#Curiosity personified

[hyperfixation-hopper]

So uhhh… what if they met huh

[fesenmoon]

no fucking way

[luckylunatix]

I give a very minimal amount of fucks about the US HHN icons but I would take a bullet for this silly little critter right here

[blackbleedingrose]

Long Lost Morningstar - Part Two

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing(s): Charlie x reader (platonic), Vaggie x reader (platonic), Charlie x Vaggie

Genre: Fluff

Warning(s): minor cursing.

Notes: This is the second installment of LLM. This one will be going more in depth in (Y/N)'s life in Heaven and her relationship with Michael and Charlie. I will also be working on another Hazbin mini series (the one I mentioned in my last post) so part three will take a little longer - so, please, bare with me.

Words: 2215

"This is one of the reasons why I wanted to meet you in the first place. . . My full name is (Y/N) Demiurgos. Daughter of Archangel Michael Demiurgos".

(Y/N) Demiugros have lived in Heaven her entire life among the archangels, seraphims, and winners (human souls who ascended into Heaven after they died).

She, herself, was a seraphim - one with very large and beautiful wings; six in total.

Her father, Michael, was one of Heaven's archangel's and one of the Seven Virtues. He was the one who had created her from stardust.

At least, those were the stories she's been told her whole life.

Though, it was strange. . .

Her father had crafted her in his likeness and yet the two couldn't be more different.

Not to say Michael was a complete stiff or was lacking any sense of humor - in fact, all of the archangels had their own strange quirks. (Y/N) loved being around them and often shared their humor.

The problem here was. . . her curiosity.

She was a naturally curious being and would often dream of things most of Heaven would frown upon - like six-winged ducks.

As a child her curiosity would sometimes get the better of her and she would try to venture beyond the archangel's castle (where she lived with Michael and the other archangels).

Of course, Michael was always there to stop her from wandering too far.

It became evident that (Y/N)'s curiosity and wonderous spirit would only get worse if he didn't stop it right there and then.

He didn't want her to end up like her real parents.

What (Y/N) didn't know was that almost everything she has ever known was a complete lie.

Or that Michael was not her real father/parent.

That title rightfully belonged to Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar.

But, of course, no one who knew ever planned on telling her; so, instead they twisted the truth.

Michael told her all about what Lucifer and Lilith had done and how the two brought evil into humanity. An act that got them a one-way dropped elevator ride straight to Hell.

Obviously leaving out the part where Lucifer and Lilith were her real parents, and instead told her they were her estranged uncle and aunt.

He had hoped telling her this would stifle her growing curiosity and wandering enough to keep her out of trouble and from ending up exactly where his twin brother and his lover had all those years ago.

It also helped that ever since Lucifer and Lilith's trial, Heaven has been cracking down on teaching their residents obedience and the consequences of straying too far.

And for a long time it worked.

(Y/N) was one of Heaven's top students and a role model seraphim to all angels alike.

On the outside she was grace, obedience, and perfection personified - just as she was taught and just as Heaven wanted.

But on the inside, she was still that curious and wonderous spirit who would secretly write her dreams in a private journal she had to hide away in a pocket dimension with her magic.

(Y/N) yearned to venture outside of Heaven and explore all the different realms to see what they had to offer. Like the ones she's read from the books in Heaven's restricted section that she may or may not break into in the dead of night (she's a sneaky little sneaker :P).

Tales of archons, unique planets, and realms with distorted human desires would fill her head - her heart yearning to one day travel to those places herself.

But for now, her life was in Heaven as a role model seraphim whose curiosity and wandering was kept in check.

. . . Until she caught wind of the Princess of Hell's meeting by her fellow seraphim, Emily, during their weekly hangout.

(Y/N) was aware Lucifer and Lilith had a child born in Hell, but she never expected her demon cousin would ever be granted permission to enter Heaven.

She couldn't help but wonder what her cousin wanted with Heaven.

Whatever it was, it was big enough to warrant a whole trial with the Head Seraphim, Sera.

Oh, no - there goes her curiosity.

(Y/N) knew her father would frown upon her interacting with the daughter of the ones who damned humanity. . . but she couldn't help it! She really wanted to meet her cousin and see what she was like.

Maybe people in Hell weren't as bad as Heaven made them out to be.

Luckily for her, Emily was quite the chatterbox and told her all about how she and Sera were going to give a tour to the Princess of Hell and her partner, the hotel they were staying at, and the exact room number.

Before she went on her way, (Y/N) managed to get one of her doting simps friends to cover for her and her duties to avoid raising suspicion.

When Emily and Sera had finished talking to Heaven's demon guests and brought them to their hotel room, (Y/N) was hidden away in the hallway waiting until they left.

As soon as she was sure Sera and Emily were gone, (Y/N) quickly rushed to the door.

She silently psyched herself up before knocking.

Charlie and Vaggie, who were skeptical to hear a knock so fast, hesitantly opened the door.

"Uh. . . Hello?".

When Charlie opened the door she definitely wasn't expecting to see a very tall angel with long blonde hair, purple eyes, red cheek circle's, and a big smile on her pale face standing outside. For a moment Charlie could have sworn she was almost looking at her mother.

"Hello! You must be Charlie and Vaggie! Emily's told me all about you - well, the only things that she knew before meeting you. Haven't had the chance to ask her about you after meeting you, but since I'm here now I might as well as you yourselves!".

(Y/N) snapped out of her trailing thoughts and rambling, "Oh, shit! My bad! I got a little carried away and forgot to introduce myself. Sorry. My name is (Y/N). I'm a seraphim. It's so nice to finally meet you!"

Charlie and Vaggie had to recover from the whiplash of the seraphim's personality and onslaught of words. Not wanting to offend her and mess up her chance before the trial, Charlie invited (Y/N) inside. (Y/N) eagerly accepted and walked into the room admiring it - she's never been in a hotel before.

"So. . . why are you here?" Vaggie asked rather rudely suspicious of why a random seraphim would go out of their way to talk to people from Hell. "Vaggie!" Charlie whisper-yelled afraid she offended a potential high authority in Heaven.

"Oh, well, I was hoping to get a chance to meet you both. When Emily told me about how the Princess of Hell wanted a meeting in Heaven about her hotel to redeem sinners, I'll admit my curiosity was peaked and I knew I had to see who you were in person".

Charlie gasped, her eyes shining, "Does this mean you think it's possible to rehabilitate demons?!". Vaggie glared at the angelic being, "Why would a seraphim care to meet people like us?".

(Y/N) gave the two a gentle smile, "Well, I tend to be a naturally curious individual - which I'm sure you can imagine isn't something Heaven is too fond of. As for redeeming sinners - I'm not sure. Personally, I would love to see souls in Hell given the chance to be redeemed and enter Heaven. Especially the ones who truly do not deserve eternal damnation. Which is why I'm excited to see how your trial ends. Hopefully you have evidence to prove your hotel works. I mean, if the Princess of Hell is willing to vouch and put in the effort on giving sinners a better chance at an afterlife in paradise, then maybe not all demons are bad after all".

Charlie and Vaggie were awestruck. Sure, Emily was really nice but (Y/N) was the first angel to actually be willing to give them a chance. Charlie had tears in her eyes, "D-Do you really believe that?". (Y/N) smiled and laid her hand on Charlie's, "I do".

Charlie and Vaggie smiled at the seraphim. It was nice to see that there was one angel here in Heaven who wasn't going to shut them down right away - someone who genuinely supported their cause.

The three chatted some more - mainly Charlie and (Y/N) with Vaggie chiming in from time to time. Now that the three got more comfortable with each other, the conversation was going a lot smoother. Despite just meeting one another, Charlie and (Y/N) felt like they've known each other for years.

"So, what do you do here in Heaven?" Charlie asked (Y/N). "Oh! Well, I sometimes help the archangels with their duties, but I mainly work in court trials", (Y/N) answered. Charlie's eyes lit up, "Court trials?".

(Y/N) immediately caught on. She shook her head, "Oh, no. Not in the actual trials; that's for the higher seraphims. In this case, Sera and Emily. I'm just a stenographer and record keeper. I help keep and maintain the court records and sometimes record the trials in person".

Vaggie raised a brow, "A seraphim as a stenographer?". (Y/N) nodded, "It's actually a very important job. . . but, I won't lie and say it was my first choice for a job. It was my father's idea. His way of keeping me busy, entertained, and out of trouble".

Charlie blinked, "Oh! Who's your father?". (Y/N) bit her lip nervous, "This is one of the reasons why I wanted to meet you in the first place. . . My full name is (Y/N) Demiurgos. Daughter of Archangel Michael Demiurgos". Charlie and Vaggie's jaws dropped.

"Archangel Michael?! A-As in my dad's twin brother?!".

(Y/N) nodded fiddling nervously with her hands. Charlie did a double take, "Woah, woah! Wait! Then doesn't that make us-" "Cousins," (Y/N) confirmed. Charlie gasped placing her hands on her cheeks, "OMG! That's amazing!". (Y/N) smiled in relief, "Yeah. I guess it is".

"Who's your mom?" Charlie asked eagerly. "Oh, I don't have one," (Y/N) said rather casually. This made Charlie and Vaggie feel a bit bad, "Oh".

(Y/N) waved her hands, "Oh, it's not like that! I've never had one! You see most angels are typically created here in Heaven using stardust, which is how my father created me. He used his likeness and the female reference of Lilith - your mother. And thus, I was born".

"Oooh - that makes so much sense! Now, I understand why you look so familiar!" Charlie smiled at her newly found relative. She couldn't believe she had a cousin in Heaven. One so kind and beautiful.

(Y/N) was relieved at how fast Charlie accepted her. She was worried she might not be too fond of having an angelic relative.

Vaggie was a bit nervous to discover that (Y/N) was the daughter of a higher ranking angel, but it quickly went away when she saw how happy her and Charlie were talking to each other.

She's only known (Y/N) for a short while, but she truly believed the seraphim had no ill intentions towards them and genuinely wanted to get to know them.

In fact, (Y/N)'s personality reminded her a little of Charlie.

(Y/N) admired her cousin for her big heart and the confidence she had in her own dreams. She was ashamed to admit she was a little envious.

How she wished she could act on her dreams like her little cousin; but, Heaven would never allow it. Her father always had to remind her not to stray too far, or she might end up just like her uncle and aunt. . . Fallen.

This was why she had to always keep up appearances when she was in public. No one other than those closest to her knew of the dorky, cheerful, and quirky side of her personality. To everyone else she was poised, graceful, and elegant.

When Charlie had asked her about her dreams (Y/N) told her seraphims weren't allowed to dream, or at least have dreams that would go against Heaven's rules.

Despite trying to hide how much that bothered her, Charlie and Vaggie noticed the small shift in her behavior. They felt bad for her wishing Heaven could be more open minded.

(Y/N) quickly waved it off claiming she was okay and that she was used it. She understood her father just wanted to keep her safe and out of trouble.

Soon it was time for (Y/N) to go to avoid making her father suspicious of her whereabouts.

Before she left she and Charlie shared a tight loving hug. (Y/N) wished her good luck in her trial and that she would be rooting for her.

Hearing her cousin support her dream and wish her luck made Charlie feel a lot better about the trial.

Being around (Y/N) made her feel comfortable and safe. She felt familiar, which now makes sense seeing as the two were family.

Her dad couldn't be here, so it felt good knowing there was someone in her family here in Heaven who believed in her.

With those thoughts in mind, she was ready for the trial and positive she would change Heaven's mind and prove the hotel's credibility.

. . . Too bad things sometimes don't go as we hoped.

Taglist:

@soobryu @kyo-kyo1 @miyako-night20 @charliecharlie65 @unknow-sama @myluckymoon @lbcreations-blog @moonchaos18

[hughmanbean]

The Nurturing Queen and the Greedy Duke

Credit to @sky00asara in this post for this idea I love guys who are moms (if you get what I mean) This will follow the same rough story beats but will still have a little of my own flair.

The Nuturing Queen, Mother of the Wandering Princess and Erratic Prince, has been said to provide protection and inspire devotion to all who come across her. Praised as Balance and Duality personified, she is a large influence and very commonly mentioned in every scroll, book, art piece, and all magic artifacts that Constantine has seen. He's heard from so many beings of how great she is, her feats, and her being the largest connection between the Unknown Realms and Earth.

Here comes the problem. The Nurturing Queen has an enemy who's been around just as long as she has, who's also been seen not long after wherever she goes, chasing her trail and lurking. The Greedy Duke. He wishes to have her as his own, and take the throne to himself, subsequently plunging the Unknown Realms into chaos. Whenever he confronts the Nurturing Queen, legendary battles commence, and he is beat back.

But now, things are going wrong. The Lazurus Pits have been reported as acting, well, erratic. The Erratic Prince, some beings say, has been seen discussing things with the Greedy Duke. They fear his loyalties may not lie with his family.

A shift has been felt in the magics community. Unknown Realms Beings have ventured into Earth, either out of curiosity or to wreak havoc. Now, at the watchtower, JLD work out how to summon a being and demand to know what's going on, the rest of the Justice League desperate.

When they finally do summon one, they're launched into the Unknown Realms as an answer, told to "Find our Queen" as the being dissappears. They're on a floating island in a green void.

[dollypopup]

I can't stop thinking about Colin on his travels. Colin, alone, on a journey to 17 different cities, across several countries. Colin on his own.

Colin who writes letter after letter, to his family, to his friends, and barely gets a response back. How long before he understands that they didn't get lost in the mail? How long until he realizes that, just like when he was a boy, no one has the time for him? The space for him? How many letters unanswered before he lets it finally take root and fester in his mind?

He could have died on that tour.

Would they even notice? Would they see when the letters slow until they cease? Would they wonder why? His mum, surely (maybe, possibly, but she has enough on her hands, besides, and he's never been a concern, in need of her assistance, before), but anyone else? Anthony on his honeymoon, Eloise a stormcloud personified, Benedict taking on the familial responsibilities, Fran preparing for the marriage mart and in Bath, regardless. Daphne, his closest sister, a mum running her own estate.

Greg and Hyacinth who enjoy his stories, but are children.

Pen who ignores him. No explanation, no goodbye.

Colin who has no one in his corner. Colin who travels city to city, putting on personas. Will they like me? What about now? Colin who has hardly anything to read from the people he loves. Who do not think of him.

And yet he thinks of them. Brings them back gifts, writes his recollections for them until it hits him that, oh, they don't care. They don't care what he's doing, how he's doing. They didn't want to hear it before, when he was there with them, and they do not want to hear it now, either. Did they even open those envelopes? Did they see them come through the post, just as proof he's alive, and shrug off the contents? Did they look? Once, Colin sends an empty page. No one notices. Easier, then, to send just the outsides. People only ever care about the outsides. Pretty and prim in neat packages, uncaring of what lies beneath. Sea sick on the rocking boats, staring up at stars on the continent, Colin grows aware, but not bitter. Sad, but resigned.

He loves his family, he loves Pen, loves them to grace, loves them to it's okay. It was him, he determines. Too chatty, his letters too long, uninteresting, his passions dull or droll, or else, worse, he's displeased them in some way. Colin who takes refuge in stranger's arms and homes, who dreams and tries to sate his curiosity. Colin who pretends, because anyone, anyone but him would be received better, he's sure of it. Colin who must talk too much, surely, and with no one to listen. Colin who learns to hush.

Yes. Remarkable- as in, I have many remarks about it.

How many times did he go to excitedly write of what he did that week, and stopped himself, knowing it was a waste? How many times did he write and throw into the fire a letter asking Why don't you see me? Why don't you care?

If he didn't make it, how long would it take for anyone to notice? A month? Two? A year? Would they wave it off as his frivolity, denounce him as a flake and fume about the funds? Would they wonder where it was he had lost himself off at?

He cannot fall into that, so, he writes in his journal, instead. Of the ache of it, of how he longs for connection, for understanding, for someone to take him seriously. He keeps it with him, this log of his discontent, of his folly and felicity, of his pitfalls and pains.

If he didn't make it, would they realize all that's left of him is what he sent them, not even a body to bury? Did he look over the side of a bow of a boat and look at the churn of the ocean and think of how many bones it held? Did he tip his face to the sun? How many new scars did he earn? Who did he befriend?

Who did he become?

Somewhere along the line, Colin learned. He learned the real him wasn't wanted.

Somewhere along the line, somewhere between Patmos and Paris, Colin left Colin behind.

And, somewhere along the line, Colin laid face to face with loneliness in his bed, and it wrapped its arms around him.

[scrapsovereign]

“I Have Standards”: A Choose Your Own Adventure Smut Fic

Description: NSFW. Astarion rejects you after defeating the Goblin Camp, so you seek out a certain wizard to make him realize what he's missing out on...

Pairings: Astarion x F!Tav, Gale x F!Tav, Astarion x Gale x F!Tav

Trigger warnings/tags: breeding, predator/prey , breath play, noncon/dubcon elements, Jealous Astarion, Possessive Astarion

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

(You enter your tent after leaving Gale’s)

(Go Back!)

As you enter your tent you notice Astarion, lounging on your bedroll with a bottle of wine to keep him company.

He’s temptation personified. His once porcelain ivory skin now takes on a slight sun-kissed glow, his nearly naked form showing off muscles that could have been chiseled by the finest artisans of Toril. His perfect tits are out on display, the monster between his legs outlined by a swath of silken fabric. His regal ruby eyes acknowledge you with his gaze, beckon you to kneel before him on his crude throne…and oh, how you want to worship him.

You exhale with a stuttering breath, mentally preparing yourself for a long, hard night.

“Well hello, darling! Did the wizard’s wand leave you wanting? Was he tongue-tied when he tried to show you what a cunning linguist he was?” He giggles, amused by his own cleverness.

“Astarion, what are you doing in here? I thought you…”your words are robbed from you as the fabric falls away from him when he rises to his feet, the full glory of his cock filled with your blood standing proudly at attention.

Your eyes are fixed on him, unable to look away from the length that has twitched against your body every single night. He’s big for an elf- his uncommon size is long enough to massage the deep places in your channel that ache for attention. A bead of pearly fluid seeps out and you find your mouth watering in curiosity, licking your lips as you imagine how his release might taste spurting on your tongue.

“Like what you see?” He wraps his words around you sensually, similar to how you want to wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

Astarion’s eyes regard you with a half-lidded smolder as he hunts you, closing the distance between you.

“That’s…I mean, yes, but-” you rasp, your mouth suddenly feeling like it’s full of sand. “Why are you here, naked in my tent?”

Astarion draws near to you. His cool fingers feel like heaven as they brush up against your warm, flushed cheek. Your heart hammers as you notice him looking up and down the length of you, undressing you with his eyes.

“I wanted a midnight snack before I turned in for the evening, and decided to pay a visit to my favorite little treat,” he purrs, the scent of wine heavy on his breath. “Although, now that you’re here? I find myself ravenous.”

You don’t believe a word he says. “If you wanted to simply drink my blood, you could have come in like you usually do while I’m asleep.”

“But what if I want to come in you while you’re awake-“ he stops himself mid-protest, flouncing a hand to his chest, feigning a scandalized gasp. “Oh dear, did I really say ‘come in you’? I’d never assume I had permission.”

“Unless that’s what you want. For me to claim you, to fill you with my seed,” he whispers to you, as if he’d plucked the scene out of your most sordid imaginings.

He tugs up at the fabric of your skirt and pins it in place with his thumbs, thrusting two fingers against a warm spot at the crotch of your undergarments.

“Judging by how wet you are, I’d say it's a yes,” he traces the pads of his fingertips back and forth, the glide of pooled arousal sending a lightning bolt to your center. You gasp and tilt your head back, finding purchase on his arms to hold you steady.

“I…I thought you didn’t want me,” you manage to say, every rational thought you have being replaced by the need for his cock to fill you.

“I changed my mind when I saw that delicious backside of yours sway over towards the wizard,” he murmurs to in your ear, a hint of poison creeping in at the mention of Gale.

“It took every ounce of strength I had to not barge in, take you right in front of him…remind the both of you that your body is mine,” he growls, punctuating his statement with a single thrust of his hand upwards at your clothed entrance.

“Ahh!” You cry out, lurching forward with a sharp inhale as he catches you by the throat, his hand gently resting against your pretty little neck. Your heart and your needy sex flutter with his touch, your mind reeling from the whiplash of his rejection to saying you’re his.

“I don’t belong to you,” you remind him with a timid voice, though you secretly wish otherwise. “And I thought you didn’t want to have sex with me. You said that you weren’t interested. You turned me down.”

“A mistake that I can…hardly wait to correct,” Astarion chuckles at the pun he’d made, taking your hand and placing it around his cock to punctuate his statement.

You gasp at how soft his skin is, like silken velvet wrapped around a rod of steel. He twitches in your palm, as if the blood that fills him recognizes its maker. He hums with false disinterest as your growing arousal draws another pathetic noise from you.

“So, what do you say, darling? Are you ready for me to devour you in every sense of the word? Use your body to sate my appetite? Fully claim you as mine, and mine alone?”

Astarion’s elegant fingers tighten ever so slightly around your neck, his lips curled in a malicious smile that should frighten you.

Instead, your core tightens and your walls clench, your entire body aching to be at his mercy. Your clit twitches when you think of him doing this to you in the darkness of the forest, far away from camp so that no one can hear you cries of passion. You need his undead body to fuck your mortal one to its ruin, to make you suffer a million little deaths from his selfish pleasure-seeking.

Before you give your consent, you catch something out of the corner of your eye. It’s fast- a brief flicker of sadness on his beautiful features before his mask of seduction slips back into place.

Nevermind what you want…is this what he wants?

Let Astarion wreck you after hunting you as his prey: “I don’t believe you…yet. You’ve turned me down once, you’re going to have to chase me if you want me.”

In Progress - Decline Astarion’s offer because you don’t think he really wants it: “Astarion…you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

[cheeseceli]

Summer with you

Pairing: Lee Know × Gn!Reader (established relationship)

Genre: fluff, short drabble, almost non existential angst

Prompt: "I loved you for three summers now, honey, I want them all"

Warnings: none? Let me know if I missed any

A/n: honestly I thought this was very cute, pls do let me know what you guys think! | Join the 1k event

Minho never really liked the summer.

The dancing routines would become more tiring, he would constantly feel like he's sweating and it's just very uncomfortable overall. He liked the winter way more than the summer.

Funnily enough though, he met you in the sunny season. You were radiant: glowing skin with a shiny smile. It was almost as if you were a sunray personified that came down to earth just to say hi. And just like he would usually despise the heat, he thought he was fated to hate you.

That never happened though. Pretty much the contrary. Your presence would slowly melt him, in the most positive way possible. You were the light he had been denying but desperately needed.

Interesting how most of the milestones in your relationship happened in the summer.

The first one was when he met you. At first, he didn't give the encounter much importance. You were just another person in his life. Maybe even a temporary one. Just like the summer, one day you would go away as well. But you didn't.

You were there for every single thing. For the celebrations and the losses, for the smiles and tears - for him. He felt like he was experiencing the sneak peak of true love. And his curiosity was awaken, wanting to know what it could be like if he just stuck around for a little bit more.

For the first time, he didn't think the cloudless and bright blue sky was annoying to his sight. He thought it was rather pretty.

The second summer was when you both became an official couple. Without a single doubt, that period became the beginning of a life where Minho had a reason to smile every day.

The amount of dates intensified and he got to see you pretty much everyday. Picnics, walks to the park, pool dates and travels to the beach were often in his life. He felt like living an eternal holiday whenever you were around.

For the first time, he didn't think the heat was suffocating. He thought it was rather welcoming and warm.

The third one was when you argued for the first time. It was a very bad fight, making you both refuse to see each other for a whole week, be it for the pride or the pain.

He felt lost during this whole period. That's when he found out that during the time he got to know you, he became a sunflower while you were his sun. He followed your glow. Without it, he didn't know where to go. That's what made the hug he gave you after that one week be the tighest one you ever received.

For the first time, he missed the sun he thought he'd rather not have.

And now, on the first day of this summer, he was going to ask for your hand. Maybe he was being too eager. Three years of knowing each other and only two of those dating was probably too early. But when he kneels down in front of you saying he wants to spend every future summer with you and you say yes, he swears he could feel the sun shining above just a little bit more.

He's excited to know what next year's summer will bring to you.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: Awaken beauty

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @enchanthings

[calehenituse-brainrot]

Faith

Kim Rok Soo; a conversation about faith.

"Do you ever think of believing in something before?"

Kim Rok Soo raised his head when the question slipped from their lips. It wasn't particularly an odd question, but it did give him a twinge of unease at the pit of his stomach. His dark eyes turned to them, and he saw a flicker of curiosity in their eyes.

When he stayed quiet for a second too long, they added for clarification, "Faith. Gods and religions and whatnot."

Rok Soo lowered his eyes from theirs. The question surrounding faith wasn't something he spent his time mowing about when they lived in an apocalyptic world where everything around them was despair personified. If he were to confess, the idea of a higher being existing and seeing all of this pain and not doing anything to stop it made him feel slightly bitter.

But then again, such an omniscient being can't possibly understand the pains of a mortal, smaller being.

"I don't..." Rok Soo began, choosing his words carefully. He noticed a gap he hadn't noticed before with this question and he didn't want to destroy the semblance of understanding between them that had been built over the years over the matter of faith. "I don't really do that."

"I see," they replied with a faint hum. "I'm sorry if that was something invasive to ask."

"Can't be invasive if there's nothing to invade," Rok Soo replied, taking a swig from his bottle of soju.

They let out a soft chuckle. "I suppose so."

There was a moment of silence that hung in the air between them before Rok Soo added slowly, "It's not that I haven't thought about it. I just... don't have that connection."

They smiled. "I understand. I struggle with it sometimes, too."

"You do?" Rok Soo raised an eyebrow.

They laughed when Kim Rok Soo leaned back in interest at their confession. "I do, yes. It's so hard believing in something you can't see or prove. I believe there's an analogy for it using teapots."

Rok Soo tilted his head. "Russell's Teapot."

They clapped their hands once. "That's it, that's the one!"

"I constantly think about it," they murmured quietly with a wry smile. "It's exhausting."

Another silence between them. Rok Soo didn't know what to do or say to respond to that admission. Was he supposed to tell them he's sorry? Reassure them that their faith is right and they shouldn't be worried when he himself does not hold onto a belief?

"If a god were to exist," Rok Soo began carefully. "It's hard to imagine that they'll understand us."

"That's the opposite of what I had been taught ever since I was young," they replied with a hearty laugh. "That whatever we do, our God will understand us, because He is a merciful God."

Rok Soo looked up at the ceiling and they simply looked at him with a smile. "Tell me."

Rok Soo looked back at them. "What?"

They leaned to him and then tapped at his temple twice with their finger. "Tell me what's in here. What you're thinking."

Rok Soo made himself comfortable on the floor, his tailbone slightly hurting. They had been sitting on the floor of the balcony of his apartment for a while now, their empty bowls of ramyeon stacked by his side and two empty bottles of soju between them both. The cool wind blew against his dark hair and their own, which made him turn to look at them properly.

"I think the idea of a god being perfectly loving, all-knowing, powerful, and everywhere present could not exist without contradictions," Rok Soo began quietly.

"Me too," they admitted with a wistful smile. "A loving God. Yet why does the devil receive no mercy?"

Rok Soo adjusted his position, suddenly interested in the mention of the devil. "You think the devil deserves mercy?"

"Only He could give it to 'em," they said, gesturing at the sky lazily. "Does that mean... even the worst of the worst could still not be forgiven?"

They look up at the sky. "Do you think... our comrades could forgive us?"

Rok Soo grew quiet. He suddenly dreads this conversation.

They chuckled in resignation. "God, who am I kidding? If a God can't even forgive me, then how can--"

"Enough." Rok Soo sighed. "The soju is getting to you."

"Maybe it is," they hummed, leaning to him and closing their eyes. "I'm sorry."

Rok Soo stayed in his position, holding onto his bottle of soju and looking at it thoughtfully.

"You know," they began softly to him. "I may struggle in believing in my God, but not you."

"Never you."

[i-love-you-just-the-same]

Just watched a miles morales spiderman movie… so spiderman! gaz anyone? (this is not going to be canon complicit or probably be accurate at all LMAO) (this so has been done but its iconic so wtvr)

spiderman!gaz who gets bit right after he graduates high school. scares the fuck out of him when he starts attaching to walls and breaks his one of his mom’s favorite mugs. spends a lot of time alone and trying to figure out what's wrong in secluded places in public parks, etc. that's how you two meet--when he's climbing a tree with just his fingertips for grip.

gaz begs you not to say anything but you're just curiosity personified. "how'd you do that? what happened? oh my god you're practically a spider."

you two are together constantly from then on. same college, same interests, same work. you help him develop the web slingers and design a spider suit. you help with cases and scare him regularly. gaz is constantly taken by your bravery, but your willingness to put yourself in danger scares him. holds you close after you nearly get your head taken off by one of the villains. gaz realizes how much you mean to him in a moment like this.

he swoons like a lady in a romance in 1830s England when you help him patch up after a particularly horrible fight. it's all worth it to feel your fingers run down his face to clean up his spilled blood. your careful hands which piece him back together. kyle's so thankful when your done. shows it by tenderly washing his blood off your hands and kissing each finger softly. tomorrow he'll claim blood loss for his sappiness, but tonight he's all puppy eyes and asking if he can sleep in your bed with you.

he eventually has to rescue you while you're on a date that you did not inform him of. gaz gives you an earful for it ("god, doll, you can't just go off with random men without telling me. how am I gonna protect you if I don't know where you are or who you're with?"). next time you tell him about a date, he watches from the next rooftop over. the entire time (fuming). he's supposed to curl up beside you like a kitten, not that fucker. he has to keep himself from kicking the guys ass after when he sees the little kiss you press to his cheek. gaz needs it to be him for you, not some other bastard. he's spiderman for God's sake, how hard could it be?

gaz starts to try to make you jealous with the photographs on the news of him holding other people close. he gets more flirty with a girl in one of his classes and makes a show about it-- but he finds himself angry by your lack of attention.

it comes to a head one night when you're both walking to your home from his apartment. you've both had a few too many, but he wants to make sure you get home safely. gaz keeps an arm firmly wrapped around your waist. his mouth is too close to your hair, neck, and face. he's looking for anything to say you feel similarly, so when you tilt your head up to meet his eyes it goes batty. even more when you drunkenly slur "ky... you look sooo good when you're in your suit. swinging around..." and you giggle. like it's nothing at all, like his heart isn't in his throat, like you haven't given him the hope he's been looking for.

ends up with you two going to a party a few nights later after you and the other fellow break up (has nothing to do with gaz, sure). kyle wipes the streets the morning of to keep him from having to leave you. however, they'd have to pry him off you. keeps a hand at your waist or in tucked in yours for the entire night. leers at anyone who glances at you too long or any who make you the slightest bit uncomfortable. by the end of the night, he's made his intentions clear. so when you press your lips to his cheek in goodbye that night, gaz knows he's doomed to love you forever

[nobodyinfart]

Scones worthy of moans

Thank you so much for the notes, y’all I’m so honoured! Some of the reblogs are the funniest that I can’t help but choke on my laughter a lil 😭😭😭

Maybe this is just the addiction to the series Midnight Diner talking but, I adore the idea of a mysterious eatery around the base of Task Force 141. Although there is no publicity of the spot, chef! you get a comfortable amount of regulars thanks to your homestyle food that is noted to take customers to a new realm of comfort. 

Perhaps, as of late, you notice a guy that seems to be a personified example of Intimidating regularly visiting. Maybe it’s the black balaclava he wears that hides his features, or the bulky figure of the man that spooks you at first. Although, you must admit that his chiselled features makes him out to be quite a looker, despite you not having seen his face other than his mouth. 

Other than his appearance, another thing that sets him apart is his order; “Just a tea, a little bit of milk.” He muttered the first time, then proceeded to only refer to it as his ‘usual’ as if it's some sort of national secret. No matter the time or day, you are intrigued if just a cuppa makes him satisfied. And, obviously, you can’t help the curiosity. 

“You want some snacks with that? I’ve baked some scones earlier that’s fantastic with some jam,” You commented after some deliberation (especially since this man looks like he could crack you in half like you did to those eggshells a while ago). He paused just as he pulled the cup to his hands, before giving a stoic nod as he took a sip. The way you brightened at his compliant response had you dashing to the kitchen to bring them out with a fresh dollop of cream and a big spoonful of homemade jam. 

Unbeknownst to you, the man blinked as he watched you scurry to the kitchen and come out with something that smelled like heaven on a plate. Watching you tend to other customers, he bit into the scone and had to hold back a groan at how good it tasted. Crumbly and buttery, just the way he enjoyed his scones. You must be some sort of mindreader, even the tea he had was spot-on the first time. 

Looks like his ‘usual’ has expanded to include the scones. And that, Simon will be visiting this hidden spot a lot more often now.

[calamiitywrites]

— qimir x osha

apothecary headcanon: a headcanon, mostly from osha's pov, of the apothecary scene.

note from author: So, we've been lowkey talking about this scene on my oshamir discord server because I pointed out how watery osha's eyes are in the scene. It made me feel like there was so much going on in her head the entire time this scene was happening and I just wanted to put my own spin on her thoughts. this is all from my own theories so please do not adopt it as truth. I would actually love to see other interpretations of this scene so if you have one please let me know / comment etc. thanks! - calamiity

The moon was her only friend with the way that it hid her secrets in the night. She would have preferred to work under its cover, but Sol and the others demanded answers now—and so did she.

Mae, was alive. That meant that she had survived the fire and had been living all this time. Where had she been hiding? Why had she returned now? What drove her to kill Jedi, and for how long had she been doing so? — so many questions, but no answers to satiate them. Just an endless precession of her screaming into the void praying to hear something back. Only to be faced with the darkness no different than the darkness that surrounded her now.

It curled its impeccable fingers around her and danced against the midnight blue cloak that she threw on to her body to resemble the phantom who wore her face. It was both a comfort and a torment; a guise that filled her body with a level of unease so powerful that it made her body ache.

Each breath she took rattled against her lungs with a sense of self loathing and discomfort. she felt like a stranger in her own skin and the moment she walked into the apothecary shop, she felt as though she were a marionette manipulated by strings that were far too short to get the job done.

Her body moved slowly across the front window of the shop and her reflection caught her eye in a twisted mockery of reality. she was nothing more than a semblance of the sister she once knew, a stranger whose form inspired nothing but betrayal and anger. Every detail of her disguise was a contribution of the deceit that she was meant to embody. Her walk, her cloak, the intricate style of her hair and even her tone. How was she meant to personify a sister that she didn't know? They shared nothing but a face, a mere shadow of kinship. Why was it so difficult for them to get that, beneath the surface, their very essences were in contrast?

“Hello...” The word slipped from her lips with a voice that was distant and cold. So altered and strange that it reverberated with an unfamiliar authority which was in complete opposite to the trembling anxiety within her.

"Hello." He responded casually.

"Hi."

"Hi." he retorted, the simplicity of his reply holding a sense of humor that seemed to mock her. "You alright? You're back so early."

There was a subtle shift in his tone, a smooth transition from casual to what sounded like concern. This surprised her to the point where she was nearly startled. If he was really just someone that Mae had bought a poison from then why did he bear such an emotional weight? Even his transition from behind the counter to align himself with her and offer his full attention suggested a deeper connection. Was it possible that he and Mae were more to each other than she first thought?

His words were smooth and enigmatic the way they wrapped around her like a silken thread, pulling at her curiosity leaving her with no choice but to engage. she couldn't lie, the concern reflected in his tone pleased her. it reminded her of how sol used to interact with her before she began working on the ship.

Every muscle in her body tensed, every nerve was on edge and she struggled to maintain the fragile mask of composure. In an effort to save her face from falling into a look of utter despair, her eyes ventured off to the boiling pot in the distance for a distraction.

"I wanted to see you." It was a risky confession to play on her suspicions, but when his eyes lit up in response she lifted her chin in an effort to avoid the feeling of her facade threatening to suffocate her.

"To see me, oh....Mae ...uh are you ok? Did the poison work?" his surprise was clear and his confusion seemed genuine.

She couldn't suppress the slight nod of her head as the realization of her mistake set in. It was as if an audible light bulb had flickered to life in her mind, so loud that she feared he might hear it. If they weren't friends then what were they?

Her overall sense of confusion gave way to an overwhelming anger at the idea that she was even being forced to do this in the first place. She had devoted her entire life to the Jedi. Every step she made was meant to bring her closer to her dream of being her own person. Yet here she was, forced to embody someone else. Her life was meant to be her own, but the Jedi had made it relatively clear that the only value she had to them was if she became a mere shadow of herself. They simply needed her to play the role of Mae — to wear a deceitful mask to extract crucial information. There was no proving herself. There was no working her way up. She would never be good enough for them.

The only reason she wasn't a jedi now was because of the decisions of Mae. The reason her coven was dead was because of Mae. The reason she was arrested was because of Mae. The reason she was here, talking to him, right now, was because of Mae. Mae's decisions had stolen her life, claimed her coven, led to her arrest and now her every action was dictated by the remnants of Mae.

Mae. Mae. Mae.

Did anyone ever wonder about Osha? Did anyone ask how she felt about discovering her sister was alive? Did anyone question her thoughts on the possibility of capturing or even killing Mae?

"You're acting so strange." He continued, but she could barely hear him over her own thoughts.

It’s not fair. Why am I even here with him? The Jedi didn’t destroy our family; Mae did. Killing Indara, Kelnaka, Torbin, and Sol won’t undo any of that. Why can’t she just take responsibility for her actions? Why did she have to set that fire? Why did she have to cause all of this mess? I just want to be myself—why is that so selfish? I hate her. I shouldn’t hate her… she’s lost, confused. It’s wrong to harbor hatred for her. She’s my sister. She’s family. If I hate her, doesn’t that make me just as bad?

"Wait...You killed Torbin without the poison, he will be so pleased." he continued with a voice laced in satisfaction. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice that he had gotten closer to her. There was a brief moment of hesitation on her part where she had half a mind to back away, but it was too late.

"No I used it, I just wanted to thank you." her voice was barely above a whisper. She couldn't speak louder without revealing the tremor in her tone. She couldn't tell if it was rage or sorrow, but it was so intense that she could almost taste it. She was losing her control and the sight of his eyes on her simply made it worse. It was as if he were drinking in every movement she made, there was no room for error.

But it hurt. so. much. The pain of betrayal, the torment of loss, and the agony of deceit all came together, creating a storm that reflected in a rage behind her eyes. She was trapped in between her own chaos and the quiet atmosphere of his shop.

There is a sense of clarity in his eyes and they flickered to her lips in a way that was more intimate than what she was expecting. Did he see them quiver? Did he notice her attempt to keep them pressed together to stave off tears?

He moved again, closing the distance between them with a dangerous proximity that seemed almost predatory. It was something about the way his eyes looked at her that caused her to pause. It wasn't the casual look of concern like before, there was realization in his eyes. They searched her face and for a moment she could swear that he saw her.

"You look.....exactly like her." He muttered as if didn't mean to say it aloud. Even though his words were clear to her, she couldn't move. It was his eyes that held her in place. They searched her face, moved down her frame and drank in her posture in a way that made her feel exposed in more ways than one. It wasn't until his eyes returned to hers that she felt an ominous intent that she couldn't decipher, an edge that left her trembling.

She wanted to question him. She wanted to get to the bottom of his relationship with Mae and how he knew she wasn't her. But the distant, echoing sound of footsteps brought her back to the present. With a sharp intake of breath, she instinctively lifted her gun and stepped away from him.

The Jedi would get to the bottom of this.....

[nanaminokanojo]

Sukuna is a "badly written" villain because he "doesn't have a tragic backstory"? He's only driven by power so he's "not interesting"? 🤨🫨

I can name a lot more of those so-called "badly written", "uninteresting" villains who were acclaimed in the anime realm then, if Sukuna falls under that category for those reasons.

Maybe I'm biased, but from a literary standpoint, I must ask, why does a "good villain" according to these standards need to have a "tragic backstory"? Why does that have to be the reason why they're villains? Or why does tragedy have to be the motivation behind them being "bad"?

Why can't their drive for power (or whatever else) be the story itself? Why can't that be interesting?

Genuine questions out of curiosity. I just feel like it's a very traditional formula for villains when they can be written the way they are without the excuse or limitation of tragedy befalling them prior.

They came from something "tragic" or sad so it makes it easier to root for them? Who needs that excuse to like them/root for them?

*Garou from "One Punch Man" shaking in his boots for just wanting to hurt heroes 'cause he roots for villains, period*

Okay, Sukuna doesn't seem to have a clear-cut origin story in JJK apart from (A) apparently having to eat his twin in the womb while their mom starved herself in order for him to survive (his words in the manga), and (B) being this defeated sorcerer/curse, and deity slash monster people revered and feared at the same time (somewhat like hearsay in the story if it weren't for his fingers).

I don't know, but I feel like it's a unique approach to writing a villain and that vagueness about where he really came from makes him interesting to me. This is especially when I consider the proximity of his character to the Ryomen Sukuna in reality from which he was based

All the origin story of this minor god in Japan is also unclear and varied. He came from a cave, he's really not a person but a clan that resisted the ruling class, "Sukuna" is not a person but a term used for these people who were demonized for the same reason, he's an iteration of a Hindu god, he's the boogeyman parents used to scare their kids, he loves hotpot.

Either way, he's calamity personified and whether in reality or in Jujutsu Kaisen, he didn't need the excuse of human tragedy to be the way he is. Well, frankly, I think he's also incomparable to villains of human origin (which apparently equates to and stems from tragedy *cue The Bee Gees*).

So, does that make Sukuna a badly-written, uninteresting villain?

[kentstoji]

ㅤ ㅤㅤ‹ MANIA.

ㅤ ㅤㅤ‹ 𖤐 pairing. yandere!liu kang x gn! reader

ㅤ ㅤㅤ‹ 𖤐 setting. mk1 timeline.

ㅤ ㅤㅤ‹ 𖤐 type. headcanons.

ㅤㅤㅤ ٬ ✃ exuding calmness and gentleness with a single smile, liu kang's true intentions could harbor an even darker undertone. as a yandere he would be danger personified, after all, he was the creator of everything — and his will was the truth.

ㅤㅤㅤ ٬ ✃ when he envisioned a new era of peace — where even his rivals could attain the purest nirvanas —, you were not part of the already planned equation, of his design, nor were you a component present in his past. you were inexplicably new, something unknown and intriguing.

ㅤㅤㅤ ٬ ✃ he would be aware that his obsession was far from healthy, both for him, sensing the signs of growing mental and moral corrosion, and for you, losing contact with the outside world due to a whim, a curiosity.

ㅤㅤㅤ ٬ ✃ with this in mind, he would try to isolate you, trap you in a little world where there was space only for him. your friends? they were not trustworthy, not loyal.

ㅤㅤㅤ ٬ ✃ only he was worthy of your love, friendship, or any other kind of sentiment that he could cling and devour, relishing solely in having your presence. and anyone daring to cross his path, whether by creating obstacles in your relationship or capturing your attention for more than mere moments, would dearly pay the price.

ㅤㅤㅤ ٬ ✃ during warm nights, while liu kang's arms enveloped you in an initially comforting, welcoming, and loving embrace, he found himself lost in reveries of his past. he could perfectly visualize lord raiden's face — his mentor — contorting into something bitter, into discontent and disapproval. he imagined that if he saw him, he would be severely reprimanded for interfering in the fate of a mortal.

ㅤㅤㅤ ٬ ✃ "however", a small and distant voice echoed in his subconscious. the same voice that led kronika to corrupt herself and manipulate the timelines like a sick game. "raiden interfered countless times with fate. and that brought me here... to you"

ㅤㅤㅤ ٬ ✃ that velvety voice belonged to his obsession. abandoning what remained of his good sense, liu kang listened to it and descended his lips onto your forehead, in a gentle kiss while you were sleeping, in a world of fantasies and sweet dreams.

[thedarkheretic156]

VIII Eternal Flame VIII

The final moon before the feast dawns on the young demigod, and with it, it's threatening consequences.

Parts: ❧ I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX❧

Warnings: Fem Afab reader, she/her pronouns. Angst, mentions of death, violence, slight nsfw (if you squint).

Even as a child, I remembered how the fire dancers in the east would tell stories of the old. Their fires in hues I had never seen before. Deep crimsons and pale yellows with greens that rivalled rain forests. That was the first time I realised that every flame was different. 

The dancers moved and their long braids swished around them, their movements sharp and lithe, not missing a beat. Fire dancing was an old tradition, performed every year, one night before the feast of manana. It was called the ceremony of the Khar-moon, the incomplete moon.

It was less a form of entertainment and more of a ritual, a portrayal of faith towards the Goddess. They said that the performers practiced all year long just for those few minutes on stage. And it never failed to take my breath away, twirling on the stage, aglow with the torches behind them, the dancers looked like flames personified.

This year, I knew the story well. It was the same boring text my aunt had grated into my brain. She would even sit me down and make me recite it over and over, until the words clouded my thought the moment, I closed my eyes. So, it wasn’t surprising that I recognised it at once. They were telling the tale of ‘the hearth’. The beginning of all life. Or what we understood of it. 

The dancer dressed as the hearth was in silver and orange, their eyes lidded, a beacon of peace and tranquillity. The music fanned, low and rhythmic as the singer began the first song.  Their clear voice rang out, rippling through the crowd.

My palms sunk into the grass as I leaned forward eagerly. My aunt swatted my ankle, “sit properly!" but the swelling music drowned out her voice.

They sang of how every fire was born from the Hearth. Each eventually taking different forms. Dancers dressed in gold twirled around the Hearth. The fire of the stove, I recognised. Gold bangles glittered around their wrists as they moved, calling fire that looked like molten gold, its flames docile and controlled.

The music shifted suddenly, becoming faster, louder just as a dancer in scarlet jumped high from between them, red flames curling around their wrists. The flame that lights the torch for war.

All the flames gathered around the hearth and bowed deeply. Paying respect to the one that birthed them. And that’s the end of the story, I thought.

“Can we leave, father? -” I started and my aunt hissed me into silence. I furrowed my brow; was there more?

It was then that another dancer jumped up front, my heart jumped at the sudden action. Their clothes were blue, flowing around them like water, replicating the shades that flickered within my flames.

It was a harsh contrast to the others dressed in shades saffron. A stranger, an anomaly.

I remembered feeling a pit in my stomach, the curiosity I had for the play suddenly dissipating like someone had put out a candle.

My flames were blue.

And I wasn’t told this part of the story.

It did not bow to the hearth, the dancer flicked their blue robes arrogantly, the fabric rising like the audacious plume of a peacock. I gulped nervously as my aunt finally pulled me back on the seat. I heard her mutter sharply but my father shushed her down,

"Leave her be Hathor." He grumbled.

I felt my breath shallow. As the head clan, I sat with my family at the very front. Placed closest to the stage, second only to the Gods. It was the highest honour, something to wear with pride, yet I wanted to crawl away. I couldn’t help but curl my fist around my father’s robes in anticipation. While every eye was on the performer, I was the one who felt the burn of their gaze.

The blue flame was different. I was told I was born with divinity. But there was nothing divine about this flame Without a shred of warmth, something born in hell, far away from the fire of a hearth.

The flames that dance on a pyre.

An immortal bound in death.

Even now, years later, as I stared at the Khar-moon high in the sky I couldn’t help but remember the performance, the fire dancers, and the pit in my stomach.

One night before the feast of manana.

I tore my eyes away from the moon, no point in brooding over that now. I looked over at Sesshomaru and he was already halfway down the hill. Prideful steps, not even bothering to look over his shoulder. So, it had taken him about 4 seconds before he went back to his mutt like ways.

I shook my head, gathering the hem of my kimono so I wouldn’t trip and land on his head. Rin and Jaken could be anywhere down the mountain. And it was about time I greeted them.

❧ 

“It’s a human village.” I realised, “We’re staying here?” I asked, genuinely surprised. Sesshomaru and his disgust towards humans was more than apparent, why in the world would he set camp in a human village?

His eyes looked back as I trotted up to him. In the darkness of the night, it was hard to tell, but there something haunting about this place. I pulled my eyes towards the village again. There was a morbid silence that coveted the landscape. The small bamboo knit cottages looked empty, abandoned. Like a painting standing still before us, there was nothing alive in this village.

“It’s been deserted…” I stated. A strange nervousness settled in me,

“Humans.” He said, his voice basically a pained sigh, “cowardly creatures.” 

I started back at him in horror, what kind of a person thinks a deserted human village is a good resting spot? Even I knew that humans emptying out entire villages was bad news. And not just the ayakashi kind, the apocalyptic prophecy kind.

“It better not be plagued.” I tell him,

Sesshomaru just scoffed in response, “Try and keep up.” He replied, “I won’t come searching for you a second time.”

I gave him a sarcastic smile before starting to walk.

A singular fire burned in the still landscape, like a dying ember. Despite everything that had happened in this short period, I had always found myself back here. Maybe it was suiting that I spend my last night with them. The khar moon was already high in the sky, and I could feel the exhaustion of the travel weigh down on my shoulders. I dragged my feet down, trying to push unnecessary thoughts away. Spending your last night in a plagued town. I thought, how poetic.

❧ 

Jaken cried more than Rin. Which was surprising.

“W-what a r-relief.” Jaken sobbed out loudly, I looked over at the goblin grinning, “You did miss me how cute.”

Rin ran into an embrace, her wiry arms clutching onto my kimono like she was afraid to let go again. There wasn’t anything childlike in the way she cried, no angry tears, no broken sobs, just silent tears of relief. I stood frozen in my place, just…unsure. My arms felt like lead, and in that moment despite how glad I was to see the human child alive I couldn’t make myself show it.

Something tugged at my heart, but I pushed it aside at once.

Humans are delicate creatures. Death comes to them swiftly, whisking them away like they never existed. Befriend them and you live on with their ghosts.

I patted her head awkwardly, “Hey it’s okay.” I said. “I’m okay.”

The child pulled away reluctantly, she nodded wiping a runny nose with the back of her hand, “are you s-sure?” she sobbed out.

I stepped back so I could give her a turn, “All good, see?”

Rin gave me a skeptical look, “You don’t look very good.” She replied.

I threw back my head and laughed, my voice ringing out in the midnight sky. I looked down at the kimono I was wearing. It was one of Sango’s pink ones, and I had really put it through hell and back. “Do you have a spare?” I asked jokingly.

Rin peeked a smile watching me laugh, a sense of relief rushing to her face. “Follow me!” she chirped, the old self I knew slipping back. I grinned at the little skip in her step as she sprinting down towards the cottage. “It’s the one behind the big tree!” she said giddily, pointing towards a bamboo knit cottage. I grabbed the hem of my kimono, not realising the easy smile lacing my lips and ran after her.

❧ 

Jaken patted down his own tears, “I’m so glad you found her Lord Sesshomaru!” He said, “Rin must be so relieved now.”

Sesshomaru grunted in response, watching the human child skip towards the cottage and the woman clutching on to the all too big kimono to keep up with her. The two of them laughed, bare feet skidding on the dew-covered grass. A human world of their own.

It had been less than a month since the strange woman had appeared, Sesshomaru shook his head, he had saved her. He assured himself. Returned her safely, yet the daiyokai couldn’t seem to quiet his thoughts. The haunting stories of the infamous blood moon somehow sneaking up on him, ringing constantly at the back of his mind.

He tossed his hair over his shoulder, turning away. Once the wretched crimson moon had passed us, he thought, It’ll be quiet again.

❧ 

Rin grinned wide, stretching out her hands to show all the space we suddenly had. This cottage was way better than any we had come across before. With all the travelling and avoiding humans, there was hardly any liveable spaces to begin with. Much less an entire village. Rin dug into one the chests in the cottage pulling out spare clothes, they had even left clothes behind. 

This place… its like the humans had just randomly disappeared into thin air. They had left everything behind. Clothes, pots of grains and rice, children’s toys scattered on the grass like they had disappeared while playing.

I jumped as Jaken snored loudly in the background. This sound I had not missed.

Rin giggled at my expression, “Master Jaken couldn’t sleep at all, while you weren’t here.”

“That’s…” I started, “Surprising.” 

I took the new kimono Rin had offered me, finally pulled off Sango’s borrowed one I had on. Man I had really put these poor clothes through the apocalypse. Every time I got a new one, I’d just get attacked by something or the other.

Rin’s eyes pinned on the bandages, wide with worry,

She opened her mouth but the words seemed to hang in her throat.

“Someone very skilled helped me with it.” I assured her, although I didn’t know if kagome’s grass medicine could be categorized as very skilled, it had saved my life like it was ambrosia of the Gods. 

Naraku’s poison had quite literally charred through my skin, clumped out the flesh. Nothing I hadn’t seen before, but this mortal body didn’t heal the way my ayakashi one did.

“Does it still hurt?” she asked timidly.

“No.” I lied. 

Her thumbs fiddled with the hem of the checkered fabric, “Who was the woman that attacked us?”

“Does it matter?” I asked. “We run into ayakashi all the time.” I said, She was so young. I thought, at her age all I cared about was chasing fire birds and setting yokai on fire. She shouldn’t feel the need to carry that much.

“This one unfortunately was the bad kind, that’s all” I tried to convince her, the lesser she knew about all this mess the better.

Rin’s face fell regardless, 

What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I just thought…” Her voice wavered, lower lip quivering as she pulled on a brave façade, “I thought you got hurt.” She completed finally.

I turned on my side to look at her. Her eyes looked glassy from the tears, the runny nose and ears red from the cold, bony elbows sticking out of the blanket and a swelling mosquito bite on her cheek.

“No one would tell me what happened.” she said quietly. “Then Lord Sesshomaru left too, and I just had to wait here.” She completed.

Sudden anger flared in me, after everything she had witnessed, all he did was take off without a word? At least I was trying to make up lies.

“But it wasn’t just that.”  Rin replied, cheeks puffed from trying not to cry, “It was that other thing.”

I turned my head towards her, “What do you mean?”

Rin’s face paled, uncertainty flickering in her eyes, “I don’t know what it was.” She started,

And I felt my heart drop. “I-, I think I saw something when we met that woman in the forest.”

“It wasn’t her, it felt darker,” her voice quivered, “Meaner, like there was something more than just the lady before us.”

She gulped, eyes glazing as she tried to remember, “It was all around her looming over the forest, like a spider made of shadows,” she said softly. 

I felt myself holding my breath.

“It’s like I could feel how-” Tears welled up in her eyes again, “Wei, it wanted to hurt you so badly.” She croaked out.

Something bitter curled in my mouth,

Rin shook her head, her voice got very low, “I don’t even know if it was real, or I’m going crazy.”

She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, “but I know what I felt. I know it, even though I couldn’t see” her brow knitted in frustration, “And even though master Jaken said it was in my head.” her eyes finally met mine, she shuddered, “Am I crazy?”

I stared at her, out of all the things I thought she would have to say…

“You’re not crazy.” I told her, knowing that I should probably just agree with Jaken and tell her she dreamed it. Keeping her away from all of this mess was the best mercy I could grant her. And yet I couldn’t make myself lie to her. At the end of it she deserved to know the danger before us, something we would soon be facing down whether I like it or not.

“The spider…” my voice trailed, how much of everything do I even tell her. “He exists.” I confirmed.

Just the memory made the scars on my chest sting, “and he did want to hurt me.”

I pulled my eyes to the shadows on the hay roof of the cottage, dancing in the dark like the curling legs of the spider. His strength had completely caught me off guard and the helplessness I had felt in his clutches still haunted me. I hated to admit it but the thought that I would probably be dead before I see him again was relieving.

“Why?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

I shook my head, “What matters is that he couldn’t.” But he will try again and again. If he wants hellfire then I’m his only link to it. I pursed my lips,

Rin’s silence rang of hesitation.

“Lord Sesshomaru can protect us from him.” She finally said, trying to sound dutiful.

“Yeah.” I mimed out absently. Honestly I’d like to think that too. Sesshomaru hadn’t ever shown me the extent of his powers, But if Inuyasha and the others don’t stop him from mining that ore, maybe even the daiyokai of the east won’t be able to stop him.

“Could you sense him too?” she asked hopefully, “The way I did?”

I shook my head, “Not really.”

Thinking back to the encounter, my reaction was purely instinctual, I hadn’t even noticed naraku’s powers until after I was already in his void. It wasn’t uncommon for humas to see demons. But it was nearly impossible for them to sense their magic. And Rin had seen naraku’s miasma even before he had shown up.

My heart felt heavy, now the coincidences were getting too cruel.

“But,” I started, my mouth felt like sandpaper, “There are some humans who can see and sense more than others.” I told her.

In the east we called it the gift of Manana, blessed by the moon with the power of premonition. Someone who could see terrible things before they actually happened. Wei, the real Wei, had the same powers.

I gave her a pained smile, “Just think of it as a gift.”

Rin looked horrified, “I don’t want it.” She croaked out. “I don’t ever want to see anything like that again.”

“It’s not all too bad.” I replied, “I knew someone who had a similar ability. She could sense things, before they actually happened.”

Not that it prevented her death, I thought bitterly.

“So, I can learn how to control it?” Rin asked.

Wei had learned to control it, I remembered. It was painted in my mind like an ink scroll painting.

Her eyes lidded as she sat before the fire, and her face crinkling as I broke her meditation. She would hiss out of frustration when I continued to egg her on, her leaf green eyes opening wide, “even the toddlers in the village know better, y/n, Toddlers!”

I averted my eyes painfully, “I guess you can.”

Rin flexed her fingers as if expecting the magic to show up on her palms, “How do I do that?”

“I don’t know.” I replied quickly, pushing away the torrent of emotions that often-accompanied Wei’s memories.

“Maybe you could ask your friend.”

“No.” I replied sharply.

I can’t ask her. Not anymore.

They would have gotten along. I had realised that the moment I had met Rin. wet tears slipped down my cheekbones sliding over the shell of my ears.

"Wei are you crying?" Rin's sleep heavy voice called out,

I felt my vision grow cloudy. 

"No." I sniffled.

Rin hand threw an arm over my torso, "it's okay" the child mumbled, "I missed you too."

“You say you wouldn’t do that for anyone.” She had sniggered, twirling the scared bells around before bonking it on my head,

I pushed her hand away angrily and she had laughed, “But I bet you’d do that for me.”

I sat up suddenly. 

“Where are you going?” Rin asked,

“Go to sleep.” I told her, I ran a hand along the nape of my neck, it was drenched in sweat. The cottage was too warm, and my mind was too heavy with the thoughts. I pulled my hair up in a knot. It was my last night before my death, and I didn’t want to spend it under a covered roof.

❧

The spring looked prettier than usual, but it didn’t help that the water in it was biting cold.

I groaned as I lowered myself in the spring slowly. With the full moon on the morrow, there was no scarcity of moonlight. A view like that would have enchanted anyone, mortal or not. I sank into the numbing cold water, my fingers trailing over my arm absently. This body the curse had put me in had only started to feel like mine. It was brittle and lanky, so weak I dared not test its limits. But I had surprised myself with everything it did withstand.

Maybe it wasn’t that easy to kill humans after all.

With everything I had survived, I wondered how exactly death would come for me under the moon tomorrow. I let my head roll back in thought. I didn’t even have the capacity to think how I was to die tomorrow. I took in a deep breath pulling myself under the surface.

It felt calm underwater, the water cancelled out the sounds of the forest. God, what would I give to fall asleep under the surface just like this. This would be a nice death, like you’re drifting away to sleep. It would be a sad death; they probably wont even sing of me in the east. I stayed under water until my lungs screamed for air, eventually bopping my head up over the surface.

“human.”

His sight just left me frozen,

What the actual fuck was he doing here now.

It was a little pathetic how much I ogled him as he lowered himself into the spring slowly.

His body was that of a warrior, honed over the years, stripped with scars, some fading some brazen. I couldn’t imagine how many stories he had to tell about just the scars on his arms.

I tried to keep my eyes on his torso, trying not to dip any lower than the magenta marks around his waist.

But while the chilly mist rising from the spring was thick, it was not opaque enough. His shamelessness in my presence was surprising, but then again, he probably thought of me like a bug. Who covers themselves in front of insects?

Even in the hot spring, he settled down like a king on a throne. His silver hair pooled around him like molten starlight. With the damp hair matted across his forehead, and the slitted amber eyes peeking through the bangs, he looked every bit the god they painted him in the folk tales.

I averted my eyes awkwardly, heat rushing to my face. My body remembering the time he had actually let his reatsu out after we had hunted the boar. The way it had crawled over my senses, overwhelming me until I could feel it in the back of my throat- stop it. I screamed at myself, pressing my thighs together.

“What are you doing here?!” I snapped at him. Even after being in a human body my demon instinct still persisted and I did not have the time to deal with how badly my ayakashi-self wanted to ride him.

“Your scars.” He stated casually,

I looked down finally realising that I was also naked before him. I gulped, “urm, yes.” I replied awkwardly. In the moonlight it looked even worse than it actually was.

“It’s still poisoned.” He stated. “I can still smell his miasma off of you.”

I winced as he said that, brushing my fingers over the wounds. I had been afraid of that being the case, even without my ayakashi senses, I could feel the poison in the wounds, keeping them from healing properly. Remanets of his disgusting magic that have permanently branded themselves on my body.

“It will only fade in his death.” I sighed, a miasma like that is connected to an ayakashi’s soul.  

“You won’t have to wait too long for that.” He replied.

I felt very cold, “What do you mean?” I whispered out.

His voice sent chills ran down my spine. “Isn’t it obvious?” he snarled out, “I am going to seek out the spider.”

My jaw slacked, “what do you mean seek him out?”

His eyes flicked towards me, already annoyed, “Do you think I’m a coward that sits back silently, Human?” he growled,

I shook my head, “You cannot defeat him.”

He snarled in reply, the sound making the hair on my arms stand.

“Not another word-” He growled out.

I felt a lump in my throat as his amber eyes narrowed, they were truly a beautiful colour, I forced myself to think clearly, “You don’t know what he’s capable of.” I told him.

Sesshomaru grunted, “How strong he seemed to a human like you is irrelevant.” He replied, “To so much so as look at someone under my protection was a death sentence.”

“He will pay for this insolence towards me. For even thinking of challenging me. For a spider like that to do this…” he growled out, “How humiliating.”

What stung my heart was how familiar it all was. His words, ego masquerading as nobility. How selfish the words truly sounded.

It sounded like me.

“To you?” I scoffed out, my voice low.

“I am standing here and I can fucking feel what he did to my body.” I told him, the scars, the phantom pain, the fear will never wash away. “And you have the audacity to talk about how he slighted you?”

My breathing was heavy and angry. “Because that’s what it is, isn’t it?” I said, “you’re just worried about what the world will think of you, the great daiyokai bested by a spider.”

Tears pricked at my eyes, “She used to tell me revenge is selfish, and I… I just couldn’t understand her.” I mumbled out.

My shoulders slumped; I am a fool.

All my fucking life, I had created an idea of myself. The great demigod, a ruthless warrior, and I had truly believed I was meant to live that life. But in the end, it had all been so meaningless. What had that gotten me? I had lived through my immortal life haunted by Wei’s voice, buried under the weight of her death. Tortured by just the thoughts of all that could have been. The whole truth shattered around me into a million pieces. 

I buried my face in my fingers, my legs going very weak.

“What I thought would give her peace, was truly just a step I took for myself. I should have pressed that ego down. I should have stayed with her, somewhere I knew it was what my heart wanted. But I was scared that the act would be called too cowardly.”

“I failed her.” I completed. “I failed her in every way.”

The taunting voices in my head were dead silent.

“Tell me Sesshomaru.” I asked him, “Do you wish to kill him because by attacking me he questioned your authority? That you felt emasculated that someone under your protection was taken from right under your nose. Or is it truly because you wish to bring someone justice?”

He stared at me silently as I continued.

“There’s a difference, you know. A difference I just realised existed.” I shook my head, giving out a dry laugh.

“One you do for your own ego, to put someone who has defied you in their place. To tell the world that you aren’t the coward. The second…” my voice trailed away. Why hadn’t I understood such a simple thing when she was alive?

“What of the second, human?” he hissed out.

I looked up at the daiyokai sadly, “The second you do out of love.”

He actually laughed, which I soon realised was a lot more horrifying than his poker face.

He turned his head away, “It’s this trait of you humans that I cannot understand. You worry too much about your fragile lives, it’s foolish, weak.” 

I frowned, my own anger bubbling up to the surface.

“Not only that, you begged me to abandon you to save her.” He continued.

His amber eyes slitted, the mountains around us seemed to shift, “you are fooled if you think you’re not weak.”

 He’s exactly like me.

Rein in your temper daughter of the hills, the voices sang,

But you can’t put out fires from hell.

"You talk of how I'm lesser for saving Rin, yet you came crawling to search for me remember?!" I said pointing a wrinkly finger at him,

Sesshomaru looked like I had just slapped him across his face. The water around me chilled. I knew the moment I should stop yapping, but my bitter temper just continued to pour out.

“You’re the one that’s weak and cowardly.” I snarled out. “Cowering away under the guise of arrogance when all you have is your empty honour. Even the measly humans you seem to hate show more chivalry.”

His growl rang in my ears as he charged. Within a second his fingers were curled around my throat, pinning me down.

His hair fell around me like a rain of starlight, his ragged breath fanning my face as his fangs slipped out. My heart hammered in my chest, as he spoke, “You have constantly, tested my patience human.” His grip tightened around me, nails digging into my skin.

“Do it.” I spat out. The anger in his eyes flickered, taken aback with something of the same ferocity staring back. After everything I had gone through, with my death facing me down tomorrow, did he think a tantrum would scare me?

 “You’re only angry because I’m right.” I gurgled out. “Wei tried telling me that.” I told him, watching his brow furrow with confusion. His grip loosened and I pushed him away.

,It may be that mortal lives are delicate, but they aren't like flowers that wilt away. Many like battle scars leave their mark. They are immortalised in memories, daughter of the hills. Even bound to death, they are worth living.

“Maybe my death will make you realise that.”

❧

I strode towards the camp angrily, in my rage I hadn’t even dried myself, just draped my kimono over my body, screamed at him and left. 

I cringed a little, such dramatics. Couldn’t have just dried myself before making such impactful exit. Now the clothing along with me was sopping wet, water dripping down at my feet making small puddles as I walked back.

Something rustled making me halt. As I stared, a strange figure seemed to loom around the opening of the groove.

I furrowed my brow, the silhouette looked like that of a child that was crouched over. Did Rin follow me all the way here? I craned my neck, about to call her out when the figure spoke up first.

“Does mortality fare you well? Daughter of the hills?”

The voice was light and girlish, unrecognizable. My heart went still,

It couldn’t be.

The figure stepped forward, striding into the moonlight so I could see her.

It was a child, yet it wasn’t. The alarm that rang in my bones wasn’t from fear, it was recognition. The more I looked at her, the more inhuman she looked. Markings adorned her body, inky lines running up her face and arms, whorls made of runes mapped like galaxies on her body.

It was the same creature, that 14 moon before had appeared before me differently. My breath shallowed as time slowed around me.

The crone.

I raged towards the crone, but it felt like someone had tied boulders to my feet. Illusion magic? The invisible weight slammed me into the ground. The impact knocking the breath out of me.

She pointed a chubby finger at my face, “Have you learned nothing?”

I looked up at her aghast, the girl was no bigger than Rin, barefoot with windswept hair like she had just casually wandered out of a nearby village. She tossed a flat- stone between her hands, giving me a grin that missed a front tooth. “By now you should know you can’t compete with me.”

I growled angrily at her words, my nails dug into palms so hard I drew blood, while, she just watched me a mocking smile.

I knew it was the unnerving eyes, the iris was completely white, blinded by a cloudy white haze, like the moon peeking from behind clouds. Her unyielding gaze was pinned on me. I knew in that moment it was nothing but her gaze that had pinned me to the ground.

Don’t fucking stay down this time.

I pushed through the invisible weight with everything I had. The more I struggled against it the worse it seemed to get, gripping down my bones until they broke. I screamed through the pain, the pressure sending a stream of blood down my nose. The first time I couldn’t face her, this time- I will not go down that easily. With spots dancing before my eyes, I managed to drag myself up to my knees. My smouldering gaze finally met her, “Give m-!”

Within a second the pressure doubled, it felt like someone had grabbed my shoulders and slammed me back into the ground with a thud.

“Mmph!”

She put a hand to her ear theatrically, “I’m sorry, what was that?” the cheeky tone of her voice really pissed me off. “Couldn’t hear you with your face planted in the dirt.”

I looked up at her painfully, spitting out grass. “Give me...” I growled out. “My powers back.”

The kid gave me a toothy grin, “Even if I did,” She said cheekily, “You know your current body won’t be able to contain it right? Your flames are so ruthless, they won’t even show their own master any mercy.” She giggled as if it was the funniest thing in the world, “They’ll roast you from the inside out!”

I looked at her morbidly, “I miss the crone.”

The girl laughed, “We’re not much different.” 

“Why are you here?” I asked. “What more could you possibly want?” I told her, “You have taken everything. Everything.”

My neck felt like it was going to snap from the pressure, “My powers, my body, everything that made me, myself. You stripped me of my very being” I cried out.

The creature sighed, “yes, how unfortunate.”

My anger surfaced again “You vile masochistic demon.” I snarled out, thrashing on the ground as the invisible force continued to pin me, “What did you gain by putting me through all of this?”

The child arched an eyebrow,

“So your mother levelling mountains because someone ticked her off is divine, but me cursing a sad demigod is vile?” She challenged, “Such double standards.” She said clicking her tongue, “I was right the first time, your ayakashi blood does make you stupid.”

My eyes widened, my mother?

I felt my mouth go very dry, I should have figure that the scorching light wasn’t just any spell, it was divine spirit energy. No ayakashi can put curses out like that. No, I realised bitterly, it wasn’t a curse at all, it was a prophecy.

A Goddess.

She could bend everything that the moonlight fell over. Bathed in divine light, the goddess of the crimson moon.

Just like the different phases of the moon she appears different each time.

Oh seven hells. Maybe I should apologise for calling her a masochist.

My jaw tightened, “You’re her.” I gasped out, goosebumps flooding my body, “You are Manana.”

A ghost of a smile played at her lips, the blind eyes crinkling at the sound of her name, “Well then,” she said, sounding very pleased. “Now that you know, we can actually begin.”

“What do you want?” I said, feeling the exhaustion in my bones. I had fought for this stupid human life for days, scrambling to keep myself alive. I hadn’t expected mortality to be so heavy.

“What I want?” She asked, giving out another laugh, “I thought you would be rubbing your nose at my feet begging me to spare your life tomorrow.” She completed. “Tell me daughter of the hills, do you not fear the fate tomorrow’s crimson moon will bring you?”

Considering how much it did scare me, I should have been begging her for life. For most demigods in the stories, begging for mercy to a Goddess worked out well.

“Unless..” She picked up on my thoughts, “That’s no longer what you wish for.”

I pulled myself to tell her what was truly ripping me from the inside, “If Naraku holds my dying heart, he’ll get his hands on hellfire.” I said,

“But my death will prevent that” I explained flatly, “There won’t be a beating heart to hold.” I told her bitterly. My eyes met her’s with a broken smile, “it’s not much, but I can accept a death like that.” It’s the best defence I can provide the others.

The ends of her mouth twitched, “Are you really naive enough to believe that something so mundane as death would stop him?” She replied, “There’s no stopping his ambition. He’ll find a way to attain your flames even if he has to carve out your corpse.”

 No. I mouthed.

“That’s not what was supposed to happen.” I whispered out, my throat going very dry, my death won’t matter. He will continue to hunt everyone I will leave behind.

I curled my fists, “You don’t understand, this isn’t just about me anymore.” I looked up at her, trying to gather any shred of sympathy. “If he gets his hands on my flames, I–“ I shook my head, “I don’t even know what all he would be capable of.” I looked up at sudden desperation closing up my throat, “No one else understands.”

“Not Sesshomaru not inuyasha and the others, they don’t fucking understand how powerful he is.” But I do.

I felt the brunt of his powers firsthand, the poison in his miasma and how his talons tried to carve out my heart. “They will not be able to stand up to him.”

“And?” she asked.

My words faltered, “And?” I cried out angrily, My voice cracked, “The death and destruction he will bring would be a thousand times worse than what I did.”

“Human lives obviously.” The Goddess said, “Naraku’s descent into power will spark a war bartered in lives, ayakashi and humans.” She flicked the flat-stone and it disappeared mid-air.

“But it’s a war that does not concern you.” She said, “It is something you won’t even have to deal with at all. What has changed so much, that it has you pleading, daughter of the hills?”

“That doesn’t…” I pursed my lips, no longer knowing what exactly to say. I will die tomorrow. And whatever fucked up shit naraku is brewing I won’t be a part of it. Wasn’t that the easiest way out of it?

“I can’t just leave now.” I said finally, my head dropped, No matter how much the fire clan sang about glorious deaths, and how much I thought I desired a gore-y end on a battlefield. I realized I wanted to live. Even as a sad, unattractive, mortal, mountain girl. I still wanted to live. Especially now. Especially now that I’m-

My voice quivered, “I’m leaving behind too much.” I rasped out. “With my hellfire, I can give them a chance.”

“What does it really matter which tyrant holds the flames?” She tilted her head, “Do you think he would use it any different than what you did?”

The world around me went very still. Hellfire isn’t something I deserved either.  

I begged her, “I know… I know I deserve my end.” I bowed to the divinity before, surrendering every sense of ego I had, “So please, Please” -

I thought of Rin and Kagome, and all those who had shown me so much kindness. They would all fall under his hand, hounded by my flames. The same flames I could have used to protect them. Even if I can’t change my destiny.

“I don’t have anything else to barter.” I replied, “You already have my life, so I can only beg this to you.”

“You can’t let Naraku get my flames.” I told her,

“I don’t care what you have to do to this body for that.” I continued, burned, eaten by animals, “Whatever brutal death I’m fated to tomorrow” I said, “Please, make sure it rids my entire existence, and I’ll pull my hellfire back into hell with me.”

There was a momentary silence, where I thought, she would start laughing again. But the Goddess just hummed curiously.

“Fine then, daughter of the hills.” She spoke, the voice ringing out hauntingly in the grove.

My eyes widened

“Tomorrow when death comes for you, I’ll allow you a chance.”

The Goddess beckoned her powers and magic shook the forest awake. I could feel the ancient, strange spirits of the forest peek over the shadows around us. Stirring from years of slumber to witness another prophecy.

Her white iris gleamed, “Just one.”

I stared at her in absolute silence. Just like the first time I had encountered her, the temperature around me dropped, making my ears ring painfully.

The tips of her lip curled, “I’ll give you one chance to change your destiny, where you can seize back your flames, return to a life of immortality.”

As I watched, the markings on her face began to glow, knowing what was coming I shielded my eyes from the blinding light. It still seemed to sear into my skin, like I had embraced a burning star.

“Daughter of the hills, death will come for you under the crimson moon.” Her voice boomed around me, “But as the blood moon rises for my feast, I shall grant you one final bargain. Take it, and you’ll find your flames again.”

When the light died, I was still on the ground, my kimono soiled from dirt and sweat. As I came to myself, I felt my heart hammer in my chest, a singular thought running in my mind.

Even if the earth splits open and the sky shatters around me, even if it was nearly impossible, even if I only had one chance, somehow, anyhow, I had to survive.

❧

“Wei!” Rin called out in the darkness and I jumped.

In the dark she looked like a little tent, sitting up on her knees the moment I walked back into the cottage.

“Didn’t I tell you to sleep?” I sighed,

The child looked at me expectantly, “I was thinking about what you said earlier.”

I shook my head, far too exhausted to think about this again, “Rin I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“Hear me out.” She persisted as I dropped down on the mattress beside her.

“Next time.” She told me, “When I see something, we can just run away together.”   

She said it with such sincerity I wheezed. That did seem like a simpler solution.

“Don’t laugh!” Rin said, her fingers tugged the sleeve of my kimono, “Promise me.” She said seriously, “Promise me that the next time we’re in danger you won’t stay back alone.” her sound was barely was a whisper, but it hung in the icy air like a sword over my neck.

“Promise me that we’ll run away together.” 

I stared back at her,

One chance.

I tried to give her a small smile. One

A fool’s bargain, yet a bargain nonetheless.

“I promise.”

❧

GUESS WHICH SLOTH JUST UPLOADED?????

[xxstraymoonchildxx]

This Couple is Unusual

Prev./Next

Chapter 5 This couple, coffin talk

cw: flashback lesson 16 OM

The first time you died was during your first school year in the Devildom. 

You have felt bad for him, being stuck in this stuffy attic all by himself. He had reached out to you early on, a whisper in the night, urging you up the stairs. That Lucifer tried to stop you only fueled your curiosity.

The big bad brother who locked the youngest up after an argument. Of course, you made pacts with the other five brothers to break the magical lock to the attic. 

He was so grateful, pulling you into a warm embrace.

He hugged you tightly.

“You humans really are foolish, idiotic, weak creatures, aren’t you?”

Tighter. 

You couldn’t move.

“Hehe. Does it hurt? Finding it hard to breathe? I’m sure it must be very unpleasant.”

Tighter. 

“You’re so stupid that I can’t help but laugh. Don’t blame me for tricking you, blame yourself for falling for it.”

Tighter. 

“I hate humans. I hate them more than anything in the three worlds-”

Your ribcage cracked, puncturing your insides.

“And I hate you!”

Why this particular scene flashed before your eyes, you didn’t know for you had already forgiven him. The time you sacrificed yourself for Lucifer or several other instances you had put yourself in immediate danger would have left a better taste in your mouth. 

Now, a scythe's polished, pointy tip was millimeters away from your face. It would have pierced through your left orbit if you didn’t bend backward the time and way you did thanks to Luke’s blessing no doubt. The sharp edge of the death dealer ominously glistened in the candlelight. 

“Didn’t you know that curiosity killed the cat, my dear?” a voice croaked to your right, amusement resonating within. From your peripheral vision, you could see his dark boots that had no business having this many belts (nor him having legs this long).

“But satisfaction brought it back,” you breathed out, voice shaky. A bead of sweat of fear trickled down your temple as the rapid beating of your heart continued.

Undertaker chuckled and pulled the scythe away from you, lovingly grazing the smooth side of the cutting blade. You stared at the tool that was not designed to cut grass or harvest grains. It had the shape of an elongated bone structure; the edge of the blade ended in a skull that was decorated with thorns around the forehead and the shaft went directly into the skeletal thorax with all its components. 

He held out his free hand for you to take, pulling you upward. His skin felt weird to the touch, neither warm nor cold. Just like Thirteen’s. Undertaker gently turned your hand, thumb striking over the seal on the back before letting go, making you wonder if he recognized the sigil that proved your affiliation with the Sorcerer’s Society or the ring of light around on your finger. He eventually took a step backward, giving you a moment to ogle him.

Actually, without being fully veiled by his black overcoat, revealing a matching dark robe, and without his crooked top hat Undertaker even kind of looked … attractive there and then. His choice of clothing and jewelry was interesting for his time, if not ahead of it.

Moreover, with the murder weapon at hand, he didn’t look like a demented oddball anymore but the personified harbinger of death. A grim reaper, a Shinigami.

Oh.

Oh.

Now you knew he recognized you as a sorcerer and some other things about him started to make sense.

Undertaker stored his scythe away, locking the closet with a satisfying click. His lips were curled upwards when he turned back around. Since his bangs covered the upper half of his face, you couldn’t read his true emotions. 

/I wonder if he has phosphorescent eyes, too./

“Heh, be more careful when snooping around, unless you’re dying to experience my coffins firsthand,” Undertaker said, snickering at his own little pun at the end.

“Err, it’s definitely not on my bucket list for 1888. Dying ain’t fun,” you quickly denied, mumbling the last part. You awkwardly rubbed your sweaty neck when you felt him staring from behind his long bangs. 

Wait, he couldn’t know what a bucket list is, couldn’t he? 

“A bucket list is a to-do list before ‘kicking the bucket’,” you quickly explained. 

The mortician hummed “Interesting choice of words. Although, even if it’s the basis of my work, I understand death is undesirable - but - maybe such topics should be discussed over a cuppa and biscuits, don’t you think? You’re still shaken.”

This is how you ended up sitting on one of his coffins across from him, a measuring beaker with black tea in hand. 

Undertaker, who sat cross-legged on another death box, held out a black urn toward you, silently instructing you to take whatever was inside. Having lived in the Devildom for so long nothing food-related should and could surprise you anymore. 

Still, you must have looked baffled when you fished a biscuit in the form of a dog bone from the alienated cookie jar because the silver-haired man let out a little cackle. “Go ahead, they’re delicious, I promise~”

He was right, they were! The sweet taste was welcomed after your near-death experience. 

“Gosh, you need to give me the recipe for these. I’ve got some baking-loving friends back home.”

“Hmm, I might, if you pay me with a good laugh, of course,” he answered cheekily, bouncing his crossed-over leg.

“Wait, for real? … Let me think about one…”

Undertaker waited patiently, munching on his treat. 

“Okay, you see, my favorite childhood memory is building sandcastles with my dear grandfather – well, that was until my mother took his ashes away.”

…

Turned out that simultaneously eating and laughing was not a good idea. 

The silver-haired choked on the cookie as the laugh got stuck in his throat, bending over, battering his chest with suppressed giggles (why) while you shot up in a panic, refilling his cup. “Oh my god, are you alright?”

He made a gesture of refusal with his hand, knocking the beverage back.

“That was a killer, young Miss,” he said once you two calmed down, acting like nothing happened.

“I have yet to ask what I owe the pleasure. I assume you're still busy with the murder case, hm?”

You lowered the recipe Undertaker gave you beforehand, regarding him with a mirthful grin. “Nope. I was gift hunting for the family and ended up in front of your store by chance. Maybe it was fate? For the article, well, I don't think the Queen's cute little watchdog would let us publish anything remotely true once he finds out who Jack the Ripper is.”

Undertaker’s lips curled into a grin as well “Oh, you figured it out?”

“Yep. Yesterday's event confirmed our suspicion. Not that you sound surprised at all, tho.” 

“I had a feeling you’ll succeed. I’m sure the young Earl won’t be far behind for he is the good lapdog of Her Majesty.”

You made a face “Never have I imagined a child being responsible for resolving the disruption of the general society. Seriously, putting himself in danger like that.” 

“And that collar will choke him someday,” Undertaker said, his voice dropping an octave. “If not for his self-imposed duty, his butler will certainly be his undoing.”

“Well, if the Earl can’t find a way to circumvent his contract, that is, even for a certain amount of time. Employers tend to find a way to go around their agreements, so it’s technically not impossible.”

The mortician tapped his lips with his index. A grimoire - he hadn’t considered this possibility for they are seldom found. It would require Sebastian Michaelis’ true name and free access to Hell. However, different matters solicited his attention; exempli gratia Karnstein, so he would keep your words in mind. An interesting human you were; just maybe …

A low vibrating sound broke his thoughts. 

“Shit, I hate to cut our talk short but…” you said, eyes fixating on the screen of the D.D.D. you halfway pulled out of your dress pocket “...look at the time. Sata- err, my husband is expecting me soon and I still have to make the way back.”

You pushed the phone back and walked up to him.

“Thank you for the tea and cookies. I don’t know how long we’ll stay in London but I hope we meet again before we leave.” 

You gave Undertaker your brightest smile, surprising the Shinigami but he gently held your outstretched hand. Hands he had taken souls with.

“Likewise, young lady. Be careful on your way back. You never know what lurks around the corner.”

“Noted!”

You took your bag from where you nearly met your untimely end and walked to the door. Grabbing the knob, you turned your head backward. 

Feeling bold, you let a slight gust of wind whip around his face, revealing his odd green eyes that widened slightly at your display of magic. Proud of yourself, you winked and waved goodbye, your smile branding itself into his mind.

Laugher filled his empty store.

“What an interesting sorcerer~”

Hello folks! Writing this chapter was really hard for some reason and I struggled with the decision of putting a scene in or not. As you can see, this chapter is rather short, meaning I cut a scene out. It involved the harassment of MC. (In Victorian London some men were pathetic and walked up to unaccompanied women, even from higher ranks, assuming they were streetwalkers. In this case, the reader would have been approached by Grell with the idea in mind to make the case more personal. I'm not sure I handled this well enough in my draft, so here we are)