught like a deer in headlights.

You waved prettily in their direction as a short greeting before Ururu and you moved your stuff inside.

“You like her.” Jinta teased Urahara.

“Nonsense. I know nothing about her.” He played it off coolly, fanning himself.

“You know that she’s your neighbor now and that she’s attractive.” Tessai backed up the kid, Urahara mocked an expression of betrayal as his friend took Jinta’s side.

“We shall be good neighbors to her and nothing more.” Urahara snapped his fan shut before returning to the air-conditioned confines of his shop. Although he said what he did, he was sure he was going to see a lot of you, and should the opportunity arise that he could flirt.

Just harmless flirting.  He told himself.

If only he could take back his words.

As the summer progressed, you settled into your little home and he caught you most of the time when you were coming home from wherever you’ve been but on the weekends, he would have a full view of you in your backyard, tending to the herbs and vegetables you grew at home. With the heat, you’d be in shorts most of the time and it was paired with either a tank top or a sports bra. The two of you only ever acknowledged one another silently, not having the chance to speak to each other formally but he wasn’t going to rush things. Sometimes he thinks it’s better off this way. To just look and don’t touch. It was painful in certain ways for him because, like other men, he too had his own needs and desires.

One afternoon changed everything.

It had been so hot, the air conditioning in his shop wasn’t enough to fight the heat. He had brought out extra fans to make it better and the more he stared at the frozen items box, the more he wanted to just stick his face inside to feel relief.

The door to his shop slid open and in you came. Your back was against the light that shined as you entered and it made you glow. He felt a hint of warmth collect in his abdomen when you smiled softly at him. Your shoulders and collarbones were exposed as you wore a sundress with thin straps. It was shorter than most sundresses, it came up to your mid-thigh, not that he was complaining. It cinched perfectly at your waist and the fabric of the skirt flowed and swished with every movement. God, you were absolutely delectable today.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my new neighbor. How may I help you?” He plastered on his shopkeeper facade.

“I was hoping to find ice cream.” You clasped your hands behind you and raised your shoulders in a cute way. “It’s too hot these days and I’m working from home, so I thought, ice cream would be nice.”

“Good for you, I do have ice cream and an assortment of sweets if that’s to your fancy.” He gestured to the freezer.

“Thank you.” You grinned before going to make your ice cream selection. “So…um…I know I just moved in. I’ve met Ururu who told me she works here and I feel a little rude that I haven’t introduced myself to you yet.” You made small talk, eying the variety of ice cream flavours.

“Oh?”

You introduced yourself properly, telling him your name, and extended your thanks to him for how Ururu helped you move in.

“She’s really strong for her age.” You said, finally choosing an ice cream flavour. Strawberry.

“That she is. Would you be so kind as to also get me a piece?” He asked before you made your way to the counter.

“Oh, sure. What flavour?”

“Same as yours.”

At the counter, you reached inside your little purse to pay but he spoke. “It’s on the house this time, cutie.”

Your heart jumped at the nickname. Heat collected in your cheeks and you murmured your thanks. Somehow instead of leaving, you found yourself sitting next to him in the air-conditioned living room of his house, eating ice cream and having a pleasant conversation. His company was nice and you had to admit you were proud to have made a friend out of your neighbour….attractive neighbour.

Kisuke felt the same too but he had felt the need to keep you around because he was surprised by the spiritual pressure a human like yourself had. He was curious to know if you were some special being or merely a human who will bait hollows and other entities your way. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were some special being with how endearing and magnetic you were. But if you were merely a human with such energy…well, he felt the need to protect you. It didn’t help that he was so willing because he had developed a crush, obsession? Whatever people these days called it. He just knew he wanted you in every way possible but of course, he had to be a gentleman.

“What brought you to Karakura?”

“Was looking at listings and this place was up for rent at a really good price, plus it’s an easy commute to the city and it’s quiet.” You replied, suckling at the strawberry popsicle.

“Quiet? You running away from a boyfriend or something?” He playfully suggested, sneakily asking if you were taken or not. Not that it would be a problem.

“Something like that.” You murmured and his eyes widened a little but then you broke into a smile. “I’m just kidding!”You laughed. “Have you always been a shop owner?”

“Nope.” He answered you truthfully and you tilted your head.

“Oh?”

“It’s complicated but basically, I was expelled from my past occupation.”

“Expelled? Did you do something bad?” Your gaze never left him.

“To them, yes but in my eyes, I failed at what I had to do. So I came here and decided to be a shopkeeper.” He grinned at you, making light of the topic and you gave him a small smile.

“Quite the interesting man you are.” You giggled before having another taste of your ice cream, unaware of the eyes that clouded like a storm at the way your lips wrapped at the tip of the pink iced treat. Taking a bite of his treat, he couldn’t help but wonder how soft your lips might be against his skin, his lips, or his—

“Oi! Urahara!” The shoji door slid open, the cool air from the air conditioning escaping the confines of the living room. Urahara internally sighed at his disrupted thoughts.

Your head casually turned to the unfamiliar voice and stood by the door was someone you’ve never met before. He stared at you and you stared at him, your brows furrowed as he continued to stare for quite some time. His teddy bear brown eyes looked you up and down, taking in the view of an attractive stranger with an ice lolly between her lips and the pretty summer dress she wore. Pink dusted his cheeks before he turned his attention to the man seated not too far from you.

“I-I need to talk to you!” Orange haired boy demanded, masking his fluster.

“Kurosaki-kun, as you can see I have a visitor,” Kisuke responded and you waved your hand.

“It’s okay. I can go.”  You told the two men, the urgency in Kurosaki’s eyes told you that it was important and something not to be shared with others. It’s not your problem nor did you care to know what it was.

“Thanks for the ice cream, Kisuke.” You chimed happily, sending a wink his way, and it felt like an arrow went straight into his heart. “I’ll see you around.”

So cute. He thought to himself, a little disappointed you had to go but he must admit watching you walk past Ichigo on your way out, was a pretty view that made up for your leaving. He thanked whatever designer made your dress at such a perfect length. One that wasn’t too short to explicitly tempt and not too long to bore. It was just the right length that created tension, that made Urahara wonder how pretty it would be to bunch the fabric up to reveal more of your thighs.

Once the front door shut telling them of your departure, Ichigo turned to the man still sitting and halfway done with his ice cream.

“Who was that?”

“My neighbor.” Urahara sighed with a smile that Ichigo couldn’t read but made him narrow his eyes at the playfully crafty man. “So, what is it that you need to tell me so badly that you disturbed my precious time with my pretty neighbor?”

Urahara wouldn't say he was a stalker. Maybe if anyone did see him, they'd think that's what he was doing. But he was merely watching you from the comfort of his home. It wasn't his fault his bedroom upstairs looked directly into your bedroom. He'd like to think fate was tempting him, giving him signs that your paths were meant to constantly cross.

It was definitely a game of fate because there were times the curtains were closed and days when they were left drawn apart. It’s not like he waits for you to show up or anything, there were just some instances where he’d see you going to bed in those cute pyjamas of yours. He liked in particular the pink ones or the white and pink shorts ensemble.

Tonight though, he could see you again. Lying on your stomach with a bunny plushie cradling your chin while you read a book, your legs swung in the air, the air conditioner in full blast with how hot the weather had been. This lovely night's choice of sleepwear was a white cotton tank top paired with white frilly shorts. His eyes ran along the length of your legs, wondering how smooth your thighs might be. 

Your presence in his life was constant and honestly was a breath of fresh air from all the hollow and shinigami issues that come and go. He would even say you two had become close friends. Small exchanges became him coming over to fix stuff when you need it or you going over to the shop with sweets or pastries from the city. If you had a watermelon to beat the heat, you’d share it with him.

Despite this blooming friendship, Urahara was plagued with thoughts that made his stomach warm and crave you like a wolf hungry for prey. It didn’t help that you had also become the subject of his wet dreams that had always made him wake up in a mess, sweating and he even felt like he didn’t get enough sleep….was he being a bad neighbour?

And could you blame him for the shock and dumbfounded look on his face when you, one searing hot afternoon, asked him? “So do you wanna do it?”

Your voice was soft as your head lay against the pillow of your bed, the two of you had escaped to your room after he had helped you hook the sound system to the tv. The air conditioner was on full blast and the cold air being pushed out was the only sound in the silence between you two.

Urahara sucked in a breath, and doing so made the overwhelmingly sweet scent of your sheets, of you, too much. Pheromones was it? “Do what?” He calmly grinned, not letting his composure falter.

You shifted in your position, stretching a little then leaned your head on your extended arm, locks of your hair cascading over your face and that delicate curve of your neck. Your eyes appeared sleepy as if you had some sake to drink and had gotten tipsy, it was alluring, it was…seducing. Was he dreaming again?

The summer sun glared at him and his eyes adjusted and searched for your face, finding first your glossed pink lips. “Fuck.”

Now he really was at a loss for words. He felt like who he used to be over a hundred years ago when he had become Captain. Easily flustered, nervous, and unsure of himself. “W-what?”

The sun got into his eyes again.

When they adjusted this time, your hands rested on either side of his head and you were looking down at him, meeting his gaze as your hair fell around you. The warm orange hue of the sun kissed your skin and made you and your hair glow. He could even feel the warmth of your skin  as you leaned over him, so close.

“I think you heard what I said.” You purred, throwing a leg over his hip. Urahara swallowed the lump in his throat again. Was he dreaming? Oh, god, was he dreaming?! His dreams even felt as real as this. It was hard to tell.

He didn’t dare move a finger scared that if he touched you, you’d disappear. Even when you straddled him with your cool palms against his chest. He laid still.

Your eyes never left him and he wondered if he had imagined the pink glow that flashed in your irises when you batted your lashes and pushed apart the lapels of his samue.

A finger traced along his center, from the crevice between his two collarbones down his chest and to his abdomen. “What’s wrong?”You leaned forward, your lips brushing against his earlobe as you cooed sickeningly sweet. “Why are you so still?” You toyed with the strings of his pants. He swore to himself. Blood was rushing down to his groin and it didn’t help that your ass was pressed against it. There was no way you couldn’t feel him harden against you.

You raised your head a little, pushing his bucket hat up in the process to remove the shadow he hid behind. His eyes couldn’t stay in one place. It jumped from your eyes, the gentle tempting smile of your lips and the sight of your cleavage as your shirt dipped low, soft breasts in their lacy bra cups,

“Y/N-chan….” He sounded as if he was warning you.

“I’m not playing any games with you, Kisuke.” You said, sliding your hands from his shoulders and then to his hands, guiding them to your waist. “Am I?”

“I think you are playing a dangerous game,” he spoke, feeling your waist, internally groaning at the fact he was touching you, really touching you.

“Awe,” you cooed, pouting your lips mockingly. “Are you nervous?” You were teasing him now, cradling his wrists and sliding them higher til they cupped your breasts.

“Aren’t you?” He managed to say, fighting the urge to squeeze your breasts through your shirt, he could already feel just how soft they were.

You shook your head, your resting smile unfaltering as you continued to splay your fingers on his exposed chest, running them up and down sensually slow you could feel the goosebumps on his skin form.

You cupped his face, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb. Each contact made a shivering delightful feeling bloom on his skin and the intensity of your gaze melted him further and further as if it was pulling him under a spell.

The feeling intensified when you leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his cheek, then his jaw, and god, his neck. Urahara moaned softly, the heat of your lips and the slight nibble of your teeth on his sensitive skin was like another sip of exquisite saké.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He lowered his hands to your hips, grabbing the flesh as he rolled his hips upwards for so much needed friction. The feeling made you giggle. That sound was like a siren song.

“Maybe.” You said with a smile he could feel against his skin before you continued to kiss along his neck. A sensual roll of your hips and his eyes shut momentarily at the feeling. “I can tell you’re enjoying this.”

He was. He was thoroughly enjoying this, the heavy petting, the kissing, and the closeness of your bodies. This experience was different. He felt all too consumed in your aura, your presence, and your touch. It was intoxicating. He wondered if this was normal. If the dreams, the way you took up all his thoughts and now your very touch, were all still of the human world.

Before he could even question and remind himself of your spiritual energy, your lips stopped their delicious kisses and you straightened your back. You reached for the hem of your shirt and peeled it over your head, your hair tousled by the removal. Staring at you felt surreal. It was almost psychedelic. Your body was the only figure that was clear while everything else other than you was fuzzy and blurred.

“I’m gonna ask you again, Kisuke.” Your voice traveled smoothly in both his ears, echoing in his head. He swore there were pink symbols in your irises right now. His eyes were locked on yours, there was no denying it. “Do you…” you pressed your naked breasts against his chest, their softness against his muscles making him painfully hard. “…want…”. You kissed his cheek. “…to…” then the corner of his lips, so dangerously close. He gripped your hips, hard enough to leave marks. You were driving him crazy. You hovered your lips over his, barely touching. “…fuck?”

You didn’t have to ask him again.

A rough hand grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down to finally, finally, kiss you.

Oh, he tasted sweet. So sweet. You could feel his beautiful spiritual energy seep under your skin. You were right to have chosen him.  Even though you moved here to start anew, you didn’t expect to meet someone like him. You didn’t know what he was exactly but his spiritual energy had you weak in your knees. It flowed bountifully like a waterfall. It was strong too which meant you wouldn’t need much to keep your capabilities base level.

You were giddy and thrilled to have found him.

This was not normal. Urahara thought as he kissed you with such hunger. His lips moved in tandem with yours, fighting for dominance and easily winning it. He thought your touch was intoxicating? Your lips were far more dangerous. They were downright hallucinogenic. It was as if they were laced with a poison that seeped immediately into his system that made the depraved lust he had for you, increase a thousandfold.

This was definitely not normal.

Your spiritual energy was increasing too, it felt like a weighted velvet blanket on his body, getting heavier and heavier. Not heavy, almost, joining with his? How was this possible?

Thinking wasn’t easy, not when he had the beautiful neighbour he’s been dreaming and fantasising of on top of him. His hands moved on their own, feeling and tracing your curves, cupping your soft breasts, and feeling their weight against his palms. This was better than he imagined you felt. It couldn’t compare.

Urahara pulled away to catch his breath. His chest rose and fell quickly while you kissed the spot on his neck that you had marked before and lowered yourself, leaving kisses along his chest and his abdomen. His breath hitched when he felt your chin brush the hem of his pants. His eyes snapped open to look down and were met with dark clouded eyes staring prettily up at him, lashes fluttering with each blink.

“Watching me from your bedroom isn’t enough is it?”

You knew? Fuck. For how long?

“You caught me,” he chuckled, petting your head adoringly. “No point in lying to you, is there?”

You shook your head with a sly, cheeky smile. “You don’t have to lie to me, Kisuke.” You untie the strings to his pants, the hem loosening easily. “Have you thought about this?”

His breath got caught in his throat. Your hand pressed against his erection through the fabric. “Y-yes. C’mon, sweetheart. Don’t tease me. I thought you weren’t playing any games with me?”

“I’m not.” You shimmied his pants down along with his boxers, cock springing freely from the constraints of the fabric.

Urahara hissed when the cool air kissed the leaking head of his cock. Was he always this sensitive? Before he could say anything, your tongue licked a stripe along his length, dreamy eyes staring up at him with lust. You enjoyed his reactions. He looked so pretty like this, cheeks flushed, eyes droopy with desire, and hair all tousled. You continued your ministrations, running your tongue once more at his perfectly sized length before kissing the cute pink head of his cock, the precum already making your senses vibrate crazily.

Like you had suckled on the strawberry popsicle the first time he had you over, your lips wrapped prettily around him, your tongue hot against his cock as you swirled it over his sensitive head.

“Keep going, sweetheart. F-fuck,” he softly moaned out. His words encouraged you and the gentle brush of his thumb along your brow made you happily take him deeper. His fingers tighten in your hair as he groaned in bliss. He was hot and heavy against your tongue, and the natural condition of your entity enjoyed the musky taste of him.

Urahara’s fantasies were incomparable to this. He was already losing his mind at the hot warmth of your mouth and the rhythmic bobbing of your head along his cock. A sharp delightful shiver ran up and down his spine when he felt his tip touch the back of your throat, you gagged cutely and he looked down at you to make sure you were okay. He was brought immediately closer to the edge when he drank in the sight of your glossy eyes staring up at him with an adorable furrow of your brows. This was far better than he imagined.

His moans left him freely, and his hand on your head continued to pet you as he felt the tension in his spine tighten. You could feel yourself get wetter just at the sight of him. Touching him and finally pleasuring him, was heightening your sensitivity. The ache in your core was painfully sweet and you couldn’t help but moan around his length, completely aware of how the vibrations affected him.

Urahara swore under his breath, unable to hold back the following thrusts of his hips as his orgasm bursts through his body. He felt as if broke through the cottony haze he had been under, only to sink right back in and further down once more. He could feel the way your tongue moved as he remained still inside, and the movement of your throat as you swallowed his cum with your eyes shut in bliss. What an obscene picture.

He felt your spiritual energy increase again. The little clarity he was able to gather after climaxing helped give his brain enough time to form full thoughts and assess the situation.

Watching you pull back, you detached yourself, cock slipping from your lips with a soft pop. You licked along your lips with a satisfied smile, like a cat who just got the cream. Which you kinda …did. The way you glowed intensified, and your aura had completely changed.

“You’re not human aren’t you?” He caught his breath, analysing his senses. It wasn’t a question that he needed an answer to.

“You’re not human too.” You simply answered back, climbing on top of him. His cock, half hard, slotting between your warm slit.

“You’re feeding off my reiatsu.”

“Something like that,” you smiled, intertwining your fingers with his. “I can’t exactly feed off just any kind of reiatsu.” You slowly rocked back and forth, Urahara feeling the wetness of your pussy coating him. His hands gripped yours, his eyes rolling back at the heat of your folds. God, he wanted to be inside you.

“Sexual reiatsu then?”

“Mhm.” You hummed, gasping when the tip of his cock caught at your entrance. You lifted your hips a little higher. “S-something like tha—.” You cut off with a moan as you sunk down a little, taking in the head of his length. He felt better than you could ever imagine.

Urahara felt that at this moment, he had more control than you did. Your fingers were squeezing him, your thighs were quivering with need and your face, your pretty face, was trying so hard to focus. You looked as if you were losing all resolve, completely crumbling apart with lust. He watched you intently, refusing to miss a single thing as you sank down on him, taking him into your tight, velvety heat that‘s got him aching hard again.

Bottomed out, your head fell forward. You took a couple of breaths as you allowed yourself time to adjust. It has been a while since you’ve laid with anyone, you almost hated yourself for tearing away the euphoric feeling of connecting your body to someone. Even so, with him, it was different. You didn’t just want to have him once and leave it at that. You wanted to have him. Completely. God, his reiatsu feeding yours was overwhelming. You could cry at how good he feels.

His voice pierced through the rapturous screaming of your body. He said your name so sweetly. That gentle and teasing coo of your name that had you weak in the knees.

“Look at me.”

Without a second thought, you did as he said. His larger hands squeezed yours in a reassuring manner and you felt as if your heart was going to burst at that action. You met his gaze, the once dwindling remnants of your energy almost fully replenished after months. Urahara was met with the pink pattern in your irises in full glow. Everything but you was a blur of colours. The effect your being had on him was akin to a drug that heightened every pleasurable sensation and kept you and him in a haze of warm lavender.

If his assumptions were correct, then he was one lucky and unfortunate bastard.

“Show me who you really are.” He untangled one hand to caress your cheek, the soft touch making you lean into his palm.

How could you not give him everything he wanted? His reiatsu was sweet, warm, and enveloping. It was delicious. You felt intoxicated by it and ever since your skin touched his, you knew you drew him into your web.

Urahara moaned when you rolled your hips, his cock hugged by your velvety walls, and he cussed when you took his thumb into your pretty little mouth. He blinked a couple of times, fighting the urge to rock into you as he wanted to see your true form. Your kind was rare, very rare. In fact, many shinigami believed your kind to be just a myth and a fantasy of depraved men.

The sun had begun to set and the golden hour illuminated your skin. Its rays glared at his eyes once more and when his eyes adjusted again, he caught the shape of two horns curling by the side of your head like a crown and stretched wide behind you were the most majestic set of wings, a shade of deep purple. Your eyes were shut as his thumb swiped your lower lip. Were you embarrassed?

“Didn’t I tell you to look at me?” He chuckled and you adorably blinked your eyes open, lashes fluttering. God, you were so cute. He can’t hold himself back anymore.

Gently with his strength, he switched your positions. Your back landed on the soft mattress of your bed, taking you by surprise that your wings had contracted into themselves. His hands held your hips as he hoisted them onto his thighs, lifting them up. You stared at him, eyes wide. His thumb spread apart your puffy lips, humming satisfactorily at how it glistened with slick.  When he returned his gaze to your face only to find it hidden behind your hands, he found it endearing that you were being shy especially since it was in your nature…

“What’s wrong?” He asked, rubbing his length between your folds, collecting your slick before guiding his head to your entrance, merely kissing with the tip. You whined into your hands at the feeling, hips wriggling for more. “Talk to me, Y/N-channn.”

“I-I have never shown anyone…” you peaked through your fingers, his ash blonde hair prettily a mess over his eyes as he looked at you with such a gentle look, a contrast to your former lover from a hundred years ago whose face had contorted in horror in a rare blood moon. “…shown anyone at will…”

“You hide this cute form of yours?” He pushed the head of his cock in, turned on by the way your back arched at just him entering you.

He sighed out in bliss, sinking slowly, inch by inch feeling the warmth of your walls hug him. It was heavenly. God, he was never going to get enough of you. There’s so much he wanted to do to you. This was just the tip of the iceberg.

“K-kisuke,” you whimpered, not satisfied with him just remaining still inside you. You needed more.

"What's gotten you so submissive, hm?" He teased, taking his thumb and massaging your clit. The pressure made you moan. "You were the one who started all this." He drew his hip back a little to shallowly rock in and out of you. His own moan accompanied yours, your walls contracting needily around him.

He was right. You were the one who started this but now you were melting in his touch, helplessly needing his touch. You believed it was the strength of his reiatsu. It was stronger than any human you've played with to just get enough energy to keep your powers available to you. His sexual reiatsu, unlike humans, felt as if you had no way of depleting it, it was making your senses and your lustful need increase a thousandfold.

"P-please, I need you." You whimpered, your hands no longer hiding your face. They fell to your side as you gripped your sheets, the slow rocking of his hips, the slow sensation of his cock scraping your walls, was driving you insane. You wanted it in full force, not like this, this was torture. If it had been just another human, you would've maintained full control. He was different.

"You beg just as cute as I thought." He smiled at you, hands gripping your hips tight. "I still have questions." Though he was stalling from giving you what you want, enjoying the obscene sight of your body shivering and aching for pleasure, and your cute lewd face, he was using everything in him to not just fuck you senseless in your bed.

"I'll answer anything you ask after!" You cried out, the burning ache in your core too much. You needed the sweet burst of relief to wrack your body, you needed the vulgar rapture of fucking to ruin you. "Just, please, please, use me as you wish." You never begged any of your victims like this.

The sweet sound of your voice pleading him like that deepened his desire for you. He'll show you just how much he's been wanting you all this time.

He drew his hips back, almost leaving the velvet heat of your walls. You were about to whine, thinking he was going to tease you to no end but no. Like a man starved, like a dog in heat, he drove back into you, fully sheathing himself again, and regulated a rough and fast pace.

Your lips parted in a silent scream, that tingling and electrifying feeling you’ve deprived yourself of in the full flux of your energy for years, sent strong, crashing waves of pleasure throughout your body. It was euphoric. Each deep stroke had your toes curling and your eyes shutting in pure bliss. Every nerve receptor was on overdrive and made the right coiling feeling in your tummy contract further.

You didn’t care about the lewd moans that left your lips or the obscene sound of skin slapping on skin and the wet squelching of your pussy as Urahara pounded into you. That burning ache within you was being scratched and god, why did his cock feel so good. 

Urahara was relentless. He drew his hips back and drove them back in in a crazed frenzy, chasing his own high and addicted to the warm plush walls of your pussy squeezing him. His own groans and pleasurable moans melded with yours, the two of you a hot sticky mess of sex.

Even in the daze of carnal lust, he made sure to enjoy the pornographic sight of you on his bed, puffy pussy lips split apart by his cock and tits bouncing with each collision of his hips against yours. You were so out of it too. Your cute little tongue poked out just a bit between your lips and your eyes couldn’t even stay open, you were just spiraling in pure pleasure.

He brought one of your legs over his shoulder, angling himself in a way he could rut in you deeper. “K-Kisuke!” You screamed his name out so sweetly, his cock head kissing your g-spot repeatedly. You were just a mess of arousal. He could feel how wet you were by the way you coat his cock and even drip over his thighs and the bed. It was downright dirty. And it was all for him.

“F-fuck,” he swore to himself, thrusting endlessly, feeling a tightness in the base of his spine. He was dangerously close and it didn’t help that you were too. Your walls were hugging him tighter and you messily continued to get wetter, his cock scraping your walls over and over emitting sloppy wet sounds.

You could feel him get harder inside you and you bit your lip at how delicious that felt. He looked so pretty when he fucked you. His cheeks were pink and his skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. Your release was growing nearer and nearer. Sweet refrains of his name continued to leave your lips, begging and pleading for more, and telling him how good he felt which encouraged him to fuck you harder.

His hand caressed your lower tummy, pressing his palm against where his cock was inside of you. The pressure made you keen, your fingers gripping the sheets now.

Urahara was completely focused on the beautiful creature you were, wanting nothing more than to make you his and be the only one to hear your sweet moans. To be the one who would make those cute lewd expressions form on your pretty face. The only one to see just how beautiful you are.

His thumb finds your throbbing pearl and massaged it in circular motions. You cried out in pleasure, the added stimulation making you tip over the edge. Your walls gripped his cock tight making it almost impossible to pull out as your body convulsed. Your lips were parted and your eyes were shut as pleasure shot through you like electricity. Your hips were shaking as you came all over him, your sweet honey spilling forth as he shallowly thrusts, his balls tightening.

“F-fuck, tell me where to cum, sweetheart.” He tried to control the quick rhythm of his hips that was moving desperately to empty himself into you.

Urahara searched for your face through the curtain of his blond hair over his eyes. Your hair was strewn over your face as you panted, hips shaking and soft breasts bouncing with his movement. He needed your answer and he hoped it was the one he wanted.

“I-inside.” You sighed dreamily, watching him through heavy lidded eyes. You moved your leg over his shoulder to join the other in wrapping around his waist, trapping him in place to uphold your answer.

The symbol in your irises was glowing pink. You held out your arms, inviting him into them and he leaned forward, crashing his lips into yours as he did. He kissed you deeply, driving his cock hard and fast, focused on the hot grip of your pussy around his throbbing and aching cock. Your arms were wrapped around him as you kissed him back, moving your lips in perfect tandem with his.

Your body was still electrified from your orgasm and the continuous sensation of his cock rocking in and out of you was sending you into overdrive. You wouldn’t be truly satisfied til you had his seed anywhere on you and even better inside of you.

With a couple more thrusts and giving it all in his final one, the tightness in the base of his spine, exploded. You moaned into his mouth as you felt heat shoot inside of your womb, it made your eyes roll back in ecstasy. Urahara kept himself hoisted up as he emptied his balls, groaning as he felt your walls milk his cock. How salacious your pussy was, he had thought. You were going to drive him crazy.  He remained still inside of you, relishing in the sweet victorious sensation of fulfilling one of his dirty fantasies.

He peppered kisses along your neck as your bodies remained pressed against one another. This wasn’t anything he’d experienced before. It was definitely out of this world. 

“You feel so good, Kisuke.” You hummed sweetly, petting his head as the two of you laid side by side now on your bed.

He rested his head on the pillow of your breasts, his arms draped over your abdomen as yours and his legs remained tangled with one another. The climax of both your highs lingered longer than expected and you two cuddled as you both recovered from the raw mindless fucking you two indulged in. 

“The things you do to me, woman.” He let out a sigh, though a little tired, his cock twitched to life wanting to bury itself inside you once more.

You giggled. “You can ask me anything you like. I did. promise you.” You lovingly pet him, your heart tied to this man.

“You’re no normal cutie neighbor that’s for sure,” he concluded, light-heartedly. He caressed your side. “How long have you starved yourself?”

You didn’t expect that…he almost sounded pained to have asked that.

“A while…”

“Myths say your kind needs semen to survive.” He couldn’t help but think of how he came inside of you as he said that.

“That myth is partially wrong.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “We don’t need it to survive. We feed off sexual reiatsu that is emitted when we engage in any kind of sexual activity with a man. The semen is the most potent form of a man’s sexual reiatsu.”

“Which means?” He was honestly curious. He adjusted his position so he could comfortably look at you as you spoke while still holding you close.

“To put it simply, to us, it’s like an energy shot. A very addicting, delicious, energy shot that our bodies happily respond to.” You explained, your cheeks warm. You couldn’t help but be flushed by him. He was gazing up at you as you spoke to him about the ways of your kind. It was unnatural and you expected a far more negative reaction, not this sweet adoration in his eyes.

“How come I’m not depleted of my reiatsu ?”

“B-because…I don’t want to.” Your voice trailed off, getting softer.

“How long have you abstained?”

“For quite sometime now. I didn’t want to continue feeding off humans…they will...have deteriorated if they kept relations with me.”

Urahara could hear the pain in your voice. You found your very being to be a curse. He assumed you had stopped because of your soft heart but that was dangerous of you to do to yourself.

Silence fell before the two of you, there was a far-off look in your eyes and he wondered about how lonely you must’ve been. You’ve probably never had the chance to really have a relationship with a human man. To be in love.

Oh, the thought made his heart ache. Luck for you, he wasn’t a human. He could fulfill all your needs if you asked him to.

“What happens if you keep continuing to…um…see… the same man? Besides deterioration.” He asked, breaking you away from your trance.

You knew what he insinuated.

“O-oh…well…I would form a bond with him but in the past, I'd always chose not to feed off the same man twice. So I never bonded with any of them. ”

“And how will you know if this bond has formed?”

He was asking very specific questions but you didn’t think much of it. Though you haven’t even formed a bond yet, you felt your heart was chained to him. You wanted him all to yourself.

“A very special mark would show up right here,” you took his hand and placed it a couple of centimetres below your navel, low and close to the apex of your mound.

Urahara followed your hand and stared at the smooth, unmarked skin.

“Kisuke…”

He’ll never get tired of you saying his name.

“Yes?” He looked at you once more. His pretty little goddess.

“What are you really? Your reiatsu is different from a human. It’s stronger and there’s so much of it.” You cupped his cheek. “You’re no ordinary shopkeeper.”

He didn’t feel the need to hide the truth from you. You had shown him your true form, which he didn’t understand why you were ashamed of. To him, it was cute and sexy. Every man’s sick fantasy.

The playful and aloof facade he always wore, faded. His eyes were serious now but still gazed at you gently. The tone of his voice was no longer in the usual happy melodious tune he took. “I was once a soul reaper, my dear.”

You blinked, surprised at the revelation that explained his reitasu being different from anyone you’ve ever met. You knew of shinigami , you see them in Karakura town both in their true form where other humans can’t see them, and in their gigai . You didn’t expect your handsome, cute but pervy, neighbour to be one.

“I see.” Was all you said, still holding the man in your arms who comfortably remained in your warm embrace, his own limbs draped over your own.

Your brows furrowed when you felt him slip away, sitting up beside you, his broad muscular back flexing as he did.

“Kisuke?” You sat up too, on your knees.

He glanced at the call of your name and shuddered at the cute sight before him. Naked skin glimmering, cute eyes staring at him, little cute horns curled on each side of your head and your wings relaxed behind you, had him enchanted by you once again. He was down bad. Very, very bad.

He sighed, turned to face you, and inched close. His surroundings were clear of that haze your energy created. The entirety of your room was clear and no longer blurry, yet this invisible glowing halo on you still remained.

“The sun has set.”

Was he leaving? Your heart cracked at the thought. You didn’t want to use your powers to keep him, you wanted him but you wanted him to want you for you of his own volition. “Y-yes it has.”

“We shouldn’t…” He looked down, his hair falling over his eyes.

You understood. A little ashamed, dejected even, you slowly brought the sheets up to your chest, covering yourself as you bit your trembling lip, waiting for words that would feel like a knife pierced your chest.

“We shouldn’t waste any time then.” Urahara nodded, as he came to a decision about whatever he thought.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

In a flash, you found yourself, torso down on the bed with a pillow underneath you to keep you comfy while his hands firmly gripped your hips, hoisting it up. You yelped at the sudden position, feeling the remnants of  Urahara’s seed unloaded into you that didn’t fit in your womb anymore, leaked out of your messy slicked hole.

“Oh wow, how messy.” He teased and then blinked. “You didn’t tell me you had this cute tail!” From the base of your spine and extended was a slender black serpentine tail.

His reiatsu was insane. One encounter with him replenished your powers and awakened your true form. No one ever had this effect on you. And he thought this form, horns, wings, and tail were cute?!

"Ah!" A ticklish shudder ran up and down your spine. The sound that left you was a mix between a moan and a yelp. "D-don't do that." You whimpered, legs shaking.

"Do what?" He played innocently, fingers trailing over where your tail connected to your spine. He was enjoying having you under his control. Then repeated what he did again, watching the way your thighs shook and your cute pink pussy pulse.

"Don't pull at it!" You whined, feeling embarrassed. You've never, ever, dared to be seen in your true form. You buried your face into the pillow and Urahara was screaming internally at how adorable you were.

"Awe, I'm sorry." He pouted, caressing gently the base of your spine. "Why are you hiding?"

"I-I'm just not used to being seen like this."

"But you're sooo cute, like this." He replied, pressing himself against you, slowly rubbing his hardening length between your folds making you mewl.

"Y-you want to..." you panted, losing yourself at the friction of his cock rubbing your clit. You wanted him again and more if he was able. You didn't want to tire him out. "...again?"

"I told you didn't I?" He popped the head of his cock into your pussy once more, slowly filling you up inch by inch. "We shouldn't waste any time." Urahara groaned, balls deep inside you once more with the gorgeous view of your back curved with your plush ass against him.

You squealed into the pillow, unashamedly pushing your hips further back to feel him deeper.

"By the end of the night, Y/N-chan," he huskily spoke, gently tugging at your tail. The action made you squeeze around him deliciously, arousal tickling your whole body. "We're gonna make sure I leave that mark."

  if you enjoyed my works and you’re feeling generous, you can tip me on ko-fi!

[tanis-fics]

You're gonna go far, kid

The FBC and the Oldest House were dangerous waters to thread and Barry knew that, luckily he could find kinship in an old acquaintance, a girl he met on his former band's glory days who would grow up to be more important than any of them ever expected.

Relationships: Jesse Faden & Barry Wheeler ♦ Words: 1873 ♦ Notes: Partly based on this post by @lostinthewoodsomewhere

[on ao3] ♦ [on squidgeworld] ♦ [read on site]

 The mess hall of the FBC was a crowded place, a neutral zone of sorts where people from all the different departments could meet with one another, eat and wind down. In any other moment Barry Wheeler wouldn't mind the crowd, he would quickly grab something to eat and move somewhere quiet to review what he'd worked on so far, or, most likely, he would use that time to preen and show off whoever his client was at the moment. This particular mess hall, however, was one of the very few places he didn't fear the floor would eat him alive, and it had been some time since he had any particular clients. Not ones he wanted to flaunt over, at least.

 Hard to preen when the stupid dress code kept his options limited too, he sighed, annoyed, as he tried making a beeline to the cafeteria, when a figure standing up knocked him off his feet.

 "Sorr—"

 "Hey, watch where you're fucking—" He hissed, grabbing the couple files that flew off his hands before glancing at the other person, instantly feeling the sense of familiarity attributed to a déjà vu until the realization hit him. He was talking to the woman whose portrait adorned every hall. "Shit, sh- I- I'm sorry, ma'am. Miss?" She was younger than he anticipated. "Boss. Didn't see you there."

 The Director simply raised an eyebrow, unimpressed and possibly irked, and Barry cursed in silence for making a fool of himself in front of the only person here who was worth a damn.

 "It's fine. Just try to be more careful next time." Her tone was dry and he bit his tongue.

 “Will do.”

 Barry thought —hoped— that that would be it, that she would excuse herself and march forward to wherever she was going to when she bumped into him, but before she could turn away the Director did a double take and squinted. Barry stood in high alert as she scrutinized him.

 "Have I seen you before?"

 Barry stared like a deer in the headlights. If the only way he had known her face was because of those portraits the chances of her knowing him were slim at best, unless she recognized him because of what happened in Cauldron Lake, which would be potentially disastrous.

 "Nope, no, I don't think—" The Director kept squinting at him as he dragged his words, until she looked to the side for a second and then snapped her fingers.

 "You were with the Old Gods of Asgard a few years ago, weren't you?"

 Suddenly, surprisingly, Barry felt like he could breath again.

 It had been more than a couple of years, but he could work with that. A tentative smile grew on his lips, the green Communications Agent being replaced by the seasoned Band Manager.

 "I was with them, yeah!” He puffed his chest, wishing he was wearing something more impressive than a white shirt and an ugly, simple tie. “I managed the band for a couple years during their revival tour. You’ve ever been to one of the concerts? Because if you did, you’ve probably seen me there. Yeah, you definitely know me from those." The Director chuckled, and Barry could see some of her stiffness washing away.

 “I wish.” She shook her head. “I never got around to actually seeing them live, unfortunately. But one time, they… they actually showed up at work, my previous work. Got into a pretty nasty fight too.” Barry winced at the memories of having to tail them down night after night, of having to break up fights and pay for whatever was broken this time, but her smile spoke of nothing more than fondness. "You, uh, you gave me a free t-shirt back then."

 Barry snorted. Of course he did.

 Chasing that feeling of familiarity beyond the aforementioned portraits of directorial sobriety he tried recalling where exactly he saw that same red hair before, and was met with a couple matching wide eyes behind a counter. Wide eyes and a grin. Barry remembered being surprised at her happiness despite the mess. Not many people glowed whenever two ancient men started breaking tables around them.

 Funny thing was, she also seemed to be glowing a bit now. Or maybe it was just a trick of the light. Either way, he hummed.

 "Y’know, I think I remember…” He scratched his chin, deep in thought. “Yeah, weren’t you working at some bar? Wasn’t there a guy…?

 Who was, if memory served, very close to harassing her, or at the very least annoying her. Barry never finished hearing the full story, truth be told, the only people present being the old rockers themselves, but according to their drunken ramblings the man had been hitting on her the entire time they’ve been there despite her clear lack of interest. He remember wondering whether the reason why she hadn’t tell him off was because she really, really needed the job, because even at the time she’d seemed perfectly capable of handing herself if things got hairy.

 Which they did, at the time.

 According to Odin he confronted the man and next thing they knew all hell broke loose, a push here, a push back, a glass being thrown around and a bottle shattering against the wall. Usual Anderson stuff, all things considered.

 “Didn’t Tor smash a table on that guy’s back? I remember having to pay for… a number of things.” At least not for her silence. That was what the shirt had been for originally, of course, but Barry would be lying if he said her surprising excitement hadn’t brought a smile to his face in that mess of a night.

 Now it was her turn to wince a bit.

 "Yup. That was me behind the bar. And I’m pretty sure he had to go to the hospital afterwards."

 “Shouldn’t have messed with my boys. Or been a creep, for that matter.” Barry chuckled, before raising an eyebrow. “You... didn’t get in trouble for that lil’ stunt, did you?”

 “Oh, I did.” The woman wrinkled her nose and squinted, thinking back to that time. “Even with all the money you gave me for repairs they still kicked me out.”

 “Fuckin’ bastards.” She huffed, rolling her eyes.

 “Tell me about it. But hey,” shrugging, she pointed at the building above, “got a pretty cool promotion.” He laughed.

 "I can tell! Say, speaking of, how does the under payed waitress from some shitty bar end up as the Director of a secret organization? No offense, of course."

 After a pause, she shrugged.

 "None taken, just came knocking at the right time, I guess. What's a band manager doing in the FBC?"

 His smile cracked for a second, flashes of nightmares that might or might not been real flooding his head before coughing.

 "Oh you know. This and that. I've always been a big fan of the supernatural." He lied.

 The Director looked at him, humming, and for a second Barry thought she was looking through him. Or looking at something behind him? He ignored the impulse to turn his head. This was a test of character and Barry Wheeler could handle it, God dammit. He also knew he couldn’t tell her about his search of anything relating to Bright Falls. To Al. As much as he was fond of the woman, his smile shinning with pride despite the very short time they’ve known each other, he simply couldn’t trust her nor the FBC. Not yet at least. So many things were redacted and behind closed doors, he couldn't, as she put it, simply come knocking. Couldn't he?

 The woman finally opened her mouth to say something, when a third voice distracted her.

 "Jesse!" Jesse? A blond woman with a notepad called at the end of the hall —Barry swore he’d seen her at the Communication Department at some point. Wasn't she one of the Heads of something else?— and the Director replied with a warm smile and a raise of the hand.

 Blondie couldn’t have come at a better time.

 "Well! I won't hold you any longer, Boss." He clapped his hands with finality, taking a step back and holding out one before him out of habit. "Barry Wheeler, at your service."

 Maybe he couldn't ask her right away, but getting in the woman on top’s good graces seemed to be a good idea (better than come guns blazing to a place that could easily kill him by itself, at least). He didn't realize the small wrinkle on her forehead at the name, close to recognition.

 "Jesse Faden." She eventually replied, shaking his hand. Before she could finally make her way out, though, Barry saw a flicker of something on her eyes. "By the way, do you... by any chance do you have any Old Gods shirts left? I know it's a long shot, it's been a while, but-"

 "Hey, I get it. The only thing those rags are good for after eight years is to use as pajamas.” He reassured her. “Don’t worry, I also pop a new one from the pile I couldn’t get to sell from time to time." She —Jesse— chuckled, but a heavy shadow replaced the brief amusement on her eyes.

 "It's not for me, actually, it's... it’s for my brother. He..." For a moment, she seemed to be at loss for words, lowering her eyes for the first time in that conversation, before smiling back at him. “He used to be a big fan of the Old Gods too. I’d love to give him anything from them.”

 Barry wasn't unaware of the looks people around them have been giving them since they’ve first crashed against each other, he remembered what it felt to be around such focal point of gravity, but something about her last request stroke a chord in their vicinity that he couldn't help but wonder about. Something about her brother, clearly. Something rather significant. He'd have to check that out later, but for now, he smiled. Maybe a bit more honest at the admission.

 "I'm sure I can find a couple t-shirts left. And a CD too! If... you still have anything to listen to it."

 Jesse laughed, and for a moment Barry was taken back to that shifty dead-end bar, and the mighty Director became the girl with stars on her eyes.

 "I know someone that might. Thanks."

 "The pleasure is all mine, Boss."

 And just like that Jesse —the Old Gods of Asgard fan— —the Director— walked away with the blonde woman, and Barry finally got to grab his lunch, with the particular glow of someone who’d seen an old friend.

 It would be much later that he would come to realize that if they actually had, in fact, any information of Alan and whatever that might or might have not happened in Cauldron Lake, maybe going around saying his full name might not have been the brightest of ideas.

 Barry was lucky, then, that if there was a person who understood what it was to walk into the lion’s den for a chance to see their loved one again, it was the same girl he met by happenstance after that random pub brawl so many years ago.

[avvail-whumps]

Royal Bought: Hunting Deer #1

masterlist · next

content warnings: animal hunting, mentioned vampire whump

It was so quiet in the forest. 

Luke couldn’t even hear the sound of his own, soft, even breathing as he concentrated on the taut pull of the bow string, methodically following the small trot of the deer. It was beautiful - its slender neck leaned down to sniff at the ground, ears twitching occasionally. 

He didn’t even blink, fearing even a flutter of his eyelashes would send the deer scurrying away. It lifted its head back, big, beady eyes observing its surroundings, before Luke struck. He let go of the arrow, and the deer didn’t have time to dart away before it landed in its neck, and he heard the distinctive thud of its body on the ground. 

Luke finally let himself breathe deeply, rising to his feet. The bushes around him rustled as he climbed over them, the snapping of twigs filling the expanse of the desolate forest as he approached with long strides. 

The deer was still breathing, and he gently set his bow down, dropping to one knee beside the creature. His hand gently lay across its torso, feeling the panicked, but slowing rise and fall of its ribcage as it took its final breaths. Luke squeezed his necklace, stroking the creature with such tenderness, staring at his reflection in its eye. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice small. The deer’s eyes clouded, and the animal beneath his hand went still. Luke sucked in a deep breath, letting go of his necklace and shucking off his bag. He made quick work of tying its legs, strapping the heavy creature over his back with practiced ease. 

He picked up his bow, and started making his way back before it got dark. The camp came into view quickly enough when he followed the markings he’d left to help him navigate the forest, and as he came down the hill, he noticed Ten sprinting towards him with his stumbling legs and big grin on his face. 

“Luke,” Ten squealed, circling around him to get a look at the deer on his back. “You hunted a deer!” 

Ten was an energetic kid, with his shaggy brown hair and freckled face. It was going to be his eleventh birthday tomorrow, and had insisted that Luke take him out for his first hunting lesson - the kid refused anyone else, and honestly, Luke was flattered. Ten was like a little brother to him, and he always felt happy that the kid admired him so much. 

“Don’t touch it,” he chastised, waving him in front of him where he could see, ushering him back to the camp. “That would be disrespectful.” 

“Oh, tell me you’re gonna save it for tomorrow,” Ten exclaimed, clasping his hands together as he added an energetic spring to his step, skipping backwards. “Please, please.” 

Luke rolled his eyes, playfully shoving him through the gate and back into the camp. A few people greeted him on the way in, and Ten had to pick up his pace in order to match his strides. 

“We’ll have to see what Rian says, alright?” He offered. “But don’t get your hopes up.” 

Ten pouted. “He’ll say no.” 

“Then you’ll have to live with that.” 

After passing off the deer to Rian, the bearded man gave him an appreciative thanks, yet Luke could sense there was indifference in his eyes as he glanced at the white spots on the deer’s neck. Luke had thought he’d been about to mention something about the forest, but he didn’t, and he swiftly left the tent with a sigh of relief. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Luke smiled, squinting as the sun spilled back over him. Ten immediately beamed up at him. 

“You’ll take me hunting with you?” 

He patted his head, shaking his head softly. Even if he was turning eleven years old tomorrow, that was not old enough to hunt anywhere, let alone the surrounding forests. As much as he knew how much Ten wanted to leave the camp, it was incredibly dangerous. He could never let him. He pushed open the flap of his tent, motioning for Ten to come inside. 

He happily made himself comfortable on the furs of his bed, and Luke couldn’t help but smirk softly. “No. I have something even better.” 

He leaned down behind one of the storage boxes, and carefully lifted up something wrapped in cloth. Ten sat up ethustically, his nose up in the air as he tried to lean to the side to get a good view of it. Luke unwrapped the string, peeling the cloth open to reveal a small, newly crafted bow. Ten gasped, shooting to his feet. 

“Is that a—” 

“Yes,” Luke smiled. 

“And that’s for me?” 

He chuckled. “Of course. Too small for me, isn’t it?”

The kid went to snatch it, but then stuck his hands back to his sides, and tried again. This time, he was a lot slower, cradling the bow like it was glass in his hands. His wide eyes were staring at it in shock, as if he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Luke had sacrificed a lot to craft this bow for Ten. He was just glad that he liked it so much. 

“This is…amazing,” he breathed in awe, gently running his finger along the intricate carvings. Luke’s fingers ached just remembering how long it had taken. “What do these mean?” 

He tilted his head, pointing to the first one. “This symbol here is for bravery. This one is my mother’s. As long as you have it near you, it will always give you strength, and you’ll know that you’re not alone. Sometimes, it helps if you find things difficult. It’s like a comfort.” 

Ten slowly nodded his head, taking in everything he was saying. He kept the bow close, lips curling into a giddy smile, as if just realising that it was really going to belong to him. 

“You’ll teach me how to use it tomorrow, right?” He beamed, grinning from ear to ear. Luke nodded his head. 

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Of course I will.” 

Ten’s eyes glistened a little, and he threw his arms aroun Luke’s torso, burying himself into him in a tight hug. Luke’s heart skipped a beat, wrapping his arms around him in turn and giving his messy hair a small ruffle, chuckling softly under his breath. Ten squeezed him tight, as tightly as he could manage, and he didn’t even think about peeling away until a sharp voice called out his name. 

“Luke.” 

Ten lifted his head, and Luke swiftly rose to his feet, placing his hands on Ten’s shoulders just as a woman breached the tent, her expression stern and wrinkled in anger. Luke grit his teeth; he had a feeling he knew what this was about. 

“The Collared Forest, Luke,” Emily hissed, her words dripping with fracticousness. “Where were you thinking?” 

Rian, then. Of course he would tell her. Luke gave a quiet sigh, trying to keep his voice calm. “The deers are complacent. No one lives out there.” 

“You know why we don’t hunt there, Luke,” she snapped harshly. Emily was a tall woman, black braided hair and brown coloured skin. Her eyes were even a strange sort of hazel, almost making them seem orange when the sunlight hit them at a certain angle. It was fitting, considering she always looked like she had fire in her eyes when she was angry. 

“Emily, there are no vampires in the Collared Forest,” he gritted out. “There haven’t been for years.” 

Under his hand, he felt Ten flinch. His eyes instantly softened upon realising the argument was brewing in front of him, and a wave of regret washed over him. Emily’s eyes narrowed, yet she kept her mouth shut. 

“Ten,” he whispered softly, and the kid’s anxious eyes flitted up to him. “Just wait for me outside, okay? Go and play for a little bit. I won’t be long.” 

Ten swallowed, glancing uneasily at Emily, before she stepped out of the way of the entrance of the tent, closer to Luke. He watched Ten scurry out, leaving the two of them alone. Luke’s eyes instantly narrowed into a small glare. 

“A bow?” Emily breathed, her tone laced with bubbling anger. “You gave him a bow?” 

“It’s his birthday tomorrow.” 

“Don’t encourage another foolish imbecile to go into the Collared Forest.” 

Luke gawked at her. “Jesus, Emily. He’s not even old enough to leave camp. I know my way around the closest area of the forest. God knows we need the meat, unless you want us all to starve.” 

The woman’s lip curled into a snarl. He could sense she was trying not to raise her voice, lest the whole camp hear their argument. “You could have been followed.” 

“Vampires can’t get into the camp,” Luke frowned. “Not unless someone invites them in. You and I both know that no one is stupid enough to do that.” 

“You’re not getting it,” she heaved, prodding a finger against his shoulder as she stepped closer, his feet rooted to the ground. He felt his anger flare, but did nothing. “I don’t want the vampires to know where we are. Don’t you know what happened to the human camp across the Corpse River?”

Corpse River. It was many miles from their camp, and it would take weeks of walking just to make it there. It ran all the way to the kingdom of the vampires, and often, people would see the bloated corpses of dead humans, discarded by the vampires, being carried down by the stream, hence its name. Luke had never travelled far enough - it was forbidden. He wasn’t eager to find out if it lived up to its name or not either. 

On the other side, he was aware there was another human camp. His heart sank a little at the mention of them, swallowing uneasily. 

“What?” He breathed. 

Emily let out a sharp breath through her nostrils, her lips pressing into a thin line. “It was desimated by vampires five days ago. They slaughtered everyone within there.” 

Luke’s tongue went dry. “But, vampires can’t—” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Emily cut off, her brows furrwoing. “They also believed the vampires couldn’t get in. But they did. I will not have the same thing happen to our camp because of you.” 

Luke was still reeling over the fact that their camp had been destroyed. They had everything to ward off vampires, everything to keep them and their powers from straying inside, and their camps had been standing for years upon years. He didn’t know how it was possible. 

“We’re the last human camp,” he murmured softly under his breath, and suddenly the world felt that much smaller. Emily’s eyes softened, just an inch, but it was enough for her gaze to flicker from his face, a deep sigh to fall from her lips. She briefly glanced at the entrance of the tent, before patting his arm once firmly. 

“Stay away from the Collared Forest, Luke,” she warned, her voice firm. Luke bit the inside of his cheek, a grim expression falling across his face. “When we hit a shortage, maybe you should think about teaching Ten to fish instead.” 

She turned away from him, and he watched her go quietly as she left the tent, leaving him alone. His eyes drifted over to his own bow for a few moments, before collapsing down onto his bed, running a weary hand over the back of his skull. It wasn’t a life; being here was living in constant fear, not only of the vampires, but the lack of food and the terrible harvests that were rolling in. Now that the camp across Corpse River had been somehow completely eradicated? 

His hand drifted down to his face, rubbing his eyes. Luke was exhausted - he wasn’t really sure what he should do anymore. It was a cruel world with the existence of vampires, where all they were to them were animals or pets for them to play with. He’d heard horrific horror stories about the lives of human blood bags in the kingdom, and it wasn’t a life he wanted for himself. Luke didn’t want it for anyone. 

As the sun began to dip under the horizon and the sky began to darken, the camp turned in for the night, dousing out their fires and going quiet. Luke struggled to sleep, arms tucked under his head and staring absentmindly at his ceiling. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about what Emily said. 

Eventually, he rolled over, and willed himself to sleep. Just as he began to succumb to the comforting grips of sleep, Ten was quietly sneaking out of his tent, crossing the camp with tiny, soundless steps, his new bow gripped in hand. He had a quiver with a few arrows strapped to his back, squeezing himself through the bars of the gate, before rushing off towards the Collared Forest.

[alexnuit]

A Short Walk

I bounce my shovel against the ground. My garden is dead, and the soil is impenetrable. Dad tells me it’s time. We’re deep in the throes of winter. He’s getting old and we both know it. It hangs over us in every conversation, touching and going. He tires quickly, grabbing at his lower back after long days. I see his pain and try to pick up some of the slack. Chop more wood. Forage more of the dwindling berries and mushrooms he taught me to identify. There’s some pride in his face when I bring those back and I feel good until there’s barely enough for one meal and I’m faced with reality again. He tells me it’s time.

I miss the calm of summer. The lake was home to fish that kept us and the ducks fat and happy. When the deer came by, we would observe while they picked at the grass. Dad’s gun collected dust on the shelf and he stopped asking for back massages for a while. His skin tanned and glowed. His smiles came easier. His sentences were longer. Now the lake is frozen nearly a foot and the ducks have gone south. The cold sinks and pulls his pale face down with it, every smile made with huge effort. Words are grunted out, nods and head shakes replacing most of his speech. The only evidence left of his joy are the crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes.

Living off squirrel meat and bone broth in the weeks past has taken a lot out of both of us and he’s given up on not being pushy with me. It’s for my own good, he says while my eyes turn glossy. I try to get him to look at me, but he’s not interested, responding by dropping a collection of winter gear at my feet. The snowshoes he made for my tenth birthday. My camel hair coat. My fur-lined gloves. I huff. I’ve done this charade before. It worked, before. I get dressed, sighing with every new layer that goes over my underclothes. I stand when I’m finished, pinching my brows together while I look up at him. He takes his rifle off the shelf, palms facing the ceiling while he gestures it out to me.

“Here.”

“I don’t want it.” I’m being difficult. He looks so tired of me.

“Well,” he grabs my wrist, hard, and I yelp, but he only squeezes my hand harder against the barrel, “it’s yours.”

He walks out with his eyes and head fixed in front of him. I follow, squinting at the stark white reflecting into my eyes. The wind slams the plank door behind us, the boom echoing like a gunshot against the logs that make up our walls. My head snaps back at the sound. He’s already ten steps ahead of me by the time I start to walk again. My legs are short, one of his strides counting for nearly three of mine. The snow is soft under my boots and snowshoes. With every step I fear I’ll sink beneath the powder and he’ll be too far away to save me.

---

Once we get past the clearing, it’s dense forest and a skinny path obscured by twigs and thick root structures. We haven’t spoken in ten minutes. I can feel the tip of my nose and ears going numb, protecting me from the shocks of wind that bleed through the woods. I look at my father, at his back. His broad shoulders through a thick coat. His graying hair sticking out of his cap. The way he struggles on one leg as he walks. It was an accident. Spring. He surprised me with a bowl of blueberries, each one a deep indigo, beautifully round and plump. My favorite. I found them sitting on our table, ready for me as soon as I woke up. I ran outside and his back was turned to me when I jumped up to hug him around the neck, holding on as hard as I could. He wasn’t prepared for my weight, and I think I had forgotten that I was too big for things like that now. We both fell into the grass. I don’t remember the strength of his yell. I do remember the crack.

There isn’t much time left in our trek to the lake. The frost is pinching my toes, penetrating through two layers of sock and thick winter boots. I have lost the feeling in my hands. A particularly large root trips me and my palms hit the ground, hard. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even look back at me. Only slows down his steps while I struggle to get up and grab my rifle. I want to make him care. But I can’t pretend I’m about to cry anymore because the pain is too real. I don’t think my tears could do it justice. I focus on the gun, heavy and cold in my hands, like a block of ice seeping through my gloves. I sigh with every other step, breathing hard with my mouth open as the wind stings my eyes. 

I keep thinking about what I’m about to do. The guilt is too much.

“I don’t know why you need me here,” I say. My voice breaks on the first word, getting used to talking again. “You’re better at this stuff anyways.” My legs are burning with every drag against the snow. It’s a weird feeling. I’m sweating and I wish I could take off my jacket, but the cold pushes against my face and I hug it tighter.

He sighs. He loves sighing. “It’s not about better,” he huffs out between steps. I think he’ll say more but he doesn’t.

“Then what?” I hear the whine in my voice.

“It’s about survival.”

I consider his words. We are surviving. It’s never easy in winter, but we get through it. We just need to wait for spring.

I speak. “But we’re fine.”

He doesn’t respond. Only trudges forward.

When we come upon the lake I am spent. My stomach is stabbing me in the left side. I taste blood in my mouth. I look out at the flat space, snow piles decorating the perimeter. I would think it was gorgeous if it weren’t for what was about to happen. We position ourselves behind a large rock, stuck on the edge of the forest.

“Here.” My father hands me a small box of ammunition, his voice hushed. Why are his hands shaking so much?

“I thought it was loaded already,” I say back, whispering.

He looks at me, offended. “No.”

We sit like that for a while, knees pushed into the earth. Watching. Waiting. I’m reminded of more peaceful days. I’m reminded of the ducks. I look over at him, his weathered face. He seems peaceful. Like he’s thinking of them too.

It isn’t long before I feel a tap on my shoulder. He only points. An enormous buck, crossing over from the other side of the forest. He taps me again and makes a ‘five’ with his hand. He’s beautiful. But his movements seem staggered. Tired. The gun’s already loaded. Dad props it up against the rock, slowly. Gentle. Before coaxing me to come grab it from him. My tears are back. Turns out I can cry some more. He doesn’t budge, only pulls me over, firm. My shoulder hits the back of the gun, and the tears aren’t welling anymore, they overflow. I can barely see him. Dad grabs my hand; his thumb rubs across the back of it while he presses my fingers over the trigger.

“Breathe,” he whispers.

My eyes refocus, lining up. Getting my shot. I look and he has so much life left in him, with beauty like nothing else. I see power in his stance, a commanding presence sticking out from the stark white land. But behind that power is fatigue. A need for sleep. My first instinct is to let him suffer longer. My second tells me I’m selfish. I squeeze my hand. First, I hear the bang, echoing against the trees. Then, the birds flee screaming. Finally, the drop, and buckets of blood covering the snow.

[starsarefire824]

moonflower

Chapter 8: Hideout

The Hideout is still as divey as Will would expect, its walls decorated in neon and deer heads. He hasn’t been here in years, but that doesn’t really matter because nothing has changed much since the last time he’s seen it; one strange day when he had been left with his dad, before Lonnie decided to stop coming around for good. The booth he sat in as an eleven year old is still there, tucked away in a dim corner with duct taped leather and water marks littering the wobbly lacquered table.

Peanut shells crunch under his feet, one of the last few places he expects that still allows it. He looks towards the large bar and spots Max in a white tank top behind the counter drying a glass. She smiles when she notices him and Will goes over, suddenly realizing that his buzz has faded.

Max puts the glass away and greets him as he sits down. He shoves away how awkward he feels and forces a smile on his face.

“What can I do you for?” she asks, her smile widening.

“Bourbon?” he orders with a raised brow and tapping nervously at the bar.

Max immediately sets a tumbler in front of him and pours. Will takes it and swigs the entire two fingers down, happy when Max refills his glass without asking.

Will wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and glances around the room, watching various patrons. His eyes settle on a man in dirty tight jeans hanging on the jukebox looking for another song to play for a wasted man and woman sloppily slow dancing and two other men play pool nearby. One looks up as he chalks his stick, his tanned, young face seemingly curious.

There have been rumors about this place for most of Will’s life. What’s….available after a certain time of night. What people will turn a blind eye to.

“You lookin’ for something?” Max asks with a nod of her head towards the pool tables.

Will can’t help the blush that warms his cheeks at his obviousness, but he chuckles softly. “Hmph, I don’t know—” he tells her honestly with a shrug of one shoulder. “I just couldn’t go home yet.”

Max rests both hands on the bar, the ends of her long braids kissing the wood and her milky blue eyes watchful. She squints and ducks her chin, her gaze settling on Will’s exposed neck in his plain, dark tshirt. “Looks like you might have already found somethin’."

The bruise.

Fuck .

[twoidiotwriters1]

The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!! Here is Aphrodite -Danny Words: 2,443 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

XIV: Bonding With the Girls

Hazel's a sweetheart... but if Ara catches her again staring at her like she stole her favorite candy, they will have a problem.

"Well," Ara thinks grumpily, "if Nico had taken her to our camp, it'd be her dating Leo instead—I didn't even like him at first!"

She's not sure that's true, though. When Leo showed up she had no time for romance, but no matter what Ara would've fallen for him. Her fate was written in stone. So why is she feeling like she stole him from Hazel? 

"Hey," she speaks quietly. "Just so you know... I don't want Nico to die."

Hazel sighs. "Percy told me what happened between you two. I understand."

"But I do trust him," Ara eyes her intently. "I'm sorry if I don't show it much. He... he was my friend, I wouldn't wish bad things on him. I'm sorry about Leo as well."

Hazel looks up like a deer in headlights. "What?" The girl gulps. "I mean, why are you sorry?"

"Well, I'm the General," Ara shrugs. "I should keep my army in line. Leo shouldn't bully Frank, I told him not to do it again."

Hazel's shoulders drop with relief. "Oh! Yeah... thanks."

"I want us to get along," Ara bumps her shoulder against hers, which causes Hazel to stumble sideways. "If there's anything else you'd like to talk about, I'm right here."

"Sure!" Hazel smiles, but it looks forced.

"You know, boys stress me out faster than anyone else," Ara tells the rest of the group. "Feels good to be working with you three today."

"But you made peace with Percy yesterday!" Annabeth exclaims.

Ara smiles. "Percy's my brother. I have to call him annoying no matter what."

Her friend chuckles. "Makes sense..."

Ara forgets she wasn't always Percy's sister, she met Annabeth first. But she doesn't feel like she belongs in camp as much as before, and when she's in New York, it doesn't feel right without Percy. Something's missing.

She was friends with Annabeth, now she is Percy's sister, but also the General... Neither here nor there, none of those to their full potential.

The girl stops and points forward. "Our lady in white."

"The ghost," Annabeth squints.

"That's not a ghost," Hazel tries to focus her gaze. "No kind of spirit glows that brightly."

Piper begins to cross the street without saying a word.

"Piper!"

"We'd better follow her," Hazel hurries.

By the time they reach her, Ara recognizes the woman. "Awesome," she groans.

Piper makes a face. "Do we have to?"

The ghostly apparition leaves them no choice as it floats towards them and forms fully. "I'm so glad you're here," Aphrodite beams. "War is coming. Bloodshed is inevitable. So there's really only one thing to do."

"Uh... and that is?"

"Why, have tea and chat, obviously. Come with me!"

The last time Ara had tea with her mother, she received the worst news ever, so to say she isn't looking forward to this is an understatement.

"Oh, my sweet girls," the goddess sighs. "I do love Charleston! The weddings I've attended in this gazebo—they bring tears to my eyes. And the elegant balls in the days of the Old South. Ah, they were lovely. Many of these mansions still have statues of me in their gardens, though they called me Venus."

"Which are you? Venus or Aphrodite?" Annabeth questions.

"Annabeth Chase, you've grown into quite a beautiful young lady. You really should do something with your hair, though. And, Hazel Levesque, your clothes—"

"My clothes?" Hazel examines herself.

"Mother! You're embarrassing us," Piper huffs.

"Well, I don't see why. Just because you don't appreciate my fashion tips, Piper, doesn't mean the others won't. I could do a quick makeover for Annabeth and Hazel, perhaps silk ball gowns like mine—"

"I'll get clothes for them later," Ara intervenes. "Can we please move on?"

Aphrodite cups her cheek. The lavender scent coming out of her soothes the young girl. "I like your eyeliner today, so creative!"

"I..." Ara blushes. "Makeup cheers me up." 

If she'd known they'd be talking to Aphrodite, she would've put less effort into her looks. Blame it on the teenage urge to rebel against her mother.

"To answer your question, Annabeth, I am both Aphrodite and Venus. Unlike many of my fellow Olympians, I changed hardly at all from one age to the other. In fact, I like to think I haven't aged a bit! Love is love, after all, whether you're Greek or Roman. This civil war won't affect me as much as it will the others."

"We're not in a war yet, my lady," Hazel replies.

"Oh, dear Hazel. Such optimism, yet you have heartrending days ahead of you. Of course war is coming. Love and war always go together. They are the peaks of human emotion! Evil and good, beauty and ugliness. That's what I told Ara—and why she became the daughter of Olympus!"

She's never shared the reasons why she became a daughter of Olympus with anyone except Lily and Leo. Ara can feel Annabeth's eyes on her, so she gets back on track. "So could you, uh, elaborate on what those heartrending days may bring to us?"

"Well, Annabeth could give you some idea," the goddess replies. "I once promised to make her love life interesting. And didn't I?"

"Interesting, is a mild way of putting it," Annabeth replies tensely.

"Well, I can't take credit for all your troubles, but I do love twists and turns in a love story. Oh, all of you are such excellent stories—I mean, girls. You do me proud!" Aphrodite pats Ara's cheek. "You're so brave!"

"Mother, is there a reason you're here?" Piper insists.

"Hmm? Oh, you mean besides the tea? I often come here. I love the view, the food, the atmosphere—you can just smell the romance and heartbreak in the air, can't you? Centuries of it. Do you see that rooftop balcony? We had a party there the night the American Civil War began. The shelling of Fort Sumter."

"That's it! The island in the harbor," Annabeth snaps her fingers. "That's where the first fighting of the Civil War happened. The Confederates shelled the Union troops and took the fort." 

"Oh, such a party! A string quartet, and all the men in their elegant new officers' uniforms. The women's dresses—you should've seen them! I danced with Ares—or was he Mars? I'm afraid I was a little giddy. And the beautiful bursts of light across the harbor, the roar of the cannons giving the men an excuse to put their arms around their frightened sweethearts!"

"You're talking about the beginning of the bloodiest war in U.S. history. Over six hundred thousand people died—more Americans than in World War One and World War Two combined—"

"And the refreshments! Ah, they were divine. General Beauregard himself made an appearance. He was such a scoundrel. He was on his second wife, then, but you should have seen the way he looked at Lisbeth Cooper—"

"Mother!" Piper scares a few pigeons away from the table by throwing them bread.

"Yes, sorry. To make the story short, I'm here to help you, girls. I doubt you'll be seeing Hera much. Your little quest has hardly made her welcome in the throne room. And the other gods are rather indisposed, as you know, torn between their Roman and Greek sides. Some more than others. I suppose you've told your friends about your falling-out with your mother?"

She's looking at Annabeth when she says this. Now is her friend's turn to blush.

"Falling-out?" Hazel frowns.

"An argument. It's nothing."

"Nothing! Well, I don't know about that. Athena was the most Greek of all goddesses. The patron of Athens, after all. When the Romans took over... oh, they adopted Athena after a fashion. She became Minerva, the goddess of crafts and cleverness. But the Romans had other war gods who were more to their taste, more reliably Roman—like Bellona—"

"Reyna's mom," Piper says.

"Yes, indeed. I had a lovely talk with Reyna a while back, right here in the park. And the Romans had Mars, of course. And later, there was Mithras—not even properly Greek or Roman, but the legionnaires were crazy about his cult. I always found him crass and terribly nouveau dieu, personally. At any rate, the Romans quite sidelined poor Athena. They took away most of her military importance. The Greeks never forgave the Romans for that insult. Neither did Athena."

"The Mark of Athena," Annabeth leans forward. "It leads to a statue, doesn't it? It leads to... to the statue."

"You are clever, like your mother," Aphrodite smiles. "Understand, though, your siblings, the children of Athena, have been searching for centuries. None has succeeded in recovering the statue. In the meantime, they've been keeping alive the Greek feud with the Romans. Every civil war... so much bloodshed and heartbreak... has been orchestrated largely by Athena's children."

"That's..." Annabeth pauses.

"Romantic?" Aphrodite sighs dreamily. "Yes, I supposed it is."

"But... The Mark of Athena, how does it work? Is it a series of clues, or a trail set by Athena—"

"Hmm. I couldn't say. I don't believe Athena created the Mark consciously. If she knew where her statue was, she'd simply tell you where to find it. No... I'd guess the Mark is more like a spiritual trail of bread crumbs. It's a connection between the statue and the children of the goddess. The statue wants to be found, you see, but it can only be freed by the most worthy."

"And for thousands of years, no one has managed."

"Hold on. What statue are we talking about?" Piper questions.

"Oh, I'm sure Annabeth can fill you in. At any rate, the clue you need is close by: a map of sorts, left by the children of Athena in 1861—a remembrance that will start you on your path, once you reach Rome. But as you said, Annabeth Chase, no one has ever succeeded in following the Mark of Athena to its end. There you will face your worst fear—the fear of every child of Athena. And even if you survive, how will you use your reward? For war or for peace?"

"This map," Annabeth holds onto the edge of her seat, "where is it?"

"Guys!" Hazel gasps.

Giant eagles are coming down to where they are. Aphrodite barely glances up before continuing her conversation. "Oh, the map is at Fort Sumter, of course. It looks like the Romans have arrived to cut you off. I'd get back to your ship in a hurry if I were you. Would you care for some tea cakes to go?" 

"No, but thanks for the help, Lady Aphrodite," Ara gets up and bows.

Piper, Hazel, and Annabeth leave their seats in a hurry, but before Ara can also leave, Aphrodite speaks up. "Janus is looking for you."

The girl comes to a halt and turns to her mother in panic. "What?"

"Don't be rash," is all the goddess tells her before vanishing.

Three eagles deposit a trio of Roman demigods on the dock, one of them is Octavian.

"Surrender to Rome!" He squeals.

"Fat chance, Octavian," Hazel draws out her sword.

Ara stares at the boys like they're gum on her shoe. She doesn't want to fight them, but gods, Octavian is so annoying, she might have trouble not running through him with Almighty.

"Octavian," Piper walks forward with her hands up. "What happened at camp was a setup. We can explain—"

"Can't hear you! Wax in our ears—standard procedure when battling evil sirens. Now, throw down your weapons and turn around slowly so I can bind your hands."

"Did Nico bring this one back?" Ara asks with annoyance. "'Cause he sounds like a priest from the Dark Ages."

"Let me skewer him," Hazel says through gritted teeth. "Please."

"I think that would make us look bad," Ara turns to Annabeth. "Any ideas?"

Annabeth scans the scene in a fraction of a second, running through their options quicker than Ara can. Strategic thinking was Lily's thing back in camp, but before Lily, Ara had Annabeth.

"Tell them you surrender," Annabeth concludes.

With her hands up, Ara turns her back on Octavian. Someone seizes her wrists to tie them behind her back and snatches the compass from her.

"Well?" Octavian shouts to the rest of her group, making her skin crawl.

Annabeth throws her dagger into the water... where Percy mentioned he'd be. Octavian ducks behind Ara, using her as a shield. "What was that for? I didn't say toss it! That could've been evidence. Or spoils of war!"

Annabeth smiles and shrugs. Octavian does a terrible job binding Ara's hands and points his weapon at Piper and Hazel.

"You other two, put your weapons on the dock. No funny bus—"

When water bursts all around them, Ara tackles Octavian and falls over. She pushes her arms under her legs and picks up Almighty, holds it between her hands, and the blade materializes cutting through the ropes around her wrists like they're Play-Doh. She stands using the sword to support herself.

Percy's standing next to her, she didn't even hear him erupt from the water. "You okay?"

Ara tosses away the remains of the rope and turns her sword back into a compass. "He thought two guys were enough to fight us. I'm insulted."

"They were three."

"Octavian doesn't count."

Percy nods and looks at Annabeth, then raises one hand, holding her dagger. "You dropped this."

Annabeth runs up to him and hugs him, she's glowing scarlet. "I love you!"

Ara smiles. It's good, having Percy and Annabeth with her in times like this. They make her feel safe no matter what. "You two are adorable."

"Guys," Hazel urges them, though she's happy too. "We need to hurry."

"Get me out of here! I'll kill you!" Octavian shrieks from the water.

"Tempting," Percy responds.

"What?" Octavian shouts, holding onto one of his guards to float.

"He's got wax in his ears," Ara informs her brother.

"Go figure," Percy sighs, then turns to Octavian and screams. "Nothing!" He walks back to the ship. "Let's go, guys."

"Just so we're clear!" Ara screams. "We did try to surrender! My brother just likes dramatic entrances, it's a shame you got caught in it!" She blows a kiss. "Toodles!"

"We can't let them drown, can we?" Hazel asks as they climb on board.

"They won't, I've got the water circulating around their feet. As soon as we're out of range, I'll spit them ashore."

"Nice," Piper chuckles. "You Jacksons are great."

"Annabeth too," Ara elbows her.

Annabeth manages a smile before she starts to give orders. "Piper, get below. Use the sink in the galley for an Iris-message. Warn Jason to get back here. Hazel, go find Coach Hedge and tell him to get his furry hindquarters on deck."

"Right!"

"Ara, Percy—We need to get this ship to Fort Sumter."

"On it!" Ara pushes Percy forward. "Just like in the sea of monsters, Nemo! But this time, you'll be my assistant."

He smirks. "So I'll have more fun, then."

"Annabeth, let us know when you spot Jason or Octavian's group!"

"You got it!"

Ara and Percy work in unison, and the ship sails off to the Fort.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicks

[dragonfelling]

Snippet Sunday

Dream I wrote for todays DND session. Our party regularly gets dreams about Gods and the Old World, as they've been connected to the Fates through their blessing and mission. This is the first time having a dream like this though, relating to a mortal.

Explores a bit of Venari (God Hunters) afterlife lore

Under the Cut

The world is gray.

Mist.

Nothing. 

A void, but not one that feels familiar… Well, to most of us. Kal, you feel this is similar to something you’ve felt this momentarily before. A brief encounter with the atmosphere that felt way too long when it happened.

There is a deep set loneliness in your very core. You can't say you feel scared or agitated. You feel calm actually. Resigned. 

A weight was lifted from you and with it, it took something important. What was it? You can't quite remember.

You hear what sounds like footfall into a shallow puddle. Another. Another. Something blinks at you. 

A deer, white as fresh snow. Its antlers arch back. they branch out in graceful symmetry, each tine tapering into a sharp upwards facing point. 

As the deer moves, the antlers sway gently. 

Light that filters through the fog dances between the skeletal structures like it is catching and guiding light along its frame. An angel and it's halo.

You blink, and in an instant, a young man has taken the place of the white deer, standing where it once stood.

He seems… unsettling familiar. To you, and to the mind you inhabit.

Extremely familiar. So familiar you mistake him for someone you actually know.

He stirs memories you haven't quite yet recovered.

Someone you've leaned against in the cramped confines of the caravan, 

someone with whom you’ve shared a smoke, and unburdened your heart. Someone who vanished into the shadows last night.

The young man, a sweet charm to his demeanour, extends his hand toward you. You take it, and as your fingertips touch, a wave of comfort washes over you. In that fleeting moment, you sense a place of profound significance.

A beach bathed in warm sunlight, the soft breeze mingling with the rhythmic sound of waves. It feels like home, yet you know it is not yours. This vision slips away just as quickly as it appeared, leaving you with a lingering sense of longing. It must be the familiar stranger's piece of heaven, a glimpse into his cherished sanctuary.

“Who are you?” you ask.

His voice is a whisper, but it's clear as day. 

“I am a reaper.”

“Oh.” Your heart sinks heavy, leaving your chest emptier than it already was. You look at your other hand, before bending down to a crouch and looking at the puddles under you. You squint to see your reflection just barely.

Between the ripples you can see yourself… pale, bloody, and... You stand abruptly, unable to suffer through looking at yourself any longer.

“I'm not going to the good place, am I?”

“You were a brave young warrior, little one. You fought hard alongside your master, and the courage you showed in the face of those mortal monsters is more than many grown men have shown in their entire lives. You will go where you are meant to be, little fighter.”

He guides you slowly through the fog. Each step feels like a great effort. The air is thick and sticks to your skin. It holds you. It wants you here. 

You slow down and he tugs. 

He struggles to drag your dead weight through and you are helpless to assist him. You feel weak… This didn’t seem right.

Either way, you look ahead. One more step. One more step. One more step. 

You see your master, reaching out to take your other hand. 

The albino figure locks eyes with the desperate soul then they look back to you

Your master asks, voice cracking and despairing,

“Where is your sword, boy!?”

Your hands slip through their fingers. 

You’re back in the fog…

Alone, you fall to your knees,  gripping your head…

Cold sets in. 

It's so, so cold. 

It's in your limbs. In your spine. In your rib cage and in your skull.

You are alone, lost in the desolation, and the cold seeps deeper, letting you know that you will be here forever.

No stag and no master can pull you from the fog without your sword.

[singdreamchild]

The Banshee and the Goth || Cassius & Regan

TIMING: Pre-Goo LOCATION: Eluria Cemetery PARTIES: Cassius (@singdreamchild) & Regan (@kadavernagh) SUMMARY: Regan senses something off in a crypt and decides to investigate. Cassius has to devise a series of clever lies to keep his secret.

Of course, nearly as soon as Regan managed to fix her necklace, the nights started bringing in a chill and, just like that, she was back in the coat. She detested the thing and probably should have been inside right now anyway, but duty called. Eluria’s sprawling mist welcomed her, and even reminded her a little of the fog that had sometimes rolled in over the moors outside of Saol Eile. Ethereal, almost, and somehow more delicate than the flower arrangement in her hands – one of Conor’s, full of white carnations and orchids. 

Martha William’s autopsy had not gone as planned, and unfortunately, Eleanor had been there to witness that. But even if it had been unremarkable, not a single worm at all, Regan still would have had a reason to pay respects: the woman had died with no next of kin, and even her friends and neighbors had little to say about her. Regan tried not to attend funerals; people scarcely invited their deceased loved one’s forensic pathologist anyway. But every once in a while, she wanted to leave something for someone who would have had no one else to do. 

Finding the grave wasn’t challenging. The real issue was everything else, every other trace of death, vying for her attention. She was experienced at tuning out what she needed to, but it wasn’t only the buried she felt. There was something off. Death closed its fist around her and pulled her toward the ornate stone entrance of the crypt. Something about it felt different from all the old bones in these grounds. It was wrong, almost – twisted. Like what she felt around Metzli. Regan’s hair prickled at the thought but her feet commanded her forward, inside.

The damp smell of earth tickled her nose and she squinted into the darkness, using her phone to light the way. Oddly, there was a lit candle, too, like someone had just been here. “Hello?” Dead or alive, she expected a response.

A single candle lit the crypt that Cassius used to read with. He had been feeling the holiday spirit, and decided to re-read Dracula by Brahm Stoker. A bit on the nose, but what could he say? He was a sucker for the classics. The crypt itself was small. A simple one-room with the coffin in the middle of the room, and a little stone bench on the far side of the room. Cassius sat on the bench, candle on top of the headrest to his right. He had heard her before he’d seen her, the woman opened the crypt and shone a light directly at him, and Cassius found himself frozen in place. There was no getting out of this one, she caught him red-handed. Dammit, he really needed to get himself out of there.

He stared at Regan like a deer caught in headlights for a long moment, book in hand. “I, uh…” he frowned, realizing he didn’t have a good excuse at the ready for why he was there. “Was just reading with Linda, here.” He spoke, hoping his gothic attire would more than explain himself and why he was there. He pointed to the tomb in the center of the room, which bore the name ‘LINDA LORELEI LINDEMAN JUN 4 1908- AUG 26 1989. BELOVED WIFE AND MOTHER’ on the placard before the stone tomb. “Do you know her?” He asked, raising a brow, curious as to why she decided to open a tomb that he had been careful to be silent around in the first place. 

None of his things were out save for the book in his hands and the candle burning behind him. A backpack was in the corner, the only sign that he was living out of the crypt. Luckily, he had put a lot of his things into storage the day before. Otherwise, she would have walked into what was clearly a man living in a crypt. He placed a bookmark in between the pages and closed the book, then looked toward the woman expectantly.

The light staring back at her had been unexpected, and as Regan’s eyes adjusted, the sharp contours of a person carved themselves out of the shadows. She was in the presence of more than the dead, and a stunned – but oddly delicate, well-mannered voice – made her straighten in surprise. She wasn’t sure which of the two of them found this to be more of an intrusion. The candlelight’s orange mixed with the bright light of her phone and she could see what appeared to be a book in his hand. Her eyes trailed down his arm and she realized, taking his whole body in, that he was clad entirely in black. Long, blond hair hung like curtains around his face and his eyes flickered with something. Embarrassment, maybe.

“Oh, um – I didn’t – I didn’t think – uh, you look comfortable. Or I suppose you were, before I showed up.” These were strange circumstances to have a conversation under, to be sure, but she wanted to understand his presence here. He may have been an odd man in a crypt at night, but he didn’t seem to be engaging in delinquent behavior; quite the opposite. And Regan was confident in her ability to handle almost anything, anyway. Humans could not harm her. He was stammering. Off guard. That would make him less likely to lie, she thought. “Do you read with the dead often?” Her eyes flicked to the plaque on the tomb, and she shook her head. “Not personally. Do you? Why her, and why here? Is she a relative of yours?” Maybe if she provided some information he’d be inclined to the same. “These flowers are for someone else, also buried here. I was, um, distracted, and came in. I can’t say I was expecting to see someone reading.” She tried to angle her head to see the spine of the book, but she couldn’t tell what it was. Given the choice of attire, poetry would have been apt. “Someone might think you were engaging in illegal activities, you know.”

Her light swept across the wall behind the man and something, like a big rock, became visible. No, not a rock. A backpack. Regan’s brow wrinkled, and she flashed her light back toward the man. Wait. Was he? “Is that a backpack? Did you take something from here? Are you robbing graves?” The word graves echoed through the crypt, dust raining from the corners of the stone ceiling, before the vibration ceased. Regan forced herself to clamp down, deny feeding her suspicions. They might not be correct. And even if they were, she couldn’t scream a graverobber to his own death, fitting though it would be. The flowers scrunched in her hand. Her eyes narrowed, trying to read intentions in the dark. “I am here for Linda, after all, actually.” 

Feeling rather uncomfortable under the woman’s gaze, Cassius shifted his weight on the bench. “Why yes, I was rather comfortable, thanks.” He responded, placing his book to the side. He frowned at her sudden line of questioning. He didn’t owe her any explanation, and yet he was suddenly compelled to do all in his power to keep her from discovering his secret. That he fucking lived in this crypt and had been for the past ten years. Of course he was embarrassed about it, he was a walking stereotype that deserved to be gawked and laughed at. A vampire. Living in a crypt. Of course he did, along with every other bloody stereotype that walked the planet about vampires. He sighed, closing his eyes for a comment as he realized she wasn’t going to go quietly, not until she was satisfied, anyway.

“I read with the dead often, yes. I find it quite calming.” He answered smoothly, recovering from any embarrassment he once had. If she was going to question him, then he would provide answers. “I don’t know Linda, no. I just find that she’s got a good crypt to read in. And everyone deserves company now and again, even in death. He points to the bouquet of flowers he left for her. Chrysanthemums, a flower that symbolized death. “No one ever suspects the goth in the graveyard, do they?” He quipped back, rolling his eyes. He looked to the flowers in her hands, suspecting she knew nothing about what they meant like he did. No one ever understood the language of flowers these days.

Then the accusations started. Of course, all goths were deliquents and up to something. God forbid he actually enjoy the peace and quiet of a graveyard that was being rather rudely interrupted. His eyes turned to narrowed slits as he slowly rose to his feet and walked over to the backpack. He knelt down and opened it, dumping its contents. A leatherbound journal, several pens, a folder full of homework, a folded up hat, sunglasses, a pair of black gloves, a laptop and its charger, all spilled out in front of her. “There. Satisfied?” Cassius rose back up to his feet, leaving the contents of his backpack out for her to see. “I’m something of an insomniac. When I can’t sleep, I come here to read or work on grading.” He realized he didn’t owe her any explanation, not after her accusing him of grave robbing. “Now if you have any other rude accusations you would like to throw my way, you have my wrapt attention.” 

Regan liked to think she was good at reading the intent of others. Whether it was true was a matter of debate. Despite his too-comfortable presence in a stranger’s mausoleum at night, and despite the sheer wrongness radiating from him in waves, he didn’t strike her as being guilty of any wrongdoing here. Other questions filled the gap left by suspicion. Could it really be as simple as him wanting to read in a crypt? Could those flowers truly be a kind offering to the dead? Regan scanned the emptied remains of his backpack, contents strewn out in the beam of her flashlight, and she found nothing objectionable. 

“I am rarely satisfied. Rude, though, perhaps. It’s bad for your eyes, you know, reading in the dark.” She gestured to the candle. “That’s not enough.” Something like amusement rose up inside of her when she saw the laptop and charger. “And I expect you weren’t planning on plugging that in anywhere in here.” Regan set her own flowers down for now, indicating that she was in no hurry. The mention of grading made something click in her skull. Goth, grading. There was someone in town who fit the bill, though for all she knew, maybe there were multiple. “You wouldn’t happen to be that teacher who I thought to be teaching classes on goth, are you? The one whose ankles I still have yet to see.” And as her eyes drifted down, she noted that pants currently covered them. Foiled again. 

“What, you want me to tell you that I’m a dead man walking? A zombie? A vampire? A ghost?” He finally put the book down, waving his hands in the air. “I’m a weirdo who likes reading in low light.” Cassius stared over at the candle, then shrugged. “Even if it hurts my eyes a little from straining to see. It’s part of the ambience.” She spoke, and he let out a huff. “Yeah, I can see that,” he muttered to himself as he all but let go of the idea of reading. “No, I wasn’t. I was grading until it died. Pulled the charger out with the laptop, was too lazy to put the cord away.” He answered simply, though began to realize that answering these questions was becoming more pain than they were worth. 

The vampire stared at the strange woman for a long moment, watching as her gaze flitted to his covered ankle. Cassius smirked at that, of course the woman from the internet was left wanting. He raised a brow at her, then quickly lifted his pant leg to reveal black socks covering his ankle. “It’s never that simple, I’m afraid. I still require money if you want to see my ankles.” He lowered his pant leg and stared at the woman with an icy gaze. “Why are you grilling me with so many questions, anyway? You are also in a graveyard after dark. You also look like you could belong to the living dead. I’m simply minding my own business. Something you could do yourself.”

“Well, are you?” Regan looked coolly at the man. Zombies were ridiculous. Ghosts were surely not what people believed them to be. But vampires… there were Metzli’s claims, Jade’s supposed duty, and she was willing to open her mind the tiniest bit more to consider that she might be in the presence of someone weird, who might at least call themselves a vampire. Or they were a goth tryhard. Goths liked vampires, didn’t they? The idea of them? Dark, brooding. It was clear he didn’t wish to answer any more questions though – he seemed to be attempting to get rid of her, which was fair enough if she had interrupted his work, or reading, or… something. She tilted her head as his hand reached down to his legs, his ankles, and – no, socks. Tall ones. Of course. She turned away like she didn’t care. “Your ankles probably aren’t good enough for my money. If I am paying to see ankles, they had better be exceptional.” He was tall, though – boney. The kind of man who, all things considered, was likely to have fine ankles. Was the reverse psychology working? (That was all psychology was good for, really, convincing strange men in crypts to bear their ankles for free.)

Oh, he was turning this back on her now? She gestured to the flowers, then decided to pick them back up a little defensively. “I told you, I brought them here for someone.” She fixed an errant petal back into place. Decided he could have a little more than that, a drip. “She does not have anyone to mourn her. And while I’m not exactly fit to do so, I think every decedent deserves some flowers on their grave, don’t you?” Her nose wrinkled at the term living dead. “Just say that I look dead. That, at least, would be a compliment and not a contradiction.” Regan still didn’t understand what this man was, exactly, why his presence felt warped, but she at least assessed that he wasn’t a threat to anyone buried here. He seemed surprisingly respectful, actually. Regan sighed, deliberating. She decided she trusted him enough to get back to what she was doing. “I will leave you be, only because I have my own matters to attend to. But don’t be surprised if I stop by again to check on you. And inform me if you decide to display your ankles for free. There’s an app for that, I think.” 

“If I was, what would you do?” Cassius asked the woman with a scrutinizing gaze. “We share the same goal, you and I. Respect and care for those who have passed on. I spend time among the graves here because I wouldn’t want to be alone in the dark. They deserve to be cared for, just like any others. I read here because I feel at home here.” Cassius gave the woman a curious once over. “Yes, I am a vampire.” He finally told her. Deciding she could do what she wanted with the information, it wasn’t like he’d be here again for her to find him. He was already working on finding a home.  “Everyone deserves flowers. They deserve to be read to, to spend time with. Just because they’re dead does not mean that their memories must be forgotten.” He let out an internal sigh of relief as she decided to leave him be. Finally, he could be left alone. “I will not, nor have I ever displayed my ankles for free.” Cassius decided, letting out an exasperated huff. “Have a good evening.” He called out to her as she turned to leave. “And don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” he mumbled as he turned the page of his book.

[nuclearforest]

I have a prompt for you if you're interested! It's for the Captain (of course) in canon (Millennium war vet). I love your stories and I love spamming your inbox haha 🥰! The prompt is preferably the Reader talking to an enemy about our favourite werewolf.

"He (Hans) isn't a monster. You are."

Thank you for everything you write!!!!

I'm interested!! Had a fun short idea with this one-- I hope it's at least a bit entertaining :)

As far as the canon request, i kept it as close as possible for this idea-- altho it still hinges on the idea that he doesnt die to fire. There isn't much romance (maybe if you squint) but there is a bit of gun violence below the cut.

You are a collector of broken things. Just about everything in your humble abode has a story: found broken and then lovingly restored bit by bit. Your favorite dresser. The TV stand that somehow mixes art deco and nature-themed maximalism. The mismatched set of chairs around your refinished kitchen table.

There was art in making something broken into a whole piece again, so when you-- a lucky survivor of the London Incident, as they were calling it-- find a broken man as just a head and a torso still somehow alive, it only made sense to keep him.

Sure, it was a pain in the ass smuggling him back to your little home in the woods. And an even bigger pain, still, to nurse him back to health, he seemed like a fitting addition.

Didn't speak at all, but he was good enough company and liked to linger as a shadow in whatever room you were in. One of the few times you got any input from him was when he'd spelled out his name with his finger on your palm. Hans.

But for as weird as he was, he was harmless. A burnt out super soldier of whatever sort were clashing in the streets and causing all sorts of mayhem. You didn't stick around to watch, but he seemed to be built like one. He was heads taller than you with a stubborn supermodel physique, thin waist and defined abs refusing to cave no matter how richly you fed him. And on top he's got a shock of white hair and tired red eyes-- clearly ain't human, but not something you'd care to press him for.

The first time you see him shift is a bit of a shock. One day he's staring at squirrels fighting in a tree outside your home, and then the next thing you know he's breathing hard and has a pair of canine ears perched on top of his head. And even when you ask you don't get a lot of answers from him, but you do start to leave corn out for the deer so he can sit by the window and watch.

He still moves a bit stiffly in his new arms and legs-- so maybe that was it. A broken old war dog content to live out retirement in your cabin in the woods and watch animals out of your living room window and clean up in the kitchen after you cook a meal.

He was the neatest roommate you've ever had.

That said, folks start coming by. It's not bad. One maybe ever few months. The first knocks on your door and point blank says you've got a monster in your home. You simply reply that you don't really care-- that he isn't hurting anyone-- and sent him away.

So that men sends his friends at all hours of the day. Some knock. Some you catch by just feeling something off in the air. You've even woken from dead sleep to find one speedwalking up your driveway.

They aren't always unpleasant, and most stand down when staring a double barrel shotgun in the face, but there are a few that have ended up as fertilizer in the garden. You didn't really like to think about it, but there were few other options.

So when another comes by one evening, long after old man Hans has gone and crawled into the nest he made I'm the corner of your bedroom (funny that he didn't like to sleep alone), you slip up to the door with your shotgun in hand to answer.

"Well hello," you drawl, "how can I help you?"

There's a stern man on the other side in a suit. They always seemed to be in suits. He's got jet black hair lined with streaks of grey and his face is wrinkled with laugh lines. Inside, you wonder if he's got kids or grandkids.

"Hello," he grunts in greeting, "seems you've got a monster inside. I've been sent here to exterminate it."

"I wouldn't call him a monster," you coolly reply, grip tightening around the shotgun in your hands, "he's a senior trying to live out his retirement."

"He's a war criminal," the man corrects with a shake of his head, "he's with the group responsible for the attack on London." The gun holstered in this man's belt draws your gaze for a second, with his hand stuck in his pockets just below.

"Seems like a retired war dog to me," you assert, "I don't discriminate when I take in the broken."

"He's a monster and needs to face justice."

The man before you can't know the hair thin scars littering Hans' skin. The way he flinches when something bangs. How he hides in his nest from the rare thunderstorm and curls up as tightly as he can, reliving something you can't begin to guess at.

"He's not a monster," you narrow your eyes, "I'd think that to be a better description of you if you try to take him." With that he draws, and you have no hope in raising your shotgun first, so you let him shoot.

Bang.

It's deafening-- probably has the poor guy sitting bolt upright in his bed with wide eyes and a heaving chest-- but you just shrug it off. Doesn't really hurt much any more, either, as silver hisses in your skin before being forced out of the hole as your flesh knits back together. Even at close range, it isn't enough to kill you.

Looking over his wrinkles again, eyes wide with shock and mouth twisted in terror, you just shake your head. "I won't say anything of it if you leave him here," you offer, "but if you insist I'm sure the garden will love you."

He shakes in his nice shoes, training fighting the human instinct of terror, and inevitably turns to beat a hasty retreat as if he hadn't just shot you in your doorway. At least you don't have neighbors, leaving the pair of you the only witnesses to the little exchange. Hopefully they'd stop sending folks like him and you could rest just a bit more easily.

Shaking your head, you go to put your shotgun back in its home in the rack and pad your way up the stairs. Surely enough, Hans is in your room with wide eyes and a heaving chest, stuck in some perpetual memory that has him twitching and whipping his head back and forth.

"Hey big guy," you say in your most gentle voice, "he's gone now. No blood this time." His eyes fixate on you, staring clean through. "Nothing to worry about." You step into his space and reach out to put a hand on his head, petting him between those wolfish ears. "This one ran."

With that, he seems to deflate slightly, calming until his eyes take on their same sad droop and his shoulders a downtrodden hunch.

You pop down next to him into his nest and lean onto a pile of pillows, opening your arms. He leans closer, poking around the new hole in your shirt with his nose before deciding that you're alive and well and dropping his head on your chest.

For what it's worth, you manage to bite back a chuckle at his sweet concern and bring your hands up to hold his head to you where he can listen to your heart beat away in your chest and he can relax with your fingers running through his hair and nails against his scalp until the tension drains from his body and he's left resting against you.

He'll stay like that for the rest of the night, desperate for your reassurance of safety. Some monster he is, you figure, but he's all he needed to be and then some. Just some big, broken company that fit right in at your home.

[numbugwritingblog]

Arceus vs Solaris: a Battle of the Deities of Light (narration)

Pre-narration note: this is a companion piece to a discussion over on my lore blog, which you can read here.

---

… What?

This woman was standing alone in confusion. With long, curly platinum blonde hair, and an all black outfit comprised of a v-neck dress shirt and pants with a coat and scarf overneath and high heels at the bottom, she held a red and white ball in her left hand. One thing was very clear to Cynthia, she’s not in the Pokemon battle she thought she was going to be.

When she took in her surroundings she was even more confused. She was at a stone platform, broken marble pillars standing at both sides, resting on top of a mountain’s soil. She knew this place, it was Spear Pillar, resting on top of Mt. Coronet. But the surrounding sky didn’t suggest that, instead looking like a void, all sorts of colours mixing in and out without breaking through the endless purple that covered all of it.

And then she saw that she wasn’t alone. There were two people, one looked like some sort of child wearing old fashioned clothing - styled after the Hisui era, was the woman’s first guess - laying on the ground unconscious.

The other was an elderly man - white hair that connected to an equally white goatee and beard, wearing what looked a mix between a royal white robe with a suit, orange neckline and shoulder pads resting atop an electronic device attached to the front, with big, brown boots. He was on his knees, looking forlorn to the sun.

Wait, no… That’s not the sun.

“It’s too late…”

Something bad was happening, that’s for sure, and so she approached the old man and kneeled in front of him. “What’s going on?” Getting some answers was the most important thing to start off with.

The man looked over in surprise to Cynthia, before slowly looking back to the sky. “Solaris refused to listen to me. And now it is going to bring all to an end. This is my fault…”

“Solaris?” Cynthia matched his gaze to the sky, squinting until she could make out what looked like… An eagle? No, it can’t be that…

Then she heard something behind herself, looking back to see that the child had awoken. They took one look at what was going on and their eyes widened, before looking over to the surrounding region. Staring at Spear Pillar…

Then, without saying a word, they brought out their flute and put it to their lips, playing an ethereal tune.

[azure flute theme]

Cynthia didn’t see anything at first, until the child began walking forwards, their feet ascending into the air as if they were walking on air.

Then she blinked, and the stairway of glowing light was illuminated. Stunned at first, she quickly rushed after the child, matching their pace up the stairs.

She knew what she saw at the top, though she could not believe that it was real. A being of golden, shining light, standing on four legs in the vague resemblance of a deer, an X-shaped cross through its body - wait, no, it stopped at a ring placed right around its waist.

It was Arceus. A shiny Arceus.

[Team Arceus theme | Team Solaris theme]

THOU DARE HARM MY CREATION

She did not hear a voice speak out, and yet she knew exactly what words were said. She also knew that they weren’t directed at her. She looked back up to the sky.

THOU THREATEN TO TEAR IT ALL ASUNDER

Arceus then began flying right in front of Cynthia’s eyes - no, it would be more accurate to say it simply willed itself up, like the very concepts of gravity, weight, even space itself held no meaning.

THEN THOU SHALT FACE MY JUDGEMENT

Arceus used Judgement!

The X-shaped cross turned a light purple as a hail of beams from the sky rained down upon Solaris, completely consuming it in the purple light.

Only for it to fade, leaving Solaris’s unnerving white glow behind.

“It’s no use.” The old man was delayed in getting to the top, due to his old age and poor condition - whatever had happened prior to all of this had clearly worn him down. “Solaris is truly invincible.”

“Arceus created the world…” Cynthia was quiet, but that’s all that was needed for her to be heard. “If anything has what it takes to get past that, it’s Arceus.”

Arceus’s eyes flashed, one an everlasting blue and the other an ever present pink, and like that two more Pokemonexisted where they didn’t before.

A dark blue, four legged beast with what appeared to have silver armour pieces resembling a helmet, a chest piece, and a fan-shaped tail was on one side.

A pale pink two legged beast with thin purple stripes along its body, a long tail, and an elongated neck leading into a straight frill was on the other.

Cynthia stared upon them, mouth agape. “It’s Palkia and Dialga, masters over time and space!”

Arceus backed up as the other two Pokemon fought, focusing itself as the glows in its eyes vanished, replaced by a black void in each.

Palkia used Spacial Rend!

Palkia lifted its arms up and slammed them together, before sliding one arm up and the other down - all of space in front of it distorting to mirror its movements, right over Solaris. Then it spread its arms apart, the affected space splitting in half to match.

And yet Solaris was fine, an orange orb - with an ethereal eye that stared at whoever looked upon it - opening up and firing out a purple spiky ball. Palkia evaded the attack effortlessly - but yet when it reached where Palkia used to be the being still flinched back as if it were hit, stumbling back.

“The eyes of Solaris,” the old man said. “As it exists throughout all of time… So do its eyes perceive all of it.

Dialga used Roar of Time!

Dialga roared out immediately afterwards -  to Cynthia it lasted only a moment, to the old man it lasted for an hour, and to the child it didn’t last any time at all, causality ripping apart as the roar spread out to Solaris, pushing it back.

Immediately the one orange orb became many orbs, countless orbs, firing off more purple spikes at the two Pokemon.

Palkia began dodging once more, this time distorting space itself to redirect the spikes away from where they once were.

Dialga joined in, distorting time so that the spikes just skip past Dialga without traversing the time in-between.

Then Solaris fired a laser directly at Arceus, launching the Pokemon back, so far back that it can no longer be seen.

Palkia briefly turned to Dialga, and was met with the other Pokemon turning back to it - the two briefly nodding.

Palkia used Spacial Rend!

Dialga used Roar of Time!

Palkia drew its arms in together, folding space down into one singular point ahead of the two Pokemon, while Dialga let out another roar, reaching directly into the impossibly small space, tearing all of time contained within asunder.

Still Solaris was unharmed, ready to launch more at the two of them.

Only for something to grab it from behind.

Giratina used Shadow Force!

It was a shadow from the void, no distinct features besides the glowing red, devilish eyes it possessed and four black tendrils wrapping around Solaris.

“What’s that?” the old man exclaimed in shock, eyes wide. For the first time, hope returned in his frail old body.

“Giratina,” Cynthia said softly, her eyes still locked at the battle for reality. “Even the Renegade Pokemon was summoned to help…”

Arceus used Calm Mind!

The summoner, Arceus, returned with a fierce glare. Its mind and spirit focused solely on this battle as its allies fought for it.

It fired out another Judgement, piercing even harder than it had before.

Solaris flinched from the hit, a piece of its armour breaking off, pale blue fragments floating off into the void.

Just as it looked like victory was night, a new type of orb formed alongside the orange ones.

Blue orbs, which formed right on top of Arceus, Dialga, Palkia, and Giratina.

Palkia instinctively bent space until it was no longer near the orb, watching as the remaining three were instantly crushed away into nothing - only for a barrage of purple orbs to bring down Palkia moments later.

“No!” Cynthia yelled out, reaching an arm out to the sky. Then she dropped to her knees, arm still held up high. “No…”

So that was it. This thing was going to destroy everything…

It was over…

… No. It’s not over yet. Whatever this thing was, she wasn’t going to let it have its way as long as she drew breath. Cynthia grabbed one of her Pokeballs, ready to fight.

THOU SHALT NOT DESTROY MY CREATION

She stopped in place. That was… This peaceful, golden light… Cynthia looked back up to see the source of the light. She couldn’t make out any details behind it, but she knew. This was Arceus, still. But how?

As if to answer her question, the sky suddenly became filled. More Arceus than the eye could see. More Arceus than she could count. Not even the purple void of a sky could be seen, as everywhere she looked was just more Arceus.

Each and every single one of them focused their power together.

Arceus used Judgement!

Together, an endless barrage of light, flashing and glittering in all 18 colours, rained down upon Solaris’s body, the being yelling out in pain and agony. The combined power was too much for it, as more armour broke off from it…

And then it expanded its light, destroying every single one of the Pokemon in a single flash of light, turning up to the golden light that was their source.

FACE MY JUDGEMENT

The two beings focused their raw power, the inhuman white light clashing against the life filled golden light.

Cynthia, the old man, and the child all shielded their eyes. This light… it was too much… They… can’t… even…

…

Cynthia blinked, looking around. What was-

“Hey, your Pokemon?”

That’s right, she was about to fight a trainer who had challenged her for the position of Champion. Still, something lingered in the back of her mind even as she threw out Spiritomb against her opponent, shouting commands for it to follow.

It was almost like she had forgotten something.

---

Post narration note: for those of you who didn’t realise it, the child is meant to be the Hisuian protagonist (and were left nondescript on purpose for you to apply whatever appearance you personally imagine for them), and the old man is meant to be the Duke of Soleanna, who lacks a personal name unlike his daughter Elise

[madphantom]

There hasn't been much Sarah content lately but I'm almost done so new snippet

The next morning after that peculiar night was unusually clear and cold. I woke up early after a few restless hours of dreaming. Sarah was still asleep and I let her. She looked too comfortable to be disturbed.

I got dressed and decided to go down to the lake for a swim. Upon opening the door I was momentarily blinded by the morning sun and squinted.

And then I saw it and it took my breath away.

There, on the edge of the forest, stood a white shape, blinding in the stark sunlight. I stared at it in awe and thought I might be seeing an angel of some sort.

I blinked and when I did, the apparition turned and galloped back into the phthalo green dark from whence it came.

"The deer come quite close to the house in the morning," a soft voice behind me noted. I spun around and saw the stranger who had spent the night. They were wearing the blindfold once again, and a few strands of their copper coloured hair had escaped it and softly fluttered in the breeze. One of their hands was elegantly wrapped around their wooden cane and the rose quartz on their ring shimmered in the morning sun like a predator's eye in the shadow of the thickets.

"How on earth could you know it was a deer?!", I burst out before I could contain myself.

"Oh, I have my ways." Another fang-bearing smile. I chose not to further inquire after seeing it. Suddenly, it seemed like a bad idea to leave Sarah alone with the stranger.

"I'm going down to the lake," I said and my voice only trembled a little. "Would you like to accompany me?"

The storyteller smiled.

"Do you know the area well?", I inquired. We were walking down the path through the field, the tall pale green grass swaying in the morning breeze around us. Drowsy bees buzzed through the wildflowers, their wings shimmering golden in the morning light.

"Like the back of my hand," the storyteller replied, their voice gentle. A green woodpecker called somewhere in the treetops. They ran their fingers across the blades of grass. "I used to stay here quite often when I was younger. A family used to live in the house you two have taken for yourself now, hardworking, happy people, who lived a simple life that was nevertheless filled with love and earnest joy. They had geese and goats and a rooster whose call echoed across the valley in the early mornings, and a great cat with yellow eyes that used to sunbathe on the staircase all afternoon. I used to sleep in their barn all summer, where the hay was soft and the crickets chirping at night made you feel as if you were in a waking dream."

"How come they left? I have often asked myself that." I kicked a pebble out of the way.

The storyteller sighed. "Their only son drowned in the lake. They searched everything, but only found him a few weeks after it happened. The sight of his lifeless face, it…changed them. The joy was gone and when the joy had left, the love had soon followed. And with the departure of love, emptiness came knocking on their door like an old friend." They paused. "John and Norah walked into the lake together one moonlit night. After that, Norah's old sickly mother left these woods to live with her brother, and took the yellow-eyed cat with her. She died soon thereafter. The house was left to itself - until you moved in."

"It must be strange for you, to return to the house now that it no longer belongs to the people you knew."

The storyteller chuckled. "It was stranger when the house stood empty. Of course, on my travels, I still needed a place to sleep. But the peculiarity of a house becoming so silent after it had always been so full of laughter is hard to shake off. I suppose it is a lot nicer now that it no longer stands abandoned. The air has changed."

By now we had reached the lakeshore and the water glittered in the summer sun. I thought of the child that had drowned in these peaceful waves. Suddenly I no longer felt like going for a swim.

Something moved in the branches above us and spread its wings. I glanced up and saw a white heron leaving the old willow behind. When I turned back to the storyteller they were frowning.

"What is it?", I asked.

"Was that a heron?", they inquired.

"Yes, a white one," I replied. "It flew across the lake. Looked quite majestic."

The storyteller stopped dead in their tracks. "We should go back."

I tilted my head in confusion. "Why?"

"Trust me." They chewed their lip. "It will rain soon."

When I looked up, the sky that had just been stark blue had turned ash grey.