#I pity all the humans and other creatures that were left on the planet after that just staring at the turtles being happy and are like:

[clover-the-awesomest]

I actually think I saw this before so-

yay

still hurts tho

tw blood

pt. 8 | pt. 10

I am dead…

[obscurushydrae]

TIMELINE

Note: This is ONLY for her Main/BPRD Verse. This does NOT affect any side verses. This is a mix of the comic canon, Del Toro canon, and few tweaks because I can.

Primordial Times:

Anum, one of the Watchers (the first guardians of the world) steals the vril fire of creation and creates the Ogdru Jahad from mud.

The Odgru Jahad spawn 369 Ogdru Hem, and begin destroying the primordial world.

Kar Hem, the 369th Ogdru Hem is born, still in her egg.

The Watchers seal the Ogdru Hem and Ogdru Jahad away

A Watcher who has taken pity on the small creature, saves the primordial egg, putting it in a place where it can dream peacefully and never cause harm.

As punishment for creating them, Anum is dismembered, his parts discarded to the winds, save his right hand, stored in amber. This would eventually become the Right Hand of Doom. The other Watchers are cast into a realm that will eventually become Hell. They are now called the first fallen or Titans. The being known to mythology as Tartarus reigns as king, until the Titanomachy, where Hades takes the throne as per Zeus' promise. The dethroned Tartarus now serves as a warden for his titan siblings in the depths of his former domain.

Lesser spirits and beings populate the new world, becoming the gods/fae/spirits we know today.

Lucifer Morningstar rebels. He and his rebel angels are cast into the pit. They become the second fallen and spawn demon kind. He declares himself Emperor of Hell and conquers part of the Underworld. He forces his titanic prisoners of war to build his throne and the city of Pandemonium.

Hecate steals the primordial egg in a ritual to create a child, known as Makaria. The abomination breaks all laws of cosmic order, but the Fates state the child may live as it will serve the Fates in due time.

Before 110,000 BCE:

What is known as the Hyperborean Empire is established, spreading across the planet

~20,000 - 10,000 BCE:

Anum is worshipped as a deity, his hand removed from amber and put on display in a statue in the capital city of Gornium.

King Thoth the Wise rises to power. He writes his knowledge into 42 books, knowledge gained from capturing 3 of the original Watchers and keeping them captive in his secret garden. Only 2 of the books are made public.

The Empire reaches a golden age of expansion, Thoth granting seven of his sons sever vril maidens to power and protect seven new colonies:  Thadrethes, Leto, Hypos, Urrasan, Lemuria, Mu, and Atlantis.

Hecate arrives in Gornium, eventually ingratiating herself in the court and seducing Thoth. This begins the downfall of Gornium and the Hyperborean Empire. Learning the secrets of his knowledge and Watchers, Hecate slaughters the Watchers and writes the hidden knowledge over the temple with their blood.

Thoth curses Hecate for her transgressions, leaving her unable to stand direct contact with the sunlight. This causes a schism in the Empire; the cult of the Black Goddess supporting Hecate and the followers of Anum and Thoth. 

The Black Goddess cult devolved into a violent, bloody people, committing mass atrocities and war with the followers of Anum. The priests of Anum kidnap the godling Makaria. Hecate demands that Makaria be returned to her. The child is sealed in a black stone sarcophagus by the Priests of Anum. Denying Hecate once more the child she has since longed to have returned.

The statue of Anum becomes self-aware as a reaction to the conflict, destroying the rest of the Gornium and ending the Empire, forcing both underground. Hecate’s followers became the Followers of the Left Hand and were eventually slaughtered by their enslaved creature. Anum’s Followers of the Right Hand survive in pockets underground until today.

The Seven Cities survive for some time after the conflict but even they too seem to fall into obscurity.

~10,000 BCE : The rise of contemporary human civilization as we know it in the Fertile Crescent.

~1300s BCE: Panya is born in the reign of Akhenaten in Egypt.

“Past” History:

 1533: Roger is created by an alchemist in Romania

1547: Sarah Hughes, a witch descended from Morgan Le Fay and Arthur Pendragon becomes the bride of Azzael, Duke of Hell on Walpurgis Night. They conceive the cambion that would eventually become Hellboy.

1617: October 6: Sarah Hughes dies and is claimed by Azzael, giving birth to Anung Un Rama, also known later as Hellboy. He is the first male of the Pendragon line since Mordred, and rightful king of England. 

1856: September 16: Sir Edward Grey is born

1859: November 24: Panya is unwrapped as part of an unwrapping party hosted by member of the Heliopic Brotherhood of Ra. A one Langdon Caul is in attendance.

1869: Spring: After noticing some slaughtered cows, a young Edward Grey investigates, leading to the revelation that the son of the local lord is a werewolf. He becomes a local celebrity in Wessex, known for being around supernatural happenings.

1879: February: After foiling a plot by a small circle of witches threatening the Queen, Edward Grey is knighted by Queen Victoria and becomes the official occult investigator for the crown. He is given the title Witchfinder, and becomes a sort of pulp hero.

1885: Langdon Everett Caul, a merchant involved with the Oannes Society, engages in a ritual involving an egg totem recovered from the sea. It would transform him into an amphibious being. He would be abandoned sometime after.

1889: After Queen Victoria suppresses the identity of Jack the Ripper, Sir Edward leaves her service to become a private occult investigator.

Modern History:

1902: Varvara, the bastard child of Rasputin is born in the Russian Empire.

1913: Seeking to gain some money from her father, Varvara’s mother tries to introduce the girl to her biological father. They are turned away and left to die in the snow. The demon Yomael possesses the girl and creates the Varvara we know

1916:

February: Sir Edward investigates happenings in Chicago related to the Heliopic Brotherhood of Ra and the Duke of Hell Amdusias. He is never seen again. Cursed by Amdusias to be immortal, he was them cut into pieces, leaving on the banks of the Acheron. Lesser demons took pity and put the man back together, waiting for the day when Anung Un Rama would meet his destiny…

Trevor Bruttenholm is born.

December 30th: Grigori Rasputin is invited to dinner where he is poisoned, shot, stabbed, castrated, and drowned. As he drowns in the Neva, he is called by the Ogdru Jahad, becoming their herald. He begins to be their vessel by which to bring about their return.

1923: WWI deserter Raimund Destiel becomes what is known as The (first) Black Flame.

1932: The first signs of a vigilante called “The Lobster” targeting gangs in the US after one is found branded with a lobster claw-like symbol on their head. Conflict with one of these gangs leads to a run-in with the Black Flame.

1937: Rasputin, along with Ilsa Haupstein and the help of Nazi scientists, begins what will be Project Ragna Rok.

1938: The Lobster works with the US Government investigating some strange occurrences and capturing Nazi criminals/scientists.

1939: The Lobster is rumored to be KIA at Hunte Castle, the lair of one Herman Von Klempt, foiling an attempt for creates a Nazi space program. The Lobster eventually evolves into the public consciousness as Lobster Johnson, the pulp hero.

1943: Trevor Bruttenholm Graduates from Oxford University, and is recruited as a codebreaker for the British Army under the SOE.

1944:

Trevor Bruttenholm creates and leads the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense after being appointed occult advisor to President Roosevelt (and the OSS) to target Nazi occult threats

May: Project Epimetheus begins. The US attempted to control the vril energy using a power suit, leading to the creation of the Epimetheus Suit/Sledgehammer. Following the death of its test subject, the armor became possessed, with the determination of wiping out the Nazi threat, killing the first Black Flame.

December 23rd: Hellboy arrives from Hell in a church on an island off the coast of Scotland after the Allies botch Rasputin’s attempt to bring the Ogdru Jahad back as a Nazi weapon (Project Ragna Rok). He is adopted by Trevor Bruttenholm and raised in the BPRD.

1945: January: following combat, the Epimetheus suit is stored away in a military facility in the Rocky Mountains. (It would later become a secondary base for the BPRD.)

1946: 

Johann Kraus is born.

Soviet Russia creates the Special Sciences Services in response to the BPRD. A peculiar little girl Varvara is chosen as its Director.

1952: Hellboy is given honorary human status by the UN and begins his service as a full-fledged Agent.

1956: Varavara is captured and sealed away by Iosif Nichyako, a magically animated corpse, taking control of the Special Sciences Services. 

1958:

Kate Corrigan is born

Thomas Manning is born

1962: 

April 15th: Elizabeth Sherman is born.

1973: An incident with the neighborhood children causes Liz’ pyrokinesis to go out of control, killing her immediate family. The Bureau is involved in a custody battle between Liz’s extended family, who do not believe she is the cause.

1974: After another flare-up, Liz is delivered into the BPRD’s custody.

1976: Thomas Manning joins the BPRD as a field agent.

1978: Abraham Sapien, is found in an abandoned room in St. Trinian’s Hospital. He is the product of the Oannes Society experimentations.

1979: Abraham Sapien becomes an official Agent.

1980: 

Liz Sherman becomes an official agent.

Thomas Manning becomes Assistant Director of the BPRD.

1982: Trevor Bruttenholm retires as Director of the BPRD giving the role to Thomas Manning.

1983: Kate becomes a BPRD Consultant.

1985: January 26th: The “official” birthdate of Kar Aster, according to BPRD Records.

1989: Mid-Late: An expedition to Greenland recovers artifacts rumored to be Hyperborean. Among them is a small, black sarcophagus.

1990: January: The sarcophagus is exhumed, surprising researchers and Professor Bruttenholm when the inhabitant is found alive as if sleeping. The girl is called Kar, after the scratched engraving found on the sarcophagus. She is made an official ward of the Bureau.

1992: The descendants of Elihu Cavendish and Trevor Bruttenholm strike up a friendship and discuss an arctic expedition, following the evidence of Hyperborea found in Greenland.

1993: Along with Sven Olafsson, the Cavendish brothers and Bruttenholm take an expedition to the Arctic Circle, finding the ruins of Gornium, and disturbing a statue of Sadu Hem. The Cavendish brothers and Olafsson are turned into frog monsters, and Bruttenholm is presumed dead.

1994: 

Nearly a year missing, Trevor Bruttenholm returns alive with a gap in his memory. This leads to the First Cavendish Hall Incident. 

Rasputin, using the three frog monsters, lures Hellboy to Cavendish Hall in hopes of triggering the beginning of the end. He is “killed” by Abe, possessed by Elihu Cavendish. Manning declares a sweep of the ruins every six months for any life signs indefinitely.

Kate’s first mission as an Agent.

1995:  At 10 years old, Kar is eventually given honorary human status by the UN and is fostered by Drs. Frankie Aster and Ava Coen in New York. The Bureau remains involved with her life. She is converted to Judaism and given the Hebrew name Masha Yehudit.

1996: Fenix Espejo is born.

1997: Roger, a homunculus, is recovered from his creator’s castle in Romania and made an Agent.

1998: Kar celebrates her bat mitzvah in New York.

1999:

A 14-year-old Kar starts her undergraduate studies at NYU.

Kate becomes Director of Field Operations.

Contemporary History:

2001: Benjamin Daimio is attacked while on a mission in Bolivia. A jaguar spirit shares his body and saves his life-- at a cost. He is put into the Pentagon’s Special Operations and an informal consultant of the BPRD.

2002: February: A tampered figurine in China causes a shockwave in the ethereal plane. Johann’s body is destroyed by it during a routine seance. 

2004: 

2003:

Kar graduates NYU with a BSci.

Kar officially becomes a BPRD Agent.

Trevor Bruttenholm is killed in his study by Rasputin-- or rather his creature Kroenen.

Rasputin once again tries to bring the Ogdru Jahad back to earth using Hellboy. It fails.

Following the death of her father, Kar disappears one night without any notice until it is too late. Thus begins almost a year of out-of-control behavior and self-medicating with drugs and alcohol to cope with the loss. 

2005: Kar is recovered by the BPRD in the clutches of the Order of the Ebon Serpent, one of Hecate's cults. After a traumatic reunion with her mother she is put under Bureau observation once more. Shortly after recovery, she is enrolled and sent off to the UK for graduate school. Despite official statements saying this is voluntary, those close remain suspicious, given the events.

2006:

Prince Nuada declares war on the human world and intends to revive the mythical Golden Army. Hellboy defeats him and seals the army away, never to be used.

Johann Krauss joins the BPRD.

2007: Liz leaves the BPRD, traveling to a Monastery in order to learn how to control her powers.

2008: 

Hellboy leaves the BPRD for Africa. He is not heard from for over a decade.

Benjamin Daimio leaves the Pentagon to formally join the BPRD to replace Hellboy.

Kar spends time between South Asia and the Levant as part of her doctoral thesis.

Plague of Frogs

2009: 

A piece of fungus is recovered from the Cavendish Hall ruin sweeps and held in a research facility in New Jersey. Within weeks it grows into a giant fungus. The researchers are killed and the fungus is stolen from the facility.

Spores from Sadu Hem change the people in Crab Point, Michigan into frogs. Starting what is known as the “Plague of Frogs”.

Kate was promoted to Director of Field Operations

Liz returns to the BPRD from the monastery 

Kar Graduates Oxford with a DPhil. Before she can go on a much waited expedition to Egypt, is called back into duty with the BPRD.

The BPRD moves from its Fairfield HQ to an abandoned Military Base in the Colorado Rockies.

2010:

Landis Pope takes over Zinco and becomes the next vessel for the Black Flame.

Roger is killed on a mission by the Black Flame and buried on the alias “Archie Stanton” to keep people from attempting to recover his body.

March: A mysterious message leads Abe and Ben to Indonesia. They discover the rest of the Oannes society living in isolation, with many hybrid animals. Their intention to create a cataclysmic tsunami to drown Southeast Asia and collect the souls into their created vessels is thwarted. 

Panya is recovered from Indonesia after the Garden of Souls incident with Abe.

September: Ben transforms into his werejaguar form after Darryl, a wendigo escapes from his holding cell, and both disappear into the wilderness of the Rockies in a snowstorm.

2011: 

Hellboy kills Nimue and is dragged to Hell.

New York City goes dark as Pope and Zinco take over the city, enslaving or killing the inhabitants. Many survivors live among the ruins.

Frankie and Ava, Kar’s foster parents, are killed for resisting.

The BPRD is led underground to wipe out the rest of the frogs. They are confronted by the King of Fear, one of the slave races of the Followers of the Left Hand. They killed the Hyperboreans and took over the cult, seeking to set their war machines on the world above. They are destroyed by Liz’s fire,  but also cause mass devastation to the world above. 

Liz departs from the BPRD once again due to guilt over the incident.

Carla Giarrocco joins the BPRD

Ashley Strode joins the BPRD

Hell on Earth

2012: Fenix Espejo begins her tenuous on/off alliance with the BPRD

2013:

Abe leaves the BPRD to learn more about his past.

Iosif Nichyako, Director of the Russian Special Sciences Service, proposes an alliance with the BPRD to defeat the Hem threat. 

2014:

Liz and Fenix return to the BPRD from their respective hiatuses.

A Joint BPRD/SSS mission is formed to infiltrate New York and the Black Flame’s Stronghold.

Ashley becomes the BPRD’s official Exorcist after a mission leads her to take the mantle of an old Bureau friend.

2015:

Johann takes possession of the Epimetheus Suit, controlling the vril power as his own. He is now the second most powerful member of the BPRD (Liz being the first at present).

An assault of Zino-Controlled New York is led by Liz, and Johann. Pope is killed by Liz and the remains are destroyed by Johann.

Kar learns of her mothers’ death and grieves in the ruins of New York. She finally manifests as Kar Hem during the assault on Zinco in New York, shifting into the dragon for the first time.

Kate and Panya are killed after the Colorado headquarters is attacked by Odgru Hem and evacuated. Andrew Devon takes Kate’s place as Director of Operations.

Johann sacrifices himself and the Vril Containment Suit to destroy the Ogdru Jahad that has landed on Earth. 

2016-2017: A reluctant Iosif frees Varvara to fight Ogdru Hem. He is killed by Varvara. The Special Sciences Service is now without leadership.

The Devil You Know

2017:

Hellboy returns from Hell.

Abe returns to the BPRD.

Kar becomes Director of Field Operations following the death of Andrew Devon.

The Second Cavendish Hall Incident. 

Varvara is killed by Rasputin.

Kar is “Killed in Action” while sealing up Rasputin and severing his link with the Ogdru Jahad. She wakes up in her mother’s limbo-esque domain, finally ready to accept her mother’s offer. Kar finally becomes the goddess of the crossroads, inheriting Hecate’s powers.

Hellboy "retires" from the BPRD; settling in some small fishing village in Mexico. He still is in contact with Kar and the others, and is known to occasionally come back for consultation.

2018: 

Kar becomes the third BPRD Director following the death of Thomas Manning.

The Fairfield HQ is reopened, and the organization returns to its old home. There is discussion of rebuilding the Colorado Base as well.

[nanakithewarrior]

onewinged-tragedy​:

He had been succeeding in ignoring the beasts like the simple creature he believed him to be, or tried to, but that smooth and sure voice, and the gently spoken yet sharply worded question had him snapping his head in the red ones direction.

“Tch!” was his only answer at first. This creature, he didn’t deserve an answer, not in the least, and he did not intend to give him one. But the question did cause his mind to swim for an answer anyways.

Because, truthfully…he didn’t entirely understand what love felt like. Unless love was…the devotion, the commitment, the sacrifice he gave, all of it, to Mother.

Was that love? If it was….was it not supposed to feel like…more? His gaze narrowed on the red one once more, slit pupils like thing lines between his eyelids.

“And just what do you, a beast within his kin by his side, expect to tell me about love, whether I’ve felt it or not? Forgive me if I can’t imagine you have much to offer.” he scoffed, the harsh response and the cruel laugh to finish hiding his own conflicted head and heart and the state the red creatures question had left him in.

From inside the cage he was held in, Nanaki… or so called “Subject Red XIII” now… observed the boy with a mix of distrust and, to some degree, pity.

He hadn’t been long in here since his capture. A month or so, barely enough to get over the shock of his new surroundings. Enough time to get familiar with the sensation of cold metal floor beneath his feet, the many unfamiliar noises of whirring machines coming from everywhere. The complete absence of nature. It was as though he’d been torn away from the Planet entirely.

In this alienating place, he did what he could to find relief by observing and interacting with what little resembled life in this place. The scientists and guards were met with avoidance and distrust, hostility slowly bubbling inside his heart, possibly enough to overcome his cowardice. It was only to the other ‘subjects’ that he would grant some conversation.. or attempts to do so. Most of them were not so keen on language.

All but this one. The four-legged creature had observed him come and go in the laboratory, seemingly granted a degree of freedom that Nanaki could not. But he was not a real human being, that much he could tell. If the scent wasn’t enough of a clue –. and it was – his reptile-like eyes all but confirmed it.

Their exchanges had been short and often ending as soon as they started, usually with some snappy retort from the two-legged one. He looked a little unstable as far as emotions went. There was something stirring inside him. Something dangerous, that Nanaki didn’t wish to trigger.

But he felt that magnetic attraction that came when crossing gazes with someone of a similar life stage. Turbulent teenagers seemed to have a particularly stronger scent than normal, be it because of all of the hormones– or poor hygiene. He wasn’t one to pry. And so, he still spoke.

The last thing he’d said had perhaps hit a little too close to home for the silver-haired, if his reaction was anything to go by.

“You don’t need to be with kin to be loved.” He corrected him, muzzle resting over crossed paws, a pair of half-lidded ochre eyes looking up at the slim figure past the bars of metal that divided them. “When I was born, I was entirely dependant on my caretaker. Cubs like me are born blind, deaf, and unable to control body temperature. Left on their own, they wouldn’t even know when to eat, or release, or sleep. I would have died, were it not for someone who looked after me for weeks and weeks until my eyes finally opened. That is love. Unconditional care, without anything to gain in return. Even at your own expense and risk, at times.”

[vacantgodling]

The Veneration of the THREE DIVINES

(the main religious sect in paramour)

will start this off by saying: a lot of this does take inspiration from catholicism, however in a quite mild sense. there’s a similar sense of corruption among the actual ruling religious body; however in this post i’m talking about the actual belief system itself and not its myriad of problems LMAO. that’s another post.

so… THE THREE DIVINES— what are they? well, they are divine hosts of awesome power, intelligence, but importantly compassion, who took pity on humanity and it’s plight as children of evil.

THE SHEPHERD (or “the father” by traditionalists)

the shepherd who led humanity out of the vat of darkness

heavenly hosts or divines formed to have jurisdictions over the universe, and the shepherd was given top dominion over the earth. out of the primordial darkness, they tended flowers to bloom, and oceans to wave, and life to flourish and thrive. but at the epicenter of this beautiful planet was what could only be described as a vat of darkness. this vat oozed evil— such that the shepherd had never seen before. and from that vat, two legged creatures that so resembled the heavenly hosts crawled, to take ownership of the land from the shepherd. other hosts were horrified at this terrifying discovery, but the shepherd was not. they watched as these beings, these humans stumbled, and fell. how they were clumsy and did not even know how to wash or feed or clothe themselves. the shepherd saw them as children. and so, the shepherd said, “i shall teach them.” this is how the first followers of the shepherd came to pass and they began to act correctly and grow from the wickedness in their hearts. however, that propensity for evil would never fully go away, and though it troubled the shepherd, they resigned themself to helping them be better so that they could live proper lives.

this changed when the first humans began to die. instead of being released from their wickedness entirely, the humans’s souls returned to the vat of darkness to eventually be reborn with heightened and intensified wickedness. this distressed the shepherd, so they made a plan of salvation for humans.

THE SAVIOR (or “the son” by traditionalists)

the savior who protects humans from falling back into the vat of darkness

in order to protect their beloved humans from their terrible fate, the shepherd became pregnant with light, and eventually gave birth to a child: the savior. their sole purpose is to hold fast the gates of the vat of darkness. this allows humans, once they die, to be able to return to the cradle and light of the shepherd instead of being trapped in the vat for all eternity to be continually reborn into wickedness. the savior breaks the cycle basically.

however, the savior’s power after millennia, is waning. soon, the savior will pass away and the vat, after being held closed for so long, will be open and the contents of the vat will overflow and pollute the earth. all who are still alive will be killed by the poisonous evil of the vat, and that day “could be any day.”

when the savior eventually dies, it will be up to the judge to take those left who are worthy to be reunited with the shepherd.

THE JUDGE

the righteous protector, who condemns those who should be damned.

seeing how the shepherd was adamant on taking as many of their children as possible away from the world before they suffer in the vat, the judge’s role is to ensure that those who gain access to the shepherd are those pure of heart and good of intention. when every spirit dies, the judge looks into their heart and spirit. if the judge forgives them for the evils in life they have committed — as all humans, as in their nature, are prone to evil acts — then they will be permitted to join the shepherd, because the sum of their goodness outweighs their inherent evil. if you are not forgiven, your soul is set to wander the lands, as what humans conceive of as a ghost.

you can gain forgiveness in the afterlife before the vat is opened if your heart begins to change as you wander the earth, enough so the judge may forgive you. however, many who die without forgiveness never shall be, and shall be swallowed by the vat once it opens once more.

so that’s the BASIC GIST. at some point i’ll probably have to get a handle on what’s going on to a certain extent when it comes to the bullshit of priests and stuff & i’ll make a post about major holidays when i figure the rest out!

[giftedfangs]

" Oh I simply wished to ensure that you know I've done well by our little deal. I've left your Missi unharmed by any intentional act. In all fairness the angel, if you can call it that, was disguised as an imp. She had little to no time to truly flee and I am still trapped within this little scepter. Hardly anything I could truly do but watch. " There was a bit of pity in his voice looking down at Dante as he started to fall apart.

Gross.

Even more so when he starts to outright sob in front of him. While the grief demon had no real intent to be harmful he certainly did not enjoy consoling people who were like this. A reason he never truly got along with Depression then again, she also would put out so many of his fires which only upset him further. Not to mention the whole flooding the world thing.

Which was interesting. Indeed the demon knew of Adam, though he had not physically formed at the time the seed for his birth had been planted as man first walked across the Earth. Before the fall of man and originating with the divine beings themselves. When magic was much more wild, free, and ran from the God who would visit the mortal realm so often.

" Adam. . . . yes. I do remember that name, if vaguely. Humans always name themselves so--- similarly it's hard to keep track which is which. "

He was a jealous and vengeful god after all, for some time at the very least. And that is what Des would manifest from. Slowly over the course of centuries before gaining an air of sentience all stemming from that first fight. The first battle. Lucifer's Fall. The creation of the Prince of Wrath, and the anger that stemmed from all the fallen angels and even God himself was enough to lay the foundations for each grief demon to manifest.

It would take time to truly form. An unintentional creation does not simply pop into existence and sentience in the course of a day when their birth was never even meant to happen. But he has vague memories of it all, flashes of time periods of when that anger would feed him, incubate the body that he would create when born in a flash of lightning and burning forth from the fire that would follow.

It's why they were never truly children, never grew up as normal entities. Born from the power and magic dripping from the celestial entities that created the universe they would step outside even their control. Incubated for centuries upon centuries they grew to be adults when taking full form. Unkillable creatures that persisted on the emotions that first gave them the spark of life. Des was by far not the oldest of them all, hardly did they manifest in the same order grief tends to; but he does know that Depression's entrance was certainly something. By the time she was 'born' this God had known of their existence but cared little for the pain they caused and refused to acknowledge them. Branding them as true demons and claiming them as something made from Lucifer's doing. . . which wasn't entirely wrong but it was both of their grief, all of the unholy and holy angels and demons grief that gave them their start. Even so, God would take Depression's entrance and use it to his own will. Flooding the entire Earth in one of by far the most bloody killing nearly all of the population upon the planet it would take time for them to wrangle her and shrink the oceans down; but it would forever be mostly water never truly recovering from the scar she left upon the planet.

Always amusing to see how humans and even religions excuse their entrances within the world, so many humans had created flooding the Earth stories all stemming from a grief demon's true physical birth to the planet. More so than not it would cause some destructive or impactful event that not even others could truly control. Only warn about and then take credit for later.

It wasn't until their physical births upon the planet and sentience did they start to truly cause harm. Corrupting the human populous from their actions, sometimes intentionally sometimes unintentionally, birthed forth the first species diverting from humans. Something that Des had noticed well, how moldable that humans were, perhaps intentional for how God wished to mold them into the perfect little toy but it only left open something the grief demons to corrupt. Vampires especially were his favorite, for some time at least until he was given recourse for what he had done.

Though an outside perspective may differ. He cared little for how the manipulation of their bodies hurt, he cared little for the humans he first turned and their autonomy. Being punished was humiliating and turned his hatred towards the very things he created. Yet his lover would always find the vampires endearing. A creation that his beloved had made on his own and he couldn't help but admire how creative they were. Gifted immortality, no other species had that and Eton would see it as something to be grateful for. Just as he had created the witches to harness what magic existed upon the planet. Blessing them with the innate ability to use it, harvest it, and create something new. Though it still violated their autonomy, destroying the lives they once lived, and turned them irreversibly to something entirely new he was subjected to the same fate.

Only he had to watch as humans turned upon witches. Hunting them down in trials over and over and over again. What once was a blessing now turned cursed as humans brought them nearly to entire extinction.

Their births much like their lives were complicated. Beings that have technically existed since the very beginning but only able to take physical form after much longer than that Des had seen his fair share of human history though keeping it together was always a pain.

For the moment he simply watches Des break down not entirely sure what to do considering he didn't particularly care about Des and the idea he would comfort him. Disgusting. The only man he would comfort is his lover. Everyone else can simply burn even if they worked out a deal for him to be nicer it didn't mean dealing with--- this.

" Is there anything else I can be of use to? Your--- current state, has me taking some pity upon you. If you have a question I will graciously answer it if it will stop this sobbing noise. You sound far too of Depression. "

"I'm sorry I assumed you might have been involved." Voice more quiet and passive then usual. But meaning it sincerely. It's hard to switch their brain from seeing Des as an enemy to some kind of reluctant ally. "I haven't.... been in my right mind since I realized she was missing when she failed to come home or message me." As if that wasn't obvious. He hadn't been great before that either. He almost tells Des that he'd thought for a moment that Missi had left him but keeps that to himself. Mindful of revealing things that Des could hold and use against him even then.

Despite how tired and burned out he is he does listen and show that they're paying attention to the other's words. Managing to give Des the bit of respect that he can manage at the moment. The panic attacks he'd suffered and further bouts of self harm in the time it took to find her only making him more exhausted. On top of just the purely physical aspect of it from weeks of no sleep thanks to insomnia in full bloom. His mind and heart are all just worn down from the constant stress and mood swings and all of him is in need of rest. Though it's not likely to come to them any time soon.

Especially not as scarlet eyes widen in uncertainty, surprise and genuine fear at the mention of the angel. They'd heard of Adam. Hard not too with how much of a goddamn genocidal showpony he was. He was the only angel that Dante had heard described as having a yellow face. All the others he'd heard about or seen footage of had white. Though admittedly his knowledge on hell's situation and on heaven is quite lacking.

"I've heard of him. Especially having involved myself more in hell and it's hierarchy, I've done a bit of homework. That sounds like Adam. Supposedly the first human and first man in Abrahamic beliefs and the second sinner after Eve." A good question is how did the artifacts fit into those legends? If they were true, then did Anger come to existence when Cain killed Able? Good he fucking hates religion. "Now the leader of heaven's armies. From what I gather he's in charge of the yearly purge that take place in pride to quell the human population and probably punish them more. How the fuck he went from committing the original sin of humanity to that I have no fucking idea." Snarling furiously by the end of his speech.

Given the monsters' underworld was separate they didn't have to worry about the slaughter happening in the pride ring of hell.

In fact. Dante kind of assumed that they were somewhat safe from heaven's ire. Monsters didn't have an overpopulation problem. Arguably their low numbers and extinctions contributed to humanity overrunning both earth and hell. Having upset the balance of the ecosystem and not having their natural predators anymore to keep their numbers in check. Though that's just one resentful vampire's theory.

Paimon had mentioned something involving angels and their land of the dead. Of Adam speaking to Artemis. Dante had brushed it off, surely Artemis would have told him. Right? Was this all Dante's fault? Was Missi like this because Adam was targeting the people close to the overlord or seeking for some kind of exploit to reach their realm? Or was this his fault because he didn't notice the state she was in and had failed to protect her like he'd promised? It has to be her fault either way. Having taken place after their most recent fight, no matter how petty or small it was, the wayward ruler has to be blamed at least for part of it.

Tears falling once more from his eyes. Wasted blood. Mixing with the mascara already staining the royal's pale and gaunt cheeks. As his mind screams at him in hatred and his chest aches with guilt.

What right did heaven have to interfere? What the fuck could they possibly want?

Monsters weren't even held to the same standards as human souls in the first place. It wasn't a matter of being a good or devote person as fucking vague as those statements already were. They didn't get heaven and hell in the traditional sense. They had a single afterlife where all were equally sent to spend their deaths seemingly forever. He was told that after an eternity in the land of the dead that some souls seemed to fade or disappear. Some believing it to be reincarnation or one's being returned to the universe while others thought it was just true nonexistence and the acceptance of one's oblivion or lost hope perhaps. Monster faith and beliefs are also varied, and they don't have the answers to existence either. And more importantly they have their own gods and don't need mankind's interfering. Dante is perhaps looking at his species' own deity right now. Though Des is called a 'demon' in the languages Dante understands, his ties to vampire's couldn't be ignored. Not that the manifestation of anger seemed all too keen on their kind either given all that had been done to him.

There's no overpopulation for Adam to fix in the underworld. He'd be slaughtering just as many innocents as the guilty if he were to execute their people on mass. Unlike the pride ring, children are a lot more common in their domain and that's not by accident. Monsters that were born into it especially didn't get the chance to choose and seemed to be 'condemned' all the same. Maybe that was all the justification a righteous bastard like Adam needed. Reminds the royal of her father.

Hadn't monsters and beasts suffered enough on earth? Could they not find peace and comfort in death? It was bad enough that they had their own struggles and issues to contend with already. Not very long ago they'd been suffering under the iron fist of a tyrant. Finally they were free to decide how to govern themselves and to someday make their own version of a paradise free from the cruelty of mankind or their genocide on earth. Only for heaven to threaten all of that.

The tears don't stop. Dante can't fight to protect Missi or his people from the angelic commander let alone his divine army. The vampire is naturally weak to holy magic and blessed items. Adam could probably piss holy water and was said to battle Lucifer. There was no hope. There was no coming out of that.

Missi could have been killed and taken. What happens if she falls to Adam's weapon? He kills and destroys immortal sinners for sport. Would she just cease to exist?! Would she die but end up in purgatory or limbo since the nature of her soul either human or vampire wasn't entirely certain? Is that what this? Purgatory? A coma? The thought that she might have been afraid and helpless as she was cornered, that she might have called out for him and he was too far away to hear. It's everything they ever feared. Openly sobbing as they buries their face in their arms against the lip of her coffin. He thought he was scared of it happening with his father but this is so much worse. His father was ultimately just a man. He could be fought and killed or outsmarted and outplayed. Dante had a chance to kill and beat him.

Adam is something different entirely and there's seemingly not even any safety to be found in the underworld if he's trying to get in or outright terrorizing monsters whenever they visit hell. So would an alternative just be to never see Ozzie or their friends again? To be trapped in their realm and afraid to step out? Under some sort of strange house arrest. Less of a paradise then and just another prison.

Dante just feels helpless and weak and incapable.

He feels so human. Striped of his power and any authority he might have pretended to wield. It all finally gets to him and he just crumbles entirely. Terrified now that she might really not wake up. Having no idea what to do or how to make it better.

Perhaps Paimon was right.

And perhaps now it was already too late.

[starshipsofstarlord]

God is With You, Even as You’re Sinning

Pairing | Sam Winchester x reader

Summary | it was your first time not killing a monster, and in its place, taking the life of one of your own. Guilt entraps you, and it is up to Sam to break you out of your pitiful hypnosis.

Warnings | mentions of death, blood, angst, guilt, some smut, oral sex (fem receiving), penetrative unprotected sex, fingering, swearing, mentions of murder

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Fuck God. This was all his fault, everything was to be fair. He had left the world to continue on its own accord, the apocalypse threatening to spill over the planet and destroy it and all beauty that was lingering through the existence of humans.

They killed each other, and the creator of all could care less. It was his smallest problem, he didn’t mind that the murderer was succumbed to guilt, or how many restless nights that he or she endured. God was cruel, even if he held up a facade of being your ally, and trying his hardest as he supposed, to be your friend.

Your hands shook as you remembered the entailment of your mistake. It was a slip up, a vast and surreal experience that people usually learned from. But what were you supposed to do, not kill a human again? Yeah you had gotten that, after all, the initial deed had not at all been intentional.

There was the victim’s blood dried upon the outer layer of your skin, casting you in the perfect image of murderous intent. However, you had no thirst to kill, instead, your hunting of monsters, alike to many others partaking in a similar lifestyle, executed the mythical beasts to protect the human population.

It pained you truly, to know that you had killed a person. You hadn’t even spared the familiar body a second glance, and out of panic, you fled the scene, leaving the body of the city cleaner in the gutter, laying in the remnants of his friends’ and family’s waste, burying him in their crude excrement.

The thought alone, and the sight that was engrained in the peripheral of your mind had you feeling sick. Slowly, you plodded down the steps of the bunker’s entrance, surely leaving footprints trademarked in all kinds of grotesque evidence.

Without much care for what lay heavily inside, you dropped your duffel from your shoulder, allowing it to fall on the ground with a disgruntled clatter. Nothing meant anything anymore, not if you were indeed a real killer. Whilst some monsters had weaselled their way into society, ending their pathetic attempts at normality was different than taking away the life of an innocent and mortal bystander.

Often, with the darker and crueler species, there were reasons as to why they pretended to be of human birth. Mostly, it was so that they could feed from the naive flock, or kill for their own amusement. Either way, none of their reasons were good.

But now, you thought of yourself as no different than them. A creature that needed to be put down for their crimes. Filing, you breathed in, only inhaling the various moulds of putridity that was weaved into your hair, and stuck to your skin like a face mask.

“Should I call you Cassie now?” At the joke, a laugh from the speaker was triggered. He was quite amused with the sight of you, and thus, you sneered at the tall man, hating him a little bit more than usual.

“Your pop culture references aren’t appreciated Winchester, it’s more Dean’s street.” Shoving past him, his high shoulder floundered back at the harsh and ignorant impact, an expression of offence covering his stupid face. Like a fawn, he tumbled after you, watching as you walked sullenly into the kitchen, yanking the door to the fridge open, and extracting one of his brother’s store bought beers.

“I’m going to guess the hunt went bad.” Sam speculated, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, and staring expectedly down at where you popped the cap off the bottle recklessly with your teeth. He almost winced at the sight, but he wished to keep this arrogant demeanour up with you, it was a natural desire to piss you off, and he’d be pissed at himself if he let it slip out of simple pity.

“Guess correct. Well done, you’ve won a trip to Hawaii.” You waved your free hand mockingly in the air, as the other raised the liquor to your mouth, allowing you to wilfully gulp the bitter liquid down. At his presence that remained nursing over you, you cocked a brow, leaning forwards as you expectedly looked back at the moose. “Just leave me alone Sam, I’m not in the mood for putting up with your bullshit.”

He, however, seemed not to be phased by you wanting to be left alone, and instead, quickly snatched the poison out of your hand, leaving you throughly prepared to keep him right in the balls. “What the fuck?” You all but screamed at the not so jolly giant. In turn, he crossed his arms across his chest, placing the bottle down on the island.

“I could ask you the same y/n.” His tone was dominantly serious, causing you to cower back into your shroud of guilty conscience. “Tell me what happened on that hunt, of which i told you that you shouldn’t have went on alone, since you wouldn’t have been able to handle it solo.”

You felt demeaned by his words, they sparked an anger out from the firm pit of your stomach. But you knew deep down, he was getting through to you, which was something that you had not managed to even do by yourself. Air heavily passed through and out of your nostrils, as acidic tears pooled in your eyes; a crack was falling down your walls, and out of all people, it was Sam Winchester whom had caused it.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have gone alone, but you know what, I thought of what a Winchester would do. And then I remembered, I am sure as hell not a Winchester and I don’t have a brother anymore! Not now, he didn’t even know who I was earlier, didn’t even recognise a single genetically identical hair on my head as he watched me parade through the town, the very one that I ran away from when he was a baby and I was seven, wanting to hunt a monster. Yet, i didn’t kill a damn monster Sam, I murdered my brother because you’ve been right all along, I’m not fit for this job. I am a mess, so congratulations, you finally have got me to admit the one thing that you keep reminding me of.”

“Y/n...” Sam wasn’t sure how to respond, he felt the waves of shock ripple through his body. Never so freely had you been vulnerable around him, and here you were now, with very visible tears cascading down your utterly torn face. He understood it was an accident, and the times that he and Dean had tried to kill each other under supernatural circumstances had him wondering what if.

Shaking your grime tethered head at the sound of his cracked voice, you stormed past him, and immediately raced towards the shower room, finding to your luck, which had been non existent during the rest of the day, the halls were barren of life. Walking through the door, you tore your ruined clothes off, chucking them upon the floor without much acknowledgement, before you went under the warm spray of the shower head, trying to calm yourself.

To rid your skin of its evidential accessories, you had to scrub your skin until it was immediately raw. Everything within you ached, as you flicked back to the memory of the clueless expression that had been worn by your blood brother. It was probably a good thing that he didn’t know who you were, or else, he’d have known that his own sister murdered him due to her incompetence to listen to others.

Now, you were not even sure what were your tears, and what droplets of water belonged to the shower itself. For over an hour, you basked int eh warmth that seemed unable to cure your cold blooded system, turning the spritz off, and covering your body in a fluffy towel, that you were sure belonged to someone else, but right now, you could care less about who owned what.

As you reached the door to your bedroom, you found it to be preached slightly open, and as you pushed it the rest of the way, you saw Sam sat on the corner of your bed. You held your arms around yourself, insecure on the fact that beneath the stolen towel, you were nothing more than you. A wolf in sheep’s skin.

“Can I help you?” You bitterly asked, your eyes still burning from your own faulted loss. Sam breathed in, his eyes trailing up to your face, that was naked from any gruesome cosmetics or make up. The bareness to your completion illustrated an aura of innocence, and evidence that you were the same as him - human.

“That’s my towel.” The male hunter laughed, in hopes of changing the previous and well wounded subjected to ensure that you felt better. But what was he kidding, nothing could fill the void that you had dug in your own heart, nothing was closer than the bond between siblings, even if you were considered as strangers.

“Take it back then.” Too exhausted from your gruelling day, you dropped the material, your confident action making his eyes go wide, as he tried to look away from your exposed skin to respect your boundaries. It was impossible though not to allow his hazel hues to slip up the trunks of your thighs, up to- no, that was wrong, very wrong.

You had just lost your brother, not to mention, by your own hand, and he was prone to checking out your freelancing body, taking in every curve and twisted scar that was prominent to his speculating eyes. His eyes dropped to the discarded towel, which he had purposely left on the heating rail for later use, and then, they switched back towards you.

He stood, walking behind you as you looked through comfort clothes within your dresser. A light touch of his hand brushed your hair away from your neck, as he breathed a sweet hoax of hot air upon your scare. Sam was relieved that you didn’t reject the contact, and instead, pressed his lips upon the flesh, finding succession whence you hummed deliriously to yourself.

This interaction had been inevitable for a long time, but now no longer were the suspected intentions for such an exchange to be to release well endorsed frustrations. No, he was going to clear your mind for some sensual moments, and make your pretty little head forget for a moment that you had pained yourself in the worst of ways.

Turning, you laced your hands through his chocolate locks, massaging his scalp as you pulled him closer so that your lips could endure a rougher clasp against his. There was no passion, behind each contribution there was a spur of hunger, he grasped your ass cheeks, pulling you up to be sat upon the top of your heavy dresser.

Obliging his command, you spread your legs so that he could stand between their partition, his hands now running up the windows of your thighs. For a while, the pair of you did nothing more than make out, and cup a feel here and there, but soon after, Sam dropped to his lanky knees, leaving kisses in the wake of his descent.

His thumb and forefinger spread your fluttering folds, watching as your slit squirmed for attention. Sam licked his lips at the sight, running his middle finger up the expanse, until he came to your yearning entrance. Slowly, after making sure you were wet enough, Sam slipped his digit inside, you wiggling your hips to adjust to the thrust of his one finger.

To add to the sensations that were overriding your body, he moved his mouth to closer proximity, smelling the divine aroma that pulsed out of you. It was far too addictive to not get a taste, and thus,he pulled his finger out, sucking off your juices contently.

But that small sample just wasn’t enough, which encouraged him to dive face first into your pussy - literally. His long tongue teased your folds, slurping at the lips, and then switching to your clit to heighten the stimulation. He kept up a rhythm, using it as a pattern to push you closer to that edge, and he was surely certain that you were enjoying his oral work as you ground your face against him, moaning at his succulent administrations.

“Sam.” Oh god, was it pleasant to hear his own name fall out your mouth in such an erotic manner. It was far different from the way that you usually used it to snide at him, though, the thought of your regular treatment of him aided only to spur his lustful actions on. He wanted you to cum, for your juices to run down his face in waterfalls, looking as though someone had tried to drown him.

His work would not be complete until you found it difficult to even pronounce his short name. Digging his tongue in the hood of your clit, tracing around the protective area, his fingers returned to their earlier placement, and he quickened their pace until he could hear a satisfying squelch in the air.

Rapid sounds of parted moans raked from your mouth, your chest sticking out as you breasts heaved with your heavy breathing. It was noticeable that you were close, not just from that, but you were squeezing the circulation out of his fingers. “Fuck.” Left you in the form of a squeal, as you pussy wept its juices.

Sam was quick to lap everything that left you up, once more, tasting those that clung to his fingers. He went back in for another taste, but you tightly grouped his hair, pulling him away from your sopping cunt. “Need you to fuck me Sam, now.”

In an instant, the hunter stood, working precariously on undoing the buckle of his belt, and pushing all material that covered his lower half to the bottom of his thighs. He read already hard, and oozing precum. You swept your finger across the tip of his dick, bringing it to your lips to taste his foreshadowing seed.

Sam huffed at the sight,picking his prick up in one hand, and jerking himself a couple of times. And then, he aligned himself with you, rubbing his cock around your wet crevice a couple of times, slapping his tip teasingly against your puffy clit.

“Want my cock baby?” He asked, smirking as he watched you nod your head repeatedly. With that being all the confirmation that he needed, he pushed into you,feeling even more turned on as he heard you mewl, and watched the ecstatic expression cross your face as his dick fit inside of you all the way.

He grasped your hips, pulling out once before pushing in again. He repeated the action, his own eyes rolling to the back of his head at how tight you were. This would make you forget the cruel method of god, his story was not as epic as he though, for his characters were screwing against his will, basking in a distraction rather than the regretful pain that seethed in your trodden heart.

Another thrust had your nails clasping onto Sam’s covered back, biting onto his shoulder through the plaid, as you held back the tears that were trying to creep out of your blissful eyes. A few grunts left Sam, as his pace increased, and with every thrust, which only served to fuel him further, the dresser smashed into the wall behind it, most likely leaving a decent dent within the historical architecture.

“Gonna cum.” You told him, dragging him in for another tongue filled kiss as your cunt pooled around him, coating his cock in the honey from your delicious pot. He soon followed after, and for a moment, he remained against you, allowing you to bask in the comfort of his strange presence.

And then he pulled out, watching as his distraction dripped from your entrance, trailing down your thigh in a white streak. An orgasm smile was pulled onto your face, but it was certain to not last long for when you returned to the reality that laid waiting for you to return.

Sam stepped closer again, moving his fingers towards your cunt, and pushed his seed back inside of you, watching as your puffy pussy lips swallows any part of him that it could get. He would distract you for as long as he could, and then, deal with the inevitable.

[sillysorcerer]

A small flame dances in front of the three guards, the light dancing across their faces.

"It, it's a phantom. it has to be!"

A young, frail knight shakes in his armor. It is ill-fitting, and the three are clearly poorly funded.

"Shut up! it's the witch's trick. It has to be. She's around here somewhere," the large guard corrects his companion. He has a flat, bold face.

"What if it's a fae? or- or a sprite," the first guard asks. The larger guard inches closer to the flame, studying it. The heat is all too real on his face, and it still dances on the wind, hovering in front of him, taunting him. He is about to grab it when the small guard causes him to jump.

"It's a fairy! We're all going to be cursed just looking at it!"

"It's not! Shut up," he snaps back.

"What is it then," the third guard asks. "He might have a point. Fire doesn't just fly."

"F-fine. You have a point." The bulky guard backs away. "Let's just go. She can't have gone far." The three guards cower away, down the road.

The mage known as Rose Lalonde fades slowly back into view, casting off her invisibility now that her pusuers were gone. Fire plays around her fingertips.

Rose leans against the tree on her back. She sits on a waist-high stone wall, built to protect travelers along the road. It stretches further than anyone can see. Long ago it was clean and white, but now it is dusty and grey with time, even as the bright sun shines on it.

Rose extinguishes the flame with a snap of her fingers and heaves a long sigh. Her pointy hat flops slightly, matching her bored sideways glance. She only looks up after noticing the fanged face staring at her, hanging upsidedown from the tree. Whoever it is decended unnaturally quietly, but Rose refuses to give up any emotion.

"You don't seem very worried about the guards," the stranger smirks, grinning ear to ear. Her long black hair floats down a foot or so, a stark contrast to Rose's pale blonde hair. The woman's fangs poke ominously from her mouth.

"Please, these guards couldn't catch their own shadow," Rose responds. She meets the creatures eyes, and stares into a deep green abyss, darker than night.

"You don't seem very scared, human."

"That's probably because I'm not very scared," she replies, leaning back.

"You don't know who I am?"

"You mean you aren't a very strange dryad?"

The stranger is stuck for a moment, without an answer. Her guest laughs, and disolves into thick, black smoke, making the shade as dark as a moonless night. The blackness congeals into a very tall woman, her head resting just below the taller branches. She wears old, distinguished clothing, fitting some sort of noble. A large corset hugs her frame, and the dress under it is tight and ornate.

"Is this more satisfactory for you, before I drink you dry," The vampire asks.

"Much," is the only word Rose Lalonde offers. She still hasn't budged, and at this point, the vampire's curiosity is piqued.

"You are a wanted criminal are you," she asks, "Hiding from the silly guards?"

"It depends on who you ask. Everybody seems interested in the Lady Grimme," she gestures to herself with a flourish of her wrist.

"You must be pursued as well. You didn't show yourself until they left." Rose leaves the vampire with another charming smirk.

"Astute, little wizard-" Rose cuts her off with a sharp

"I am *not* a wizard." The vampire takes a step back, surprised by the sudden expression shown by the mage.

"Struck a nerve, have I, wizard?" She leans in close to rub it in.

"What makes you so different?"

"Everything. They dress like gaudy tyrants from a planet of harlequins, throwing their filthy beards around like unshowered would-be gods. They think magic can be tamed, controlled, and auctioned off. They have no respect for the danger sorcery can create. They believe the world is there to serve nothing other than their inflated intellects. They are fools pretending to be powerful."

"A deep nerve it seems," the vampire laughs. "I'll certainly enjoy draining it," she toys.

"That still doesn't explain why you are wanted."

"The wizards got what they deserved," Rose responds, ignoring the tall brooding woman's teases.

"Don't be so reticent, dear Lady Grimme." The fanged creature sits on the air, seemingly oblivious of gravity.

"Please do tell. Give me a taste of your life." Rose is silent, still smirking at the vampire. The tiny mage thinks she is the one in control here. The vampire is only playing with her, for now. Would they fight, Rose would be hopelessly outmatched by the tall, thin, creature of the night.

"You expect a lot from me when you haven't even told me your name."

"Ah, but names have power, don't you know, Rose Lalonde?" Rose doesn't move.

"Where did you get that name?" Rose feigns concern. She sits perfectly still, watching her fanged guest.

"We both have our secrets."

"But only one of us are any good at hiding them," Rose retorts. Behind her smirk is the ever so subtle presence of superiority.

"Hahahaha!," The black haired vampire has never seen such a bold face presented to her. She can't decide if she hates it, or enjoys it.

"You're a bold one, mage. No one has had such nerve to play games with me." The vampire licks her fangs, staring at this tiny mortal before her feast.

"Unlike the wizards, I can back up my prowess."

"Watch your choice of words, mortal. You can't move from my charm," she teases.

"And you have no way of hurting me even if you wanted to." The black-veiled vampire stands up to loom over Rose, growing closer as they continue their discourse. Rose is quite aware.

"Are you willing to bet on that?" The vampire freezes. Why is this puny mage so confident? She's fallen for every trap laid before her. Why does she still seem so smug? Suddenly, the tall vampire isn't so sure. She smiles, settling on a test for the human.

"Those charmed by my presence are only able to lie." She grins, waiting to see Rose's response.

"Clever. Either I play along, or reveal I am unaffected. And I assume you'll kill me if I don't, so I may as well." The little witch catches on fast, the vampire thinks. At least her meal is a smart one.

"Your death will be more fun this way, you'll see. So, let's begin. What are you really wanted for?"

"Wanton destruction of the kingdom, study of the dark arts, kidnapping, brainwashing, attempted treason, murder, arson, and tax evasion," Rose lists mindlessly off the top of her head as her eyes roll. She doesn't even try to hide her sarcasm. She's issuing a bet, a verbal puzzle, and it hasn't gone unnoticed.

"What of that was the truth," her fanged company frowns. No human could do so much.

"All of it." Rose gives that infuriating smirk again. It is a lie, but not one she can learn anything from. The vampire growls. Moments ago this wizard seemed worried about pitiful humans in thin metal plates, playing guard. Why now does she act so defiant?

"Would you call yourself powerful?"

"Only sometimes," Rose responds. It's impossible to garner the truth from her claims. Rose knows this. It's clear from her piercing, amethyst eyes, and that damned smug smile.

"Are you having fun with this," the vampire asks.

"I've never had this much fun." She responds, leaving loopholes like a genie.

"Will you tell me anything?"

"I'll tell you anything you ask," Rose teases.

"Where are you from?"

"Nowhere in particular." Rose seems to be enjoying this far too much.

"Why aren't you worried?!"

"My mother told me to be a brave girl." The vampire laughs for only a second. It fuels back into her growing anger.

"Why did you act like you could beat me?"

"I was stupid." The vampire scowls, how DARE she LIE about that. She IS a fool for challenging me, the creature thinks.

"Lie or not, I'm getting hungry. Do you have any last words?"

"I do not."

"So bold. What will save you when I bleed you dry?"

"Vodka will save me." Rose has to try not to laugh at her own joke.

"Do you fear me?!?"

"Actually, I enjoy this talk." The vampire raises a claw, only a foot from Rose's face. Then she stops.

This smile is different. There is sincerity in Rose's face. Then she stands and bows... The vampire shifts, standing straight. In an instant, the tension fades, bewilderment taking it's place.

"How did you escape my charm? How are you not enthralled, frozen?" The vampire stoops slightly, studying the human so below her.

"Imagine your surprise when you find out." The tallest female looks irritated again.

"Do you ever tire of speaking in riddles?" The vampire is getting tired of waiting. As if Rose can sense her impatience, she responds.

"Fine. ask me anything. I will give you an honest answer." The vampire studies her, thinking hard. This question will end her little game.

"Why are you still here?"

"I wanted to see you in person." The vampire is frozen. No one, not a single human in ten centuries has ever been this bold in front of such an ancient and powerful being. who *is* she? The creature's thoughts are interrupted by a sudden gust of wind. A massive, four-eyed black dragon lands beside the tree. Rose climbs atop it's back.

"Come Mutini, I think our guest has had enough for today." How dare she! The vampire lunges, but it is too late. The massive dragon has taken off.

The vampire stands, still reeling from the interaction she's just had with this so called Lady Grimme. She was confused at the conflicting information, but more infuriated that her meal was interrupted. Good food doesn't run away. She will find Rose again, and when she does-

the vampire's thoughts are interrupted. She kneels, and picks up a book the witch must have dropped. What a fool.

It takes the vampire a minute to process what she sees. It is the Grimoire of the Zoologically Dubious, written by Abdul Alhazred. The dark arts- was this witch serious when she said she studied the dark arts? There is a bookmark inside, and the vampire opens the book to the marked page. Inside is an illustration of her own face. Kanaya Maryam, the Rainbow Drinker. Listed is her age, powers, and very nature, indiscernable to all but the most foolish humans who dare translate it's ancient text. Below it all, is the mage's signature, "RL".

The vampire realises Rose left this behind on purpose. She had everything planned the second they met, she may even have planned their meeting. She was prepared for every charm, every game, and for her eventual escape. Every answer was planned, every statement calculated, and every move was thought ahead of time. And the vampire fell for it.

She looks up at the fleeting shadow in the air. Never in her entire unnatual life had she met someone quite like Rose Lalonde. But now, she was thirsty for more.

@rosemarymonth2021 Here is my story for the Fantasy prompt

[possibleplatypus]

I am here to return the favor! So, tell us about the fic you're currently most excited about, please 😊

I have so many WIPs it's kind of embarrassing, but I am currently most excited about this jealous!Steve fic where Namor and Bucky are dating because no one volunteered to write it for me lmao! preview under the cut

Rolling his eyes, Steve took a deep breath, prayed that Namor would be wearing more than his usual favored outfit of scaly, sea-green speedos, and opened the door. 

Now Steve didn’t consider himself a prude, and intellectually he understood that Atlanteans had different norms, and he honestly welcomed cultural differences, but come on. Namor was, as always, nearly naked, but he was thankfully dressed more modestly this time. The Sub-Mariner was wearing another one of those tight-fitting Atlantean pants (or were they leggings?) that left next to nothing to the imagination, with black, ridged greaves that admittedly looked pretty cool, to Steve’s immense irritation. He was barefoot, of course. A long necklace of shark teeth and the teeth of other sea creatures (Steve assumed) draped over his bare, muscular torso. His black hair looked like the kind of messy people were paying hundreds of dollars for these days. 

Steve had to admit that, objectively, Namor was easy on the eyes. That all went away when he opened his mouth, though.

“Namor is here for James,” the king of Atlantis said, sparing Steve one flick of his eyes from under his very impressive eyebrows before swanning into the room. Almost literally, because he glided on the air with an inhuman grace due to those stupid wings on his ankles. The briny smell of the sea trailed after him; Steve took a deep breath through his mouth.

“Come in, Namor, make yourself at home, Namor,” Steve mumbled.

“Your hospitality is appreciated, Captain,” Namor said, deigning to sit on Steve’s recently-occupied seat in a position Natasha had previously described as "man-spreading." This stretched out his Atlantean pants/leggings so much that imagination was no longer needed in regards to their contents. Steve moved to the seat opposite, before realizing that this meant he would be sitting facing the king. 

Steve’s fingers itched to retrieve his abandoned New York Times. He was almost done with the crossword! But Bucky had told him to play nice. And since he had already sat down, he would need to get up again to retrieve the newspaper from Namor’s armrest-- which should have been Steve’s armrest if only Namor didn’t act like he owned the surface of the entire planet and not just the oceans.

After about 15 agonizing seconds of the two of them sitting in silence and not looking at each other, Steve said, “So, do you… want something to drink?” He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but it was too late to take them back.

The look that Namor gave him was more cutting than one of Bucky’s knives, which was impressive. “You offer Namor, the King of Atlantis, a beverage? Made of your tainted water?”

“It’s not tainted,” Steve said, not bothering to hide his irritability now. “New York City tap water is perfectly safe to drink.”

Namor snorted. “It is a pity that surface dwellers fear their drinking water so much that they have to describe it in terms of safety,” he said. "The land, sea, and air-- everything humans touch is inevitably poisoned."

“If you don’t want anything to drink you can just decline,” Steve said, though secretly he did agree with Namor, and that made him even angrier.

“Then I respectfully decline, Captain,” Namor said. His tone was perfectly even, but Steve could hear the disrespect.

Steve stood up, leaned over the coffee table, snatched his newspaper, and sat back down again, determined to finish his crossword and ignore Namor for however much longer it took for Bucky to finish getting ready. He had tried being nice, and it hadn't gotten him anywhere.

Steve had just unfurled his paper when Namor spoke up again.

“Why do you wear those false wings on your head? You can’t fly.”

[theninjasheeep]

Blood of Love

Pairing: Pieck Finger x Porco Galliard (Modern/Fantasy AU)

This is my entry for @pleasantanathema’s Through Ink and Quill | A Classics Collab. I decided to go for a character study of Porco and Pieck's relationship following my Pokkopiku week piece Sweet Pandemonium paired with some vampire lore from Dracula and Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles.

The idea of vampire!Pokkopiku came from @sinnamon19’s over the top fan art.

You can also read it on AO3.

Summary: Since they are creatures of the night, their senses, as their feelings are heightened to lengths that can’t be explained by words. But since blood is their life sustenance, it is also their means of communication.

Warnings/tags: Pokopiku, Pokkopiku, Gallipieck, Porco Galliard/ Pieck Finger, Porco Galliard x Pieck Finger, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Character Turned Into Vampire, Vampire Bites, Vampire Turning, Blood Drinking, Mentions of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Blood Sharing.

Blood of Love

Waking up in darkness after spending most of his life shunning the sun when he wanted to sleep late was a welcome change for Porco. He could lie and pretend he was one of those humans-turned-vampires who wailed about the sun, its warmth and brightness and how much he missed it, but he didn't.

He didn't miss the impending sense of foreboding dread that clogged his senses or the tacit expectation that life should have some kind of meaning. It was a succession of routines: being born, growing up, reproducing and dying; waking up, going to work or school, coming home, going to sleep and starting again the next day. There was always an unsatisfied craving, a need to be satiated that gave rise to another....

If it weren't for that same life and the unexpected, he would still be stuck in the routine of a life that no longer felt like one. Not so long ago he was eager to die and escape the curse of boredom. However, now that he was undead, he felt more alive than ever.

He didn't miss living as a human.

He did not miss the wars that sent young men like him to fight in battles and advocate for ideals that were in no sense his own. Wars like the ones that took his brother away from him, wars that made mothers cry and lose their lives to grief, like his. He didn't miss being part of a greater good, he fancied being selfish, living only for himself and what he deemed worthy of living for, like Pieck.

Pieck who turned him, Pieck who gave him a reason to live in hope and love.

The stories that are told about vampires are rich and wide-ranging. The majority depict them as cold and devoid of emotion creatures who enjoy drinking blood and playing with their mortal victims without any consideration or pity, with no regard for their suffering.

Dracula is the one that, for Porco, is closest to the truth. Leaving out, naturally, his own inability to turn into mist, a bat or a wolf, and how terribly he has fared with the latter when he has encountered them on his nightly hunts with Pieck high in the mountains, puts him quite a distance from what is supposed to be the blueprint for all vampires.

It has been less than fifteen years since Pieck agreed to turn him and allow him to stay with her forever. Overall, he could even be considered a novice vampire, at least in comparison to the more than two hundred years his female partner has been crisscrossing the planet. However, it has been long enough to learn what is both necessary and appropriate, but what the books say is, amongst other things, preposterous and out of proportion.

Porco's hazel eyes, in the darkness of the room, shine like two torches as they scan the words in each book with unprecedented speed.

The library, nestled in Pieck's hideout in an abandoned town once called Liberio, is about the same size as the house itself. To the unsuspecting eye, the house is a dilapidated old manor from which thieves plundered the treasures long ago, leaving only the massive stone and iron columns. Underneath, however, is a hidden cellar and a sealed passageway that can only be opened with the supernatural strength of a creature like Pieck. Not even he, with his years beside her and the same superhuman strength, is able to open it without visible effort.

Once that initial obstacle is overcome, a long corridor rises up with small windows that let in just enough light to clue the nighttime inhabitants as to what time of day they are in. And behind that corridor is a scaled-down replica of the ruined house that exists above ground: three bedrooms, a kitchen - more out of habit than necessity - a living room and a huge bathroom with a bathtub built into the wall, in addition to the library, make up what could be considered Porco and Pieck's home sweet home.

Although it is ridiculous, Porco is not going to stop enjoying his reading and perusing every nook and cranny of the library while Pieck, with all her quirks, tries to do some vampire yoga in the room across on their home.

Stories about vampires always depict them as a kind of blood-drinking skeleton barely able to articulate words and unfit to walk freely in broad daylight, as the sun is their greatest enemy. The only thing they got right is that their skin burns and the acrid smell of ashes is the only thing that lingers in the air after they perish.

In other stories, they are portrayed as having no emotional capacity and could be easily mistaken for an angsty teenagers searching for their identity and place in the world, with little to no impulse control, driven by their whims, manipulating their way until they achieve their goal. In these tales, the depiction is so over-the-top ridiculous that it is almost comparable to handing a child a panic button.

What is undeniable is the enormous capacity of humans to envision and demonize what they do not know.

Superhuman strength and speed, mind reading and control, morphing into wolves, bats and mist? The books detail how versatile their powers are, how they are able to cloak themselves, thanks to their human appearance, and hide for long periods of time in large communities and lead a relatively normal life, without arousing suspicion.

Although there are also accounts that refer to them as ruthless, cruel and stone-cold beings, who toy with the humans they intend to use as food until they have had enough, and only then, kill them in the most violent and painful way possible.

At this, Porco rolls his eyes. In his experience, both he and Pieck are careful with the humans they feed on. They always look for ways not to cause them pain or fear, and above all, to avoid leaving behind scenes worthy of a gorey b-movie.

Perhaps the only time such a scene involved the two of them was when Pieck agreed to transform him into a vampire.

--

There was a moment where he couldn’t see or speak anything and everything went black for him. He started to listen to a heartbeat, two actually. One was his... the other...

“Pieck?” He asks. He can hear her voice somewhere in the distance, it sounds pained and far, far away.

Meanwhile, Pieck keeps pouring her blood on Porco’s mouth and is silently praying to whatever it is that created them and allowed them to be alive for him to survive this ordeal. She’s panicking now because he’s very pale, dead by now, but he’s not responding to her calling like he is supposed to.

“Porco, wake up!” She cries. “Open your eyes,” She pleads. “Come to me!”

Nothing happens and Pieck panics, falling in a circle of self loathing.

Giving up on him, she lets her head fall on his chest and at this point she’s just a mess of guilt and anguish. Her hair is on her face and his shirt is all bloody with his blood, her blood, her tears. She can’t move, the will to do anything has left her completely so she just lays there beside him on the floor crying.

--

He hasn’t read anything that depicts accurately how they are created. Probably humans think they just popped out of nowhere. However, vampires themselves have a myth: Ymir Fritz was the first human turned into a vampire, many call her the Founder. She was a slave but became Queen of Eldia when King Fritz was unable to defeat her in battle. He surrendered and married her and, in turn, she made him into a vampire and together they gave birth to their species.

Where are they now? No one knows, they are probably marble statues, since the longer a vampire lives, the whiter and rougher their skin becomes.

One book in particular catches his eye: its dark blue cover with gold sparkles featuring a nine-pointed star, the symbol of Ymir Fritz. However, after a brief glance, he discovers that it is a parody.

Porco snorts, he can't believe he's found a book in which vampires don't roast in the sun, but glow like a fairy in plain daylight without any repercussions for their lives. Pieck must have been really bored to get —and keep— something like that and deem it worthy of their huge underground library.

"Have you found anything interesting, Pokko?" Pieck's mellow voice reaches his ears from the bedroom. Her body doesn't make any sounds when she moves, but her soft breathing tells him that she's still trying to do vampire yoga, as if she needs to.

"Geez, Pieck!" Her taunting giggle is the only response he gets, and aware that she can also hear him from where she is, he retorts: "You scared the hell out of me." He grumbles in fake annoyance.

"Don’t worry, you won’t have a heart attack."

“Tch.”

But it is true, no matter how much she may sneak up behind him to scare him, his heart has long since stopped beating, and if he had remained a human, he would most likely have died many years ago. When Pieck came into his life one night, wounded and seeking shelter, he had lost the will to live. All that remained from the happy Porco who lived with his parents and brother was a mere shell that always reminded him of how much he resembled Marcel. And had he lived, despite his desire to die, he would have been almost forty years old by now.

Putting the books aside and getting up from the floor, Porco makes his way to the bathroom where there is a huge full-length mirror, which he and Pieck use in such creative ways when they make love at night.

A derisive smirk tugs at his lips as his reflection glances back at him through the mirror. There are stories that claim vampires don't see themselves in mirrors and that's the reason they avoid them. If only whoever wrote that knew the things the mirror in his bathroom has seen him do to Pieck.

Sometimes, when he is overcome by melancholy and Pieck's love and company fail to reach the deepest wounds in his heart, Porco wishes that particular myth were real. What would his life be if his brother were alive? What would Marcel's life be if the war hadn't extinguished the light in his eyes? The same deep green eyes that right now were scrutinizing his every feature in the mirror.

As the years have gone by, his skin has become paler and his eyes more golden. Pieck likes to say that he is slowly turning into a lion.

Speaking of Pieck...

A slender hand appears over his right shoulder in the mirror, and down his arm until it curls around his waist. Seconds later, the weight of Pieck's head resting on the space between his shoulder blades confirms that he is no longer alone in front of the mirror.

“Hey,” She greets, nuzzling against him tenderly, “what are you thinking?”

He clears his throat, embarrassed.

His left hand reaches up and intertwines his fingers with Pieck's over his chest, and looking behind him, his gaze meets hers.

“My brother.”

Pieck's embrace grows tighter and a line of kisses and scratches from her fangs on his neck make Porco forget, for a moment, how much he misses his family.

“I’m sorry.”

“You know they were long gone before I met you.”

“I know, it’s just...” She releases her hold on him, walking a few steps to stand in front of him in the mirror, her back against it. “I wish I could ease your pain, but I’d be lying if I say that I never think about my father, I miss him.”

Porco raises his hand to caress her cheeks. “You’re stuck with me forever, remember?”

She smiles softly, leaning against him and hugging him back. Porco buries his face on her neck and taking advantage of their embrace, sinks his teeth on her neck, making her moan in delight.

There’s another thing the books about them seem to ignore or purposefully miss: yes, they are creatures of the night and as their senses, their feelings are heightened to lengths that can’t be explained by words. But since blood is their life sustenance, it is also their means of communication. Drinking the blood of another vampire is a gesture so intimate and so rare, that when it’s done by partners, it’s more than just a confession of love and trust, it goes beyond lust and desire: a vampire can show what they feel through images to their partner when they share their blood, and since words are not his forte by any means, he’s always eager to show Pieck comfort and reciprocate everyday the comfort and peace she gave him.

Licking the tiny marks of his fags on her neck, he nuzzles against it, kissing her tenderly. Pieck, being smaller than him, has a harder time reciprocating his gesture, but she stands on her tiptoes and kisses him back, biting his lower lip and drinking his blood as well.

Emboldened by the gesture, he carries her and sits her in the sink, standing between her legs without breaking the kiss. At this, Pieck leverages herself on his shoulders and —finally— sinks her teeth on his neck, eliciting from him a low growl. He bites her back and through their blood they both convey to each other what their words and their hands, roaming over every inch of the other' s body, cannot: they are together until the end of time and the sadness that each one carries is shared by the other.

Together, they were safe.

[hei-ch0u]

Oh boy. Here goes... Shingeki no Kyojin Final chapter (139) thoughts and analysis ✰

Well, where do I even begin to accumulate my thoughts on the final chapter of Shingeki no Kyojin? Even after some time to reflect and read the chapter many times, over and over - I’m still going to struggle to form this analysis. But, alas I shall try my best despite this.

I appreciate anyone who takes the time to read this and understand my own views of the final chapter. Proceed with caution - ⚠️ spoilers ahead ⚠️

This chapter and ending overall has left me with a love/hate relationship with the overall tale in full. I’d even go as far as saying it has tainted my view slightly of the entire series in one way or another and I will never look at it the same way I did - as much as I wish I could. My reasoning for the love/hate relationship I have will come, but, I want to start off by saying that despite it’s ending I will always appreciate this story and Isayama for his work, even if I myself don’t approve of his steering towards the ending.

It is just like I said in my theory, the thing we all need to recognise with this story is that the characters we love and have cherished, were never going to get exactly what they desired and if anything this chapter is a clear indication of that fact. It has been a story that was paved for a bitter, somewhat ‘bittersweet’ ending (yes, I hoped it wouldn’t be in the form of ‘that’, but it was). It is just as Mikasa said - “The world is cruel and merciless, but it is also beautiful”. This tale became the typical embodiment of humanity and how ruthless it can be.

Again, like I said in my theory, it was heavily foreshadowed that Eren was playing devil’s advocate and might have to sacrifice his freedom in this life to save the ones who meant the most to him. We heard hints in OST’s such as My War, Red Swan, Vogel Im Kafig, among others…

“Angel playing disguise with Devil’s face”

“I’ll cry for you in a dream”

“All of my kingdom, for your return, I’d let it burn!”

“Spread your wings, which are dreaded in blood”

“And eternity as you, fly to heaven”

“Like a fallen angel”

“Looking down from above I feel awful”

“Every living being dies someday, whether we are ready to die or not”

“Is that the angel who flew down from the twilight sky?”

“Is that the devil who crawled out from the crevice?”

“Tears, anger, compassion, cruelty, peace, chaos, faith, betrayal.”

It was foreshadowed, all of those things in the last example is humanity in a nutshell. The use of birds to symbolise the dead was shown on multiple occasions. Hell, even in the Levi ova, his friends are shown as 2 birds above him as he continues forward. It didn’t shock me that Eren’s soul was represented or “reincarnated” in the form of a bird - simply because birds are the most free creatures on our planet, they can fly over land, sea and maintain the air around them. Realistically, we should’ve analysed the birds presence more (it was even implied in the opening trailer for season 4. Falco awoke to a bird flying above him, we saw the bird present many times in even past seasons and don’t get me started on how many times it was present in the manga). Our Angel was Eren. He was a fallen angel - a slave to the story and what it means to be human, to feel deeply and make sacrifices. He was never a monster, just a pawn in a wicked game.

For a split moment of initial shock, I let the “judging a book by its cover” ideal kick in. After calming down and having access to proper translations, again I can’t say I love this ending or hate it - it has the bittersweet notion that was intended, but it was also lukewarm. It is not perfect by any means, there are some plot holes and loose ends that could have been tied up by extension. However, Isayama maybe intended for it to remain open for interpretation. Something of which, I’ll reveal what I personally took from the ending.

One thing I am surely certain of, is that I can hold my hands above my head and say this chapter 100% embodied my love for my favourite character - Eren Jaeger. He had such a tragic outcome, he did it all for his friends and loved ones. He was never free, not in life and partially not in death. He was a broken child, in a broken world with a broken fate of shouldering mass amounts of responsibility with no idea of how to change or control the past, present and future. To witness your best friend talking of all the things he was going to see, yet knowing you wouldn’t be there to see it yourself. To know the girl who was there for him forever and always, could never be his to cherish. He had no freedom to do so. To live the life he wanted to, he would have died anyway. If he had ran off with Mikasa, he would have damned his friends. The life he wanted was not feasible, therefore he chose to sacrifice his desires so his friends could live long lives, unlike the one he was damned to. He was a character who was torn along all sides of the coin. Torn between his desires, his duty and his self - all while experiencing memories from all angles. He was not a monster or a psychopath and I won’t let others spit on his name due to their lack of analysis and empathy. He is human. He is allowed to feel. He isn’t pathetic for wanting to live, for wanting to be with his friends or the girl he loves. He is 19. Can you really say you wouldn’t feel the same? It is natural to be frustrated at your life being ripped from under your feet at such a young age. He was damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. Look at his face in paths when he talks with Armin, he is devastated and he had no solution.

However, I do believe he will be reunited with his friends once more. After all, the scouts were reunited in death, so why shouldn’t he? His friends will not live in vain, his sacrifice will mean something. They will live their life to the fullest and find peace in life and then in death - they have Eren to thank for that. Another misconception I want to pick out of the fandom is that they did not condone genocide, they did not thank Eren for ridding the population of 80%. Armin states it as an “error”. What they did do, was acknowledge Eren’s sacrifice for them to live and that they understood it’s not what he wanted himself, but that due to unseen forces. - did he really have a choice? It is not by any means perfect, but it gives them freedom to live out with the walls - was this not Eren’s dream? To be free, not confined within the walls by Titans. He did exterminate all titans, that is one goal Eren Jaeger accomplished. We don’t know the full extent of the power of the attack titan or the founding titan, this is one of the open plot holes. Eren himself explains this, he himself has no clue and his head is a mess - is it any shock that his head is a mess? People would go crazy over less. He was a pawn in a story with no happy ending. At least not for him.

Even in the bird reincarnation theory, I hope he is happy and free. Free to roam the skies, perch upon the tallest mountains, titter along the grass banks of the world and watch over his comrades, his friends, the ones he loves deeply… The tragic protagonist I will always remember. (Especially as one who was done so dirty by his author)

There was so many routes this manga could have taken, fan theories proved this and I do think the ending could have been executed better. We were not getting a happy ending, it is not happy by all means. Those characters left have to live in the aftermath, aware of their friends sacrifice and all he had to put himself through for them to live the lives they themselves desired. My favourite quote will always be:

“Don’t pity the dead. Pity the living”

Mikasa lost her family in more ways than one, she has to live a life where she didn’t get the one person she desired more than anything, but I believe she will move on and Eren will be by her side the entire time until they are reunited in death. Levi is the same, he lost everyone and whoever his love may have been - Erwin, Hanji, Petra (who knows). Either way, he didn’t have those loved ones around in the end. But, he no longer has to fight for survival and can spend the remainder of his time resting until the day in the future he can be reunited with his comrades, friends and even kick Eren a big one, ruffle his hair, tell him its okay and tell him all the things he wanted to tell him like he said. Armin lost his best friend, he held the burden above his head that he himself killed Eren and not Mikasa. However, he has an abundance of friends, he has Annie and he can travel the world like he desired - like Mikasa, he will have Eren by his side for the remainder of his time.

Jean can meet the woman of his dreams and have the children like he desired, knowing that even in their silly quarrels - Eren was loyal to him always. Connie can have his mother back, his family and move on. Reiner can live, not die like he once desired and live on knowing of Eren’s sacrifice, that he wasn’t a monster himself. He is free from the curse, as is Annie, Pieck and Falco. The warriors have their families back. Gabi and Falco can be together unlike their comparisons, sad, but fitting. They are in Paradis, a place we never expected them to be in the end, advocating for change alongside Onyakapon looking after their elder, Levi, alongside them. On Eren’s death anniversary, it is implied they all return to his grave to be together, none of them are alone like we initially thought. Mikasa is not alone in Paradis since it is implied that Levi, Onyankapon, Gabi, Falco, Historia even… still live amidst the walls - I think it would be wasteful to assume such a strong character secludes herself after the love of her life’s death. She does not have to love another man, she can choose to live her life for herself, a long one alongside her friends. This manga has never necessarily needed to have love stories, they are implied, but not needed. For life itself is the embodiment of their freedom.

This above is the rosy way of looking at it and it’s what I personally will take from it. I overall think it is terrible writing and use of dialogue - there’s no denying it. I myself as a writer and artist would have done it differently. Isayama has created a manga with a tragic story that reveals the raw, tainted feeling of what it’s like to be human. We all want things, we all have desires…but we don’t always get them, no matter how hard we try, some will slip from our grasps. That is life, no matter the universe. Yes. But, I do think in ways Isayama did taint and obliterate Eren as a character. This I am disappointed in. It is a typical author ideal of damning his protagonist and the sad thing about being a stories protagonist - you risk being ruined due to being written so complex initially that the author loses sight of how to conclude your arc respectfully. I believe from what we have been shown, he would not have accepted his death that easily and would fight for another way. Although, I cannot blame him as I myself would have felt defeated, suicidal and depressed at learning everything he did after his contact with Historia at such a young age. Remember, how you are brought up in an already cruel world is key - he didn’t stand a chance. But alas, I still feel he would’ve fought. This Eren is not the Eren we saw the majority of the manga, but then again he did change and I feel so sorry that the Titan power had that effect on him.

This is the character development true Eren stans are enraged with. TATAKAE! Fight the attack titan, fight the founding titan, fight against your cruel fate - don’t succumb to defeat. There is always another way. I don’t accept this version of Eren, due to the development we saw built by Isayama of his character, I can’t. It leaves so many gaps among other plot reveals. I don’t see what was accomplished. Eren’s being, his life, was a ploy to keep the other characters we care about alive, but at what cost ? If I was Eren’s friend, I would go forward like he wanted me to, but I could never forget the burden he bared and what he had to go through and what he did to achieve that outcome for me. I would forever be sad. I would be living in a world much like this one, lacking in peace and serenity and above all is that not what we all desire in one way or another? He did not necessarily know the Dina titan would go for his mother, but he had to direct it away from Bertholdt since in the timeline it was not his time to die. Always remember the theory of time, one thing changed, drastically changes the outcome. He did not want civilians or people within Paradis to die, it became collateral damage and no one would be able to fight for some time because of the 80% notion. He gave them time to live, time to change things to the best of their abilities and experience all they possibly could. They became the ‘heroes’, but again, at what cost?

Now, to the plot holes and answers I feel needed to be present for the story to knit together in a better way. This will be less “paragraph” based and more pointed, since…well these things were not explained. Majority of potential foreshadowing was swept under the rug like it meant nothing to bring about the lukewarm feeling I was talking about.

The alien like hallucigenia, what exactly was its purpose? It’s reason for being? It disappeared and ceased to exist. No mention of how it came to be. Even Ymir just vanished. Everything ceased to exist and Eren himself couldn’t understand Ymir’s reasoning other than being able to witness love. This seemed to be cop out on Isayama’s part.

Historia’s pregnancy was heavily implied and emphasised on within the manga, making readers think it meant something (when a creator zones in on these things, its usually for further plot reveal) Her character development was destroyed and she deserved better. She sidelined herself and stayed away till the final moment where it is implied she and Armin will become the negotiators of a new world, all while housing tyrants (Jaegerists). Again a further implication of Shonen manga and its poor interpretation of women.

The conclusion to Ymir and Eren’s particular character arcs was shocking and this can’t be dismissed. We needed both their sides of things to explain more. It lacked real conclusion and didn’t match up to past events or character development. This chapter should have purely been an Eren POV with the ending moments of how the scouts moved on. Of course this couldn’t have been done in 1 chapter, hence the recognition that this manga needed ‘more’ and it wasn’t enough to tie it all together. Another flaw in Isayama’s writing and continuity.

The Ackermans? Don’t get me started. My theory again will entail my rage about this one. Did the Ackerman power cease to exist like the titan curse? What is their origin story? To imply the Ackerman blood concept in all its parallels and foreshadowing to not even have the 2 remaining characters from said bloodline talk about their shared experience in thorough detail is such an abysmal hole in plot. Especially with it being heavily emphasised throughout the entire manga.

I barely saw any signs of Eren being in love with Mikasa? If this was the case, then it should have been shown in the manga and emphasised like isayama did with many other things that eventually had no meaning. I always viewed their relationship as very toxic to both sides and needed amending. So for Eren to suddenly turn round and say he doesn’t want her to be with another man....I find this a very bad continuation and completely disregards how Eren has been the past 138 chapters. Why was it so hard for him to say these things even before he made contact with historia and unravelled it all? Was it the power of the attack titan preventing him?.... (below)

The attack titan and founding titan, explain how it works. Why does Eren himself not fully understand yet he embodies them? Why could he not have flipped the switch? Why could he not ask for help? Explanation is needed.

All the time loop links diminished to nothing other than Eren’s past, present and future…yet its implied in many characters even in their childhoods mentions of things they could not be aware of. How can it merely be coincidence?

I wholeheartedly believe that this was not the initial ending of Shingeki no Kyojin, specifically because I and a few others I’ve seen noticed the shift in the story around 10 or so chapters ago. It seemed to be going in the route of a few particular fan theories and then suddenly (quite drastically I’ll add) shifted into this ending. I can only theorise that Isayama changed his original ending along the way to please editors and readers in different ways. In interviews past, he has completely contradicted things he has said about the manga and its ending with what he has produced in the final chapter. When you look at it from a marketing point of view as a selling point, if Isayama had killed certain characters like “Levi” for example or left the ending dark as it possibly could have been (something I wouldn’t have put past yams to do) it would be bad from a marketing point given the likes of Levi is the targeted favourite of the series (even with being a side character) and editors would heavily warn him of this.

People are saying that it’s Isayama’s story and editors won’t have influence - you’d be heavily surprised how much the editing team can have influence, especially when a story of this magnitude becomes so popular. I do think in ways, Isayama gave up. As an artist even myself, its very abundantly clear when a fellow creative loses drive and how the concept of something becoming popular can influence you to become bored and look for a way out. Hence, the clear signs of the story coming out as rushed, its all there, the loss of continuity, the holes in plot and even though Isayama’s art can be inconsistently coherent - some parts of the past few chapters weren’t at the full potential we saw previously. We watched him get better to suddenly somehow revert? That to me seems like a creator who had just had enough and maybe in the end chose to veer off his original plan.

Alas! As I said, I will always love Shingeki no Kyojin despite its ending and loose ties, it holds a place in my heart and has been a favourite of mine since my school days. Being an adult now In her 20’s and experiencing the many troubles of what its like to be human and a creative can sympathise with the struggles and stress Isayama would have been under all these years as his manga gradually became the phenomenon it is now. As it is our favourite characters time to rest and move on, it is his also. Although the story is not where I and many others hoped it would go, I still thank him massively for giving me characters like Eren Jaeger, Levi Ackerman, Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlert… the list goes on. Thank you for embodying why Eren was my first and last favourite character. Goodbye Shingeki no Kyojin.

[ka-writes]

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Notes- Did I decide I was gonna write a fic at 2:00 AM? Yes yes I did... anyways I don’t have an archive account yet but I wanted to get it out there.... um here is chapter one of my space AU, because I absolutely fell in love with the AU.

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Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

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Ohh also challenge if you wanna do it, fill in the Title! And another one... if you were an alien what question would you ask a human other than basic questions, like name and age.

Also suggestions are always appreciated! And if you wanna support my main blog it is kadoodle.. also I have no updating schedule so I will when I want to.

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Warnings: Cussing, mentions of tight spaces and characters being trapped, mentions of corpses, and needles.

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“Humans are [Insert text here]”

Chapter 1: Idiots kidnap the wrong kid..

Honestly, life hasn't been bad. His needs were met, most of the time, and he had a.. place to sleep…

Yeah no life wasn’t great.

Tommy was easily, barely, avoiding Social Services. Sleeping on benches and occasionally grass. He got whatever wasn’t wanted and had an official bag for the first time. He had some spare clothes, and no money. The authorities stopped looking for him after a while and the only main challenge was getting essentials.

No one would miss him. No one would look for him. Therefore he was the perfect target among many others. The only thing setting him apart was his sheer ability to survive, not a want, like many of the others, it was a fact he would survive. Not that his captors knew that of course.

Alternative: Tommy gets kidnapped by aliens and sbi rescues him.

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He woke up in a cage.

Not a cell or a room, a fucking cage.

There were a few others in various cages around the room. All of which were either dead or close to it. Most of the ones still alive had been there for months, possibly years. No one knew of course.

The smell of rotting bodies stenched the place with a coppery coating. The room wasn’t large but not quite small. It was dull grey with layers of grime settling on the floor and cages. The room was long and skinny, lined with cages against either wall in a zig zag format. The only light was coming from the small door window, which happened to be positioned right in front of Tommy. It glowed a faint yellow and was blurry, not allowing Tommy to see into the hall.

Shadows would occasionally pass by the window. None ever stopped at it. Causing the ever growing hunger to grow more. Once one had stopped at the door, not for more than a second, before it screeched. It was inhuman and sounded like a hurt hawk from one of those nature documentaries. Tommy shoved his hands onto his ears and waited for it to stop. The thing chuckled, not like a human, but something close to it.

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Tommy waited for what seemed like hours before something happened. The door opened, sliding into the ceiling. A weird looking creature stepped in. It looked like it had a porcelain mask over its face with a painted smiley face. There were no ears or hair, instead just more porcelain, which formed a spear which sat on shadows. The thing was wearing a lime green hoodie and black leather pants that seemingly faded into the creature's legs. The knees bent inwards causing it to look awfully awkward as it crouched near Tommy’s cage. The hands were long and lanky with no real palm. The creature also had a tail that looked close to how Tommy pictured a devil's tail to look. This was the first time in ages Tommy was glad to be behind bars.

The thing pointed at itself and said,

“Dream.”

In the most heavily accented English Tommy had ever heard. That didn’t matter as much of the fact that the seemingly painted smile moved with the words.

“Come.”

The creature unlocked the cage and half dragged Tommy out of the cage into what Tommy presumed to be the lab. He noticed a window. The only thing for miles was stars. He was in space. He had been kidnapped by Aliens. Fuck.

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Humans were a heavily avoided species. The things were what kids would expect to come out of their closet. They were feared, and for good reason.

The first ship to find Earth was ecstatic. Finding another intelligent species in what would’ve been deemed as a planetary desert was a scientific breakthrough. Causing the entirety of the media to go insane for a couple of years.. That was until the first ship ventured onto the planet. It was immediately shot down. The entire crew was killed and the entirety of the ship was destroyed in a matter of minutes. The ISF (Intergalactic Safety Force) deemed it as a no flight zone and claimed to punish anyone in the desert. Even so poachers smuggled humans and within days had their ship crashed.

The only ones allowed to take humans were scientists, who were specialized in taking care of difficult species. They were allowed to test on said species and do whatever they wanted, in the name of science of course. Most people didn’t care how they treated them and were really only interested in what could kill them.

Which is where Wilbur came in. He was a toxicologist, a scientist studying poisons, he also dealt with various potions and other chemical mixes. This knowledge is what gained his entry to the Dream Team Ship.

He had been testing on around nine different humans for the past six months on the celestial calendar. This time Dream, his boss and the captain, brought in a juvenile human. He was skinny and lanky. Clearly had been starving before being taken. He felt bad before shaking off his pity.

“V74 and V83. Make sure he can communicate beforehand.” Dream promptly stated before leaving the kid in the room.

Wilbur tried not to think about his terrified face, before he clipped on the translator. Usually it is worn on the back of the head, since humans brains are vastly different than most species, it is clipped to the left side of the head.

The translator looks like a simple device when in reality it took dozens of celestial years to perfect it. It’s a small silver disk that ingrains into the part of the brain that controls communicating. After the body gets used to the device it can translate any language into one you understand instantly.

It took a couple more years for the translator to incorporate the estimated 7,000 languages spoken on Earth. For a planet that has been isolated it has a more complex and diverse set of cultures and languages, than Pellucidian has had in centuries. To say Wilbur was jealous, wouldn’t be far from the truth. Not that he studied cultures for a living. It was something that always interested him.

He put the device on the kid’s head and grimaced at the pain that was on the kid’s face. He quickly dried up the blood and mixed a solution that would ease the pain. It was clear and tasted like water, which is the only way they got humans to take the pain reduction.

The kid relaxed for a spilt second before tending at the unfamiliar setting.

“Where am I?” He snapped, causing Wilbur to jump back a bit, before collecting himself and standing up.

“The Dream Team craft’s labatory.” The kid’s face flashed with panic for a split second, “You have two testings scheduled for today. It will go quickly.”

“Will it be painful?” The kid asked. As standard for testing, Wilbur ignored the question and measured the substances. He quickly cleaned the puncture spot before giving him the needle.

The kid winced in pain. Wilbur swiftly led him to the testing chair. It had restraints that moved with the patient's body, which prevented bruising while keeping them in place. Wilbur clicked them on and sat at the desk located to the left of the kid.

“What did you inject into me?” The kid asked clearly trying to fight off the anesthetic.

“A dosage of Lidocaine, which is an anesthetic for your species. It’s only to numb pain that may come with the solutions we will be using today.” The kid’s face flashed with a deeper panic than before, causing Wilbur to tense. “We won’t start yet, since we have a list of questions to go through before we begin.” Wilbur lied. He hated testing people, especially kids. Dream of course didn’t care, like the rest of the Dreamon species. It made him sick. That was when he made a split second decision. Hoping he could get a distress signal out, without alerting the other crew members. He was gonna get the kid off the ship, at the next stop of course. Which was in three celestial hours.

The kid scoffed, clearly not believing the lie. He paused a moment thinking over his options before he smirked,“Fine. Ask me what you want bitch-boy!” Wilbur gasped, clearly not anticipating the insult.

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Chapter 1 End

1406 words

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End notes: Why the hell does google docs make it so hard to copy and paste??

Also I had to do some intense googling for this... I hope you enjoyed!

(Also also this is my first ever fanfic... please give feedback and reblog!!)

Minor mistakes are forgiven... don’t expect me to be perfect... I am dyslexic.

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Tommy: ....

Wilbur: ....

*intense starring*

Wilbur POV: I am kidnapping it.

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Chapter 2:

[recklessfiction]

A little cryptid human stuff for @puking-sand-gravel-and-rainbow, as a treat~

I’ve been thinking about how if we were to visit other planets, we’d probably be unfamiliar with different alien species’ sacred or strange sites. Like, for example, an alien was seen wandering around near stonehenge or chernobyl, my first thought wouldn’t be alien! It’d probably be something more like oh my god its some kind of cryptid or old folkloric monster (but that just might be me.)

So a human is stranded on a planet (as they usually are) and takes refuge in an old, dilapidated building that looks like it might have been a temple of some kind. She’s been wounded in the crash of her ship and has to pull out a fragment of the hull that’s lodged itself in her leg. It hurts and she screams but manages to get it out. Now, not far away is a small village who have all heard of the old practices that used to go on in the old temple just on the outskirts. They hear the screams and, assuming its the ghosts of long dead victims or the vengeful spirits of the mystics who died there, the mythology of the place grows and, without the human knowing, they have become, perhaps, a monster once summoned by those same mystics. 

Even our own stuff could become a sacred site. That same human, after healing, limps back to her ship to see if she can find her radio so she can call for help. She didn’t expect to find the shipwreck turned into some kind of free-for-all. She stays out of sight but watches creatures with heavy jewelry stooped around it. Were they praying? She can’t tell, but their strange voices rose high in the air. There are others there as well, what must be envoys from the different banners that surround the site. 

There’s no way she could get in and out of there now, she’d have to wait for nightfall. She turns to go back to the old temple but a cluster of eyes lock onto hers. One of the creatures in the envoy, looking weighed down by ornamentation. Her first thought is that they must be important. Her second thought is to run immediately, which she does. She hears no shouts from behind her so she assumes either the creature didn’t see her or didn’t say anything. She retreats to the temple. It’s only after nightfall, as she’s preparing to go back out towards the site, that she hears the voice.

“Where are you?”

She throws herself into the shadows without a thought, only turning to look when she is sure she cannot be seen. It is the thing, the bejeweled creature from the site. She doesn’t speak, only watches it as it enters the temple, looking around, obviously uncomfortable in the dark building. 

“Are you a monster?” it asks, “Or a spirit?”

Desperate for her chance to get back to her ship, and frustrated at being trapped here by this creature, she answers.

“I am a monster.”

The being startles, jumping away towards the door but surprisingly, it doesn’t leave, only settles by the open entrance. Fuck, she wants it gone so she can get back to the ship. The creature’s mandibles click nervously. Not waiting for it to ask more stupid questions, she roars.

“I’m a monster, didn’t you hear!? And that wreck out there is mine! Tell your people to stop their fawning over it and keep away! If I see them there again, I’ll- I’ll destroy you all!”

That got the creature moving, and with a pitiful shriek, it took off back out towards the encampment the envoys had set up. For a moment, the human felt their chest tighten and an uncomfortable worry settle in their stomach. They shouldn’t have said any of that. She hadn’t wanted to frighten anyone, but it was probably the only way she could get back to the ship without being caught herself. She hoped, at least, everyone had been cleared out. 

What she didn’t know, however was that the frightened creature had indeed warned its fellows about the monster in the temple that threatened destruction should its wreck not be left alone. And, as she’d hoped, the lot of them had cleared off by the morning, not wishing to anger the beast. However, in their distress, they warned any who they met not to visit the place and to tell others of the monster. 

‘Spread the word,’ they cried, ‘so that none fall victim to the monster’s wrath!’

And spread it did. 

[thewildwaffle]

The Prisoner

Garn had not been overly enthused when he found out he was scheduled for yet another shift. As much as it annoyed him, he had his suspicions that it would not be his last. He sighed as he loaded up in the transport. That’s what he was in for he supposed. After all, when you’re working for the Trinn-Harrup Syndicate, one of the galaxy’s biggest, most notorious criminal organizations, you just have to work until the jobs get done. It paid the bills though. Hopefully he’d be able to afford to get out of this gleng-hole soon.

Pickup was during the night cycle, which was, on their current planet Karbrin, especially dark. Garn, as well as four more guards and a driver, arrived on location and waited for the drop-off. The prisoner they were to escort to the Syndicate’s Headquarters must be a high-profile enemy, or so Garn thought. It wasn’t his position to be in the know. It was his position to make sure prisoners of the Trinn-Harrup Syndicate were intimidated  and unable to try anything stupid while they were being transported.

A beam of light lit up the abandoned lot where they were waiting. Garn shielded his eyes with one of his massive forearms.

“Dang Nebbilins, not only are they late, but they apparently feel the need to alert anyone within a quadrant of our whereabouts!” Garn heard the guard to his left murmur. He agreed. Dealing with Nebbilins was never an enjoyable ordeal. Their poor hearing and eyesight (especially at night) made any interactions with them incredibly noisy and conspicuous affairs. Not to mention that their quill-covered, opaque, multi-limbed bodies were hideous to most other creatures in the galaxy. Nevertheless, they were good at what they did, and what they did was catch and incapacitate prey. Especially when that prey had a bounty on its head.

The first two Nebbilins crept out of the ship, checking to make sure the coast was clear. They spotted the Syndicate guards, still somewhat blinded by the many floodlights from the newcomer’s ship. One of the Nebbilin scouts reared back its head and let out a series of loud squawking cries. Soon more Nebbilins trotted out of the ship, one half-carrying, half-dragging a bound figure. Nebbilin slime has a compound that paralyzes many species, which led them to be such good bounty-hunters. Certain quills can inject the slime into their prey’s bloodstream, if the slime that oozes from their skin doesn’t get to them first that is. Though their catch tonight looked like the slime had taken a toll on them, they seemed to still be in control of quite a few of their motor functions.

Impressive, thought Garn, This must be a particularly powerful prisoner. That would explain the high security tonight. The Nebbilins brought the prisoner to the Syndicate guards where Garn recognized the creature. It’s a human! I’ve only heard stories about them!

And what stories they were! Garn struggled to keep his calm. He had to look the part as an intimidating guard, but honestly, he wanted to get closer, get a better look. He wanted to know if any of the amazing stories about humans were true. Could they really survive being struck by lightning? Were their ancestors really hunter-gatherers that could pursue prey for days until it gave in to exhaustion? Could their punches really shatter Kartian bones?

He kept his questions to himself, however, as the other guards (who seemed substantially less curious about their prisoner) exchanged the bounty for the human and gruffly returned to the transport shuttle, prisoner in tow. Garn followed quietly, making sure to keep the human in view from behind the hulking masses of the fellow guards.

The transport ship was a bit cramped with all the guards and the human. Garn figured this was likely because the close quarters would increase the intimidation factor for any creature unfortunate enough to find themselves the enemies of the Syndicate. One guard sat up front with the driver, two in the seat closest the door, and one on either side of the prisoner in the back. There was no chance of anything fighting its way out, in case any notion of doing so were even still possible to any unfortunate enough to be in such a position.

Garn, to his silent delight, had been assigned as one of the guards to sit next to the human. The other guard, Arun sat on the other side of the bench and didn’t speak, as was protocol, but neither did he object when after a few moments, Garn quietly began pestering the human prisoner with questions.

“I’m not supposed to speak to you, but I’ve never met a human before. My name is Garn, what’s yours?”

“Porter. My name’s Porter Stone.”

That was an odd name to Garn, but who was he to judge alien names. “Have you ever been struck by lightning?”

Porterstone looked at him curiously. “Uhh… no.”

“Do you know any other humans who have ever been struck by lightning?”

The human stared at him in the darkness. After a moment, his mouth stretched across his face and he made a short breathy noise that must have been some sort of laugh. “No. Not personally.”

“But there are humans who have been struck by lightning? And they lived?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow, that’s amazing!” Garn straightened back up as one of the guards at the door turned back to check on them. He waited for a while before leaning back over to speak to the human again, “Porterstone, I’ve never met a human before. I have so many questions. I wish we had met in better circumstances so we could ask them.”

“You and me both,” Porterstone chuckled.

Garn straightened up and sat silently for a bit. He reprimanded himself mentally. He meets a human and the first thing he asks is the lightning question? Really? His mind raced as he tried to pick another question, a better question. Who knew when he’d meet another human after all.

“Do you know to… uh… how to snap? I mean, snap your fingers?” Garn did his best to imitate the motion with his own large fingers. He’d heard humans could make an insanely wide range of noises, with their mouths, with their bodies, etc. They were supposedly one of the greatest mimics of the galaxy. Garn could think of so many situations of where that skill would be so useful, or even dangerous.

The human next to him just stared, an amused look of perplexion clear on his face. Finally he smiled and shook his head, his white teeth exposed and catching what little light there was around them.

“You know, of all the criminals or lawmen alike that have questioned me, you’ve definitely got the most unique style.”

“He’s just too curious for his own flargin’ good,” Arun grumbled from the other side of the bench. “It’s gonna get him killed in the end if he keeps it up.” Garn caught the sidelong glance he was shot and took it for the warning that it was.

They were silent again for a while as Garn grumpily stewed in his life to this point. He couldn’t wait to get out of here, away from the Syndicate, start his own life, have his own adventures. Instead, he was stuck doing the grunt and dirty work of the Trinn and Harrup crime lords. It was not pleasant work and often he would wake from night terrors after having to relive something he saw or had been ordered to do. He hated it. He hated all of it, but he had to stay. It was the only way he was ever going to ever be able to afford to leave. He’d get out of here. Very few ever did, but he was going to make it. He had to.

Garn was pulled out of his dreaming when he felt a gentle nudge to his arm. He looked down at Porterstone who had a sideways conspiratory grin on his face. He moved his tied up arms to draw Garn’s attention, the fingers on one hand held together oddly. With a quick move, his fingers made a soft snap sound.

“Oh, dang, hold on, that wasn’t a very good snap at all.” He readjusted his fingers and did it again, this time making a clear loud snapping sound. He chuckled at Garn’s awed reaction and snapped his fingers again in rapid succession.

“You both need to quiet down,” grumbled Arun. “You’re in enough trouble as it is, human. We’ll be arriving soon, and you’ll find there will be nothing to laugh about there.”

That stopped the talking for a while, but Garn felt more and more questions bubbling up inside him again. He had so much he wanted to say to Porter. After a few minutes of silence, he dared to risk whispering again.

“I’ve only heard stories about humans. Most of them seem too amazing to be true, but here you are, still able to move and speak after coming into contact with Nebbilin toxin. Are the rest of the stories true?”

Porterstone smiled broadly in the dim cabin light, but said nothing. Garn straightened up again as another guard checked on them, announcing that they were just about to arrive at the Syndicate headquarters before returning to their seat. The silence seemed heavier than usual to Garn. He had worked for the Trinn-Harrup for over three solar cycles now, and he had never felt such pity for a prisoner. He dreaded the idea of what would happen to this human. He looked sideways at Porterstone. The human’s smile had faded slightly, replaced now with a relaxed, almost smug expression. Garn did a double-take. How was the human so calm? Maybe he didn’t understand the full extent and breadth of what was going to happen once they reached the Syndicate?

“Garn, I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you remind me of a stuffed toy I had as a kid.” Garn turned his head sharply at Porterstone’s voice. His mind had been wandering off to the future that lay in store for this near-flippant creature at his side. When Garn didn’t respond, Porter went on, “It was one my aunt had won for me at a county fair when I was very young. It was a strange toy, we never really figured out what animal it was supposed to look like, but I loved that thing… named it fluffy, creative name, I know. I carried it wherever I went. I kept that thing for years, it’s probably still sitting somewhere in my parent’s attic for all I know.” Porter paused and sighed quietly with a smile. “Well anyway, I hope you don’t mind me saying, but I guess you just look like a friend to me.”

Garn felt a mix of feelings. It seemed an odd thing to say, especially coming from a bound and tied prisoner he was guarding. He was supposed to be intimidating and scary, after all! No prisoner had ever dared speak to him like this. As a matter of fact, no prisoner had ever dared speak to him at all, beyond maybe scared whimpering. A part of Garn felt indignant at the human’s words, and yet, a small part of him felt thrilled beyond measure. And yet, a larger part of him felt overwhelmingly thrilled and surprised. He’d heard that humans could pack bond with anyone or anything given the right circumstances. Here and now seemed like the complete opposite of “right circumstances,” and yet, he couldn’t shake his feeling of joy at being considered a human’s friend. Which only made the human’s fate seem even more tragic and personal to Garn.

It certainly was a double edged sword in so many ways.

The transport ship lurched to a stop. The doors were opened by waiting Syndicate guards outside. The guards by the door jumped out, weapons at the ready as Arun and Garn escorted Porter out. Almost as soon as Porter’s feet hit the ground, the guards made the mistake of momentarily letting go of his bonds. He swept the legs out from under two of the surrounding guards. Quick to react, the remaining guards reached to grab him again, but Porterstone smack one’s hand away and looped their bound hands around the guards neck and pulled down. As the guard bent down with the human’s strong pull, their face was met with Porterstone’s rapidly rising knee. There was a disturbingly loud crunch sound as something or several somethings broke and the guard went down hard.

The human crouched down and backed up hard into a guard behind him, knocking them back before he swung his elbow hard into the side of their head. Another guard down.

The guards he had first knocked down were back up and grabbed him. After a brief struggle, they too dropped to the ground. Garn, who had still been getting out of the shuttle couldn’t see what had happened, but as he stepped out, he could see Nebbilin injection pins in the necks and arms. 

Garn stared, flabbergasted at the human. He hadn’t just been exposed to the toxin, he’d been injected with it? And was still conscious? Had he pulled those out of his own skin? Those were supposed to take a medic to be removed safely! What was he thinking?!

Porterstone whipped around instinctively to square up with Garn. Garn didn’t move. Eventually Porterstone relaxed his defensive stance ever so slightly. Behind him, Garn could see more guards coming from the headquarter’s entrance. They might not have properly seen what was going on because their formation seemed formal and in no real rush just yet. That wouldn’t last long though. If Porterstone was going to get away, he had to go.

“The shuttle’s keycard should still be up front with the driver. You can still get away.”

Porterstone frowned and tensed as if he might still attack. “Why?” The guards coming up from behind must have realized something was up now, as a chorus of yells rose up for someone to call an alarm and several other voices shouting about the prisoner escaping.

The human glanced back and took a few steps toward the driver’s side of the shuttle. “Why are you helping me? You’re one of them.”

“I hate it here. I don’t want them to hurt you.” Garn’s voice seemed so quiet that he wasn’t sure if Porterstone could hear him. 

He must have though because as soon as he pulled open the shuttle’s door and threw the driver out and onto the ground, he yelled back, “Get in!”

“What?”

“You’re different. I’m never wrong about my first impressions.” Porterstone struggled with trying to start the shuttle back up. Garn ran around to the door. “If you hate it here now, you’ll really hate it if they think you helped me escape, so get in.” Still the shuttle’s engines remained quiet.

Garn looked back. The guards were almost on them. A realization hit him that the only reason they hadn’t started firing at them was because they thought Garn was still trying to stop the prisoner. As soon as they realized he wasn’t on their side anymore, that would no longer be the case. 

Garn turned back to Porterstone, still struggling to even get the shuttle started back up. “Move!” He shoved the human away from the controls and jumped into the seat. “I know how to drive this thing!” The side of the shuttle rocked as the other guards began opening fire. Well, they must have figured it out.

The instant the engine roared to life, Garn shoved it into gear and tore out of there. The shuttle leapt into the air before it leveled out in it’s forward momentum. Garn swerved behind a carved stone to avoid the blaster fire as he aimed the shuttle back toward the headquarters outer field entrance and gunned it.

“Pedal to the metal dude, we make it past that, we’re clear.” Porterstone stared ahead toward the security gate, which was starting to close. Garn growled. He had the shuttle’s throttle open as wide as he could, but it was going to be close. This was really happening. This was really happening! How the frewan did this happen so fast? The gates were almost shut by the time the shuttle reached them. With a loud crash, the shuttle’s motion wrenched the gate open just enough for them to rip their way through, the outer armor screaming in protest as it was gouged and ripped against the door. With a lurch, the shuttle pulled itself free and they shot out into the darkness of the night.

“Woohoo!” Porterstone howled. He slapped his still-bound hands against Garn’s shoulder, “That was amazing flying my man! Amazing! We did it!”

We did it. Garn couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Or what he was seeing. Or what he was doing. He. He was out. Oh flarg. This was happening. He was out. That’s what he’d wanted for so long, but he felt a pit in his stomach. He was out, but he was now a fugitive of the Trinn-Harrup Syndicate. He was as good as dead.

The celebrating human must have caught on to his growing terror of his realization.

“Hey, guy, don’t worry, we’re out. You don’t… you… uh… what’s your name? I need to know what to call you.”

Garn felt so tense that he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to speak, but he finally managed to say his name. Or more like whisper it. “Garn. My name’s Garn. Oh stars I’m going to die. What have I done?”

“Garn. Garn look at me. Wait, no, keep watching where you’re going. Just listen to me. You can’t go back now. You know what will happen even better than I do if you go back.” Garn tightened his hold on the steering wheel. Porterstone continued. “What’s done is done. You’re free, do you hear me? You hated that place and you’re free.”

“They’ll come for me. They’ll come for you. We’re still going to die.”

Garn could see the human in his peripheral as he sat still next to him. He sighed. “Garn?” Garn shot him a quick glance before looking back out the front of the shuttle, dodging trees and obstacles, trying to dodge and weave and stay hidden in case they were being followed. “Garn, if you want, I could use someone like you on my team. Stick with me and you’ll never have to worry about the Syndicate again.”

“They caught you before, they can do it again. You only got away because of me.”

“Exactly, and now I have you. Plus, those bounty-hunters only got me on a fluke. See if I ever enter another “art show” that rat snitch hosts again,” He muttered.

A few moments of quiet and Garn could feel the fear tension ebb out of his muscles slowly. He took a few deep breaths. Once his heart felt like it was beating at an almost normal-ish rate again, he finally spoke. “Where am I going now?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, just a bit further. I’ve got a plan.”

Garn nodded silently. After a moment, he realized something the human had said. “Wait, you said you have me?” He felt a stir of hopefulness at what that could mean. 

Porterstone looked over at him again. “Oh, yeah, I mean, if you want to, that is. I could use you on my team. I think you’ll fit in, and well, there’s safety in numbers after all. You can do whatever you want though.”

Garn took another breath and nearly started laughing. Or maybe crying. He wasn’t sure, but he did manage to nod and smile. “Yeah, I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.” He could. He wanted to.

As he drove on, Porterstone would occasionally give an instruction or direction. Garn would follow silently, silently wondering and thinking of more questions he had for his new human friend, as well as marveling at the new life before him. He was free. And he had already made a powerful friend. Whatever else was ahead of him, he was happy to face it.

Part 2

[evendeadlmthehero]

The Five Year Promise: The Outcome (10/10)

Summary: Y/N Stark, a 20 year old superhero, makes a promise to a 16 year old Peter Parker that if five years pass and she still hasn’t found love, that they’d go on their first date. And then, the snap happens; Y/N’s gone and Peter isn’t.

Warnings: angst, violence, swearing

The Five Year Promise Masterlist

Based on the events of Avengers: Endgame and Spider-Man: Far From Home (2023)

The black fabric of your clothing caressed your skin as you sat against the cold couch. This was your home, apparently. A place you were unfamiliar with due to your five year absence. You felt a vacant void within your mind, a feeling of anguish everytime someone had smiled at you in pity.

So many heroes who you have not met. Some of them with powers beyond compare. Some of them were able to fly, shoot lightning, have super strength, telekinetic abilities, alterfication in size and other powers you have not seen yet. But somehow, the cruel and momentous villian that the Universe has ever been exposed to was defeated by your father; a human.

It had not made sense to you. You tried to make it make sense when you had spoken with Dr Strange. But the man looked at you in guilt and sadness, repeating the same thing everytime you asked him why.

“It was the only way.”

It didn’t make sense. Surely Wanda could have defeated him. Surely Strange could have defeated him. But maybe your grief and anguish clouded your perception. The perception that this was the only way. When will accept this? Only time will tell.

“When I told people I was finally moving on,” your father spoke, as you watched him with Morgan on your lap. You looked at your father in adoration and desperation, wishing he was really standing there. Wishing it wasn’t an AI. “From the d-dea- the disappearance of my daughter, I lied.”

A tear escaped your eye as your father’s figure stood up and walked towards the three of you. Thor, Peter, Steve, Rhoudey and Happy all stood behind as the video was playing. “I could never move on. She’s my daughter. My first daughter. And Morgan needs her. What we’re doing is damn near impossible so I made this video in case I didn’t make it. Maybe- maybe I’m just overthinking. This will work out perfectly.”

He then looked at both you and Morgan, bending down. You reached out to touch him, but was left with a hollow feeling as you realised it wasn’t real. He was really gone. “I love you all 3000.”

•

Your back was against an old oak tree. You can feel the bark piercing your back, surely leaving red marks. The garden was soundless, an occasional sound escaping from an Alpaca nearby. Leaves rustled against the ground as the sunset down.

You heard footsteps coming towards you, looking up to see Peter’s face. He gave you a small smile, one that was not out of pity. One that told you that he was checking up. To let you know you were not alone. That in the five years that you, May and Ned were gone, he understood what you were going through.

He sat down near you, breathing in the fresh air. You glanced down, looking at the tattoos coming out of his suit. You moved your hand up, carefully placing it on his arm. Peter glances at your hand, unsure at what you were doing.

You traced his tattoos. It seemed every each one had a meaning. One was a Star Wars quote about hope, which you knew was a reference to Ned. You rolled his sleeve up to investigate further.

You saw an image of Mary holding her son, Jesus. You smiled to yourself, knowing that Peter’s motherly figure was of course his mother and May. You then went to look at the tattoos on his neck. Goosebumps arose on Peter’s skin when you delicate fingers skimmed across his neck.

At there it was; a date. The date that was 5 years after you made the promise. The promise that you’d go in a date with him, that you’d finally give Peter a chance. It was almost a month ago that the date was meant to happen, and here Peter had it tattooed on his neck.

Peter looked down at you, his fingers gently pushing your hair back. He then gently caressed your cheek with his thumb, looking at you with love and gratitude in his eyes. Gratitude that fate had finally brought you back to him. “Tell me exactly what’s on your mind right now.”

“We never got to bury her,” your voice still hoarse from the funeral service that was hours ago. Peter knew who you were talking about when you had said ‘Her’. “She died alone. Without anyone to hold her. Without anyone to talk to her till she took her final breath. She died in a place she’s never been to and on a cold, hard surface. All she ever wanted to do was wipe the red off her ledger. But- but what she didn’t know is that she didn’t need to. She wiped it a long time ago. She- she didn’t need to do that- I don’t understand why she did that, why my dad did that- I just don’t understand why-“

Peter grabbed you as you fell into a fit of sobs, rubbing your back gently. “When you, May, Ned and My Uncle left me, I felt the same. I felt hurt and betrayed by the universe. But the worst thing I did?”

You moved away from the hug to look at him, waiting for him to continue. “The worst thing I did is leave everyone who was trying to help me. Especially your Father and Nat. They tried to keep in contact with me but- but I felt like I didn’t need anyone. That I’m always going to be on my own. And I don’t want you to feel like that.”

“I’m just scared,” you whispered, sniffing as the cool wind blew your hair back. “Scared of the unknown. The Avengers lost half its members in the Battle. What if we can’t protect it anymore? What if my father’s and Nat’s sacrifice was for nothing?”

Peter sighed, scratching his beard. “No one knows anything about the future. And if the battle showed anything, it just showed that we have allies all around the galaxy. Captain Marvel, Guardians of The Galaxy and all those armies from all around the planets. We might not know what’s in store for the future, but there are Avengers everywhere willing to bet their lives for freedom.”

•

Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest. You were nervous. More then you’ve ever been in your life. You looked at yourself in the mirror, letting out a breath. Your hair was straightened, you wore a dark rose lip gloss and had a golden eyeshadow look.

You wore a white milkmaid dress, one that was off the shoulder. You never felt as beautiful, yet terrified, as you did at this very secound moment. Every minute that passed by was another minute that you over thought.

And then there was a knock on the door. You froze, your breath slightly faltering. It was now or never.

“C’mon, get a grip,” you told yourself as you grabbed your purse. You then walked over to the door of your room before opening it. There, you saw Peter holding a bouquet of red roses, donning an all black suit.

“Wow,” Peter whispered, looking at you amazed. You blushed, looking down at your feet. “You make the five years of waiting totally worth it.”

“Shut up Parker,” you laughed, rolling your eyes at him. Butterflies were occupying your stomach and you knew that they weren’t leaving anytime soon when you made eye contact with the spider boy.

“These are for you,” Peter spoke, giving you the flowers. You smiled, taking it from him before sniffing it. The flowery, magical smell hit you, making you close your eyes.

“They smell amazing,” you told him, before placing them into a vase near your door. “Thank you Peter.”

“No worries Princess,” He spoke, before extending his arm. “How about we head to our 7 o’clock dinner reservation?”

You grabbed his hand, a smile on your face that wouldn’t leave. “Let’s do it Mr Parker.”

•

“I still can’t believe we’re having our first date in London,” Peter spoke, as he ate his spaghetti. It was a gorgeous resturant, one that gave you the view of the London Bridge. “I always thought it was going to be at the Thai place near my house.”

“Well I have business matters to attend here for the week,” you spoke, taking a bite from your ravioli. “I need to do a press conference today about some pressing matters.”

“Like what?” Peter asked curiously. You took a sip from your wine, before placing it down. You then looked outside where the river of Thames was. A dark cloud started to form over the famous river. “Y/N?”

“Oh sorry,” you shook your head, now paying attention to him. “Basically the state of the Avengers. The new members like Carol and Scott. And what to do with the children who are still homeless after the decimation.”

“Are you sure you’re up for it Y/N?” Peter spoke, now putting away his fork and knife to grab your hand. “You can always get Sam or Happy to speak on your behalf-“

“I have to,” you cut him off. You nodded to yourself, biting your lower lip. “I have to. Because if I don’t, I’m not a Stark.”

“If you feel like you have to, I will be standing right beside you,” Peter spoke, caressing your hand. You smiled at him, feeling less anxious about this week’s press conference. “No matter what.”

“Peter?” Your voice slightly wavered. You were now glad you rented out the whole resturant, giving you and Peter both some privacy. It meant you could be more open with him without having the public know every detail.

“Yes Y/N?” Peter asked, his face more serious at the tone of your voice.

“Will you be my boyfriend?” You asked him. Peter smiled so widely, he could feel the muscles of his cheeks hurt. This is it. This is what he wanted. This was the ending he wanted in the five years of pain he endured.

“Yes I will,” he replied back. He leaned forward, capturing your lips in his. It was a short, sweet kiss. One that made sure you remember this moment for the rest of your life.

You pulled back, suppressing the huge smirk that wanted to escape. Your eyes then unintentionally went back outside to the River of Thames, before they widened at the sight.

“Well as our first act of boyfriend and girlfriend, do you want to fight some elemental monster with me?” You asked, as you stared at the giant creature that emerged from the river, lightening coming out of it.

You saw a man flying around the beast, throwing green mist towards it. Peter looked outside the window, lifting up his eyebrows as you both got up from your seats. “Yeah, I mean sure why not.”

You pressed the button on your necklace before a now black suit enveloping your body. It was to commemorate Natasha Romanoff. Peter too pressed the button on his necklace, one that you created for him, before his spider suit came alive.

“Well come on Quasar, hop on,” Peter told you. You put your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he put his hand below your bum. He then ran up to the window, which you blasted down with the Quantum energy.

He then jumped out of the window before you let go, flying towards the source with your now boyfriend beside you.

“This is a great first date!” You spoke from the comms. You heard Peter chuckle at that. “Us fighting monsters together.”

“And I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Peter replied back. You smiled before charging full speed towards the creature.

Maybe everything was going to turn out just fine.

Fin.

Post Credit Scene

One Week Ago

“You know I tried,” Bruce spoke to you and Steve as Steve begun readying up to put the stones back in their respective timelines. “I tried to bring her back, when I snapped my fingers, I tried to bring her back.”

“We know,” you spoke softly, rubbing his now huge green arms. “We know Bruce. But I think we just have to move on, rebuild the Avengers. It’s what she would have wanted.”

Bruce nodded, a sad look in his face. He loved the women. He wanted to run away with her, start a new life. But it was never meant to be. He knew that now. Their jobs, their duties prevented them from ever trialing their love.

But in a different timeline, in particularly 2014 Vormir, a certain Black Widow laid soundlessly on the ground. Her own blood surrounded her as her eyes were shut; no pulse heard.

‘Bring everyone back,’ Bruce thought, as he brought his thumb and index together, ready to snap. ‘Bring her back.’

And as soon as his thumb and index swiped, there was a thunder. The Black Widow still laid on the floor soundlessly, her chest unmoving, her face pale and her blood getting cold.

One second passed.

Two seconds passed.

Ten secounds passed.

A minute passed.

A deep breath was heard and echoed through the walls of Vormir.

“That’s weird,” you spoke, feeling the absence of an item on your wrist. Bruce looked at you, a confused look in his eyes.

“What’s weird?”

“The charm bracelet that Nat gave me,” you spoke, rubbing your wrist as you grabbed the jewellery item from the the ground.

“It- it just broke. Out of nowhere.”

Taglist will be added tomorrow

[thelordofdarkreunion]

The Great Game

This is kind of a sequel to “Man Behind the Curtain” and prequel to “The Misty Planet.”  I decided to write a bit of an explanation story for some of the things that are going on, and some of the things that are about to happen.  Be aware, that I have not written every player of the Great Game into this story, and I probably forgot a couple that I’ll add if I ever write another story like this.  None of these characters are mine.  Enjoy!

“There is no death.  There is nothing to keep us in check… except each other.  We are what you would call gods, and this is the eternal game for absolute dominion over all.  Now, there are new players to be dealt in.  Welcome to the Great Game, my enemy.  Our journey has just begun.”

It was empty blackness.  Nothingness.  But yet, it was something.  Something different… something that mortals could not comprehend.  It was utterly anathema to all normal senses, to Euclidean geometry, to the laws of time, space, and reality themselves.  It was completely indescribable, except to the players themselves.  But, to a mortal, it might be described as something like this:

Beings, sitting around a massive table.  

There were a lot of newcomers this time.  They were attracted by this… the Great Game.  The game of gods, all vying for power over each other.  Originally, there had been three players.  The three original Dark Gods of Chaos, all battling for cosmic supremacy between each other.  Then, a fourth was born.  But with the fourth came someone else: the Anathema.  The End of Chaos.  The Supreme Ruler of Mankind.  The King of all Human Kings.  

It was then that the Great Game got a lot more interesting.  At last, the Dark Gods had an opponent different from themselves.  The Emperor of Mankind wished for His species to thrive, and wanted to impose His order throughout the stars.  The Dark Gods disagreed.  The Primarchs, genetically crafted sons of the Emperor, were corrupted.  The Emperor was mortally wounded, and his physical form confined to the Golden Throne of Terra.  But He still fought ever onwards against Chaos for the protection of His race.  The game continued, uninterrupted, for ten thousand years since then.  

Then, through a series of completely random circumstances that none of them saw coming, eight other universes were thrown in with theirs.  Some of them did not have gods in any sense, but many did, which brings us to the present setting.  

If it could be described, the table would have been utterly massive to accommodate the bulk of many of the players.  They were gods, after all, and most liked to make their forms as big as possible.  On the table were layers upon layers of… things.  Layers upon layers of images of planets, galaxies, people and creatures all flashed past.  Each individual god had their own “color” if it could be described as such.  Each of the holdings, or pieces in the Game, were tinged with the color of the god they belonged to.  Gods moved individuals as they saw fit, for the lives of mortals were simply pieces on their chessboard. 

The figure of the Shadow Broker, tinged with the cerulean blue of Tzeentch, died as his broken figure was gunned down by his own guards.  The ever-changing, utterly unknowable form of Tzeentch flashed a thousand different emotions at once.  

“Well then.  There goes one strand of fate.  A pity he did not succeed.”  Tzeentch leered at its fellow players.  “It does not matter in the end, though.  Or does it?  One really can never tell.”  A bird-like face formed on the mass the was Tzeentch, followed by a tentacle-like arm that scratched it thoughtfully in a very mortal fashion.  “I’m still wondering whether to leave this strand alone, or continue to spread my… taint to this galaxy.”  Tzeentch grinned over to the Emperor of Man.  “Is that not what your followers call it?”  The figure opposite Tzeentch scowled.  

“Because that’s what it is.  You Dark Gods have meddled in the affairs of mortals for far too long.”  The Emperor was clad in ornamented golden armor, with the symbols of His rein etched into the surface.  His features were those of a man born in the wilds of ancient eurasia, in the very first human civilization.  His skin was a blend of bronze and burnt umber, and glowed with the golden radiance that seemed to swirl around His person.  His hair was shoulder length and solid black, held in place by a golden laurel wreath.  But it was the eyes that betrayed his true power.  They glowed solid gold, with endless depths promising eternal vengeance against the enemies of humanity.  Golden electricity crackled around His eyes and face as he stroked his chin, considering His moves.  He turned to his left and right.  “What do you think?”  

The slim figure to the Emperor’s right shrugged.  

“I’m not really sure.”  This figure had short cut black hair, and took the form of a human man wearing the uniform of the United Federation of Planets’ Starfleet.  He gave a quick grin.  “Although, this group that unknowingly defeated Tzeentch’s opening move shows a lot of promise.”    The enigmatic figure of Q gave a mischievous smile once again.  “Yes… they show promise.”

“The balance of fate may hang on their shoulders,” replied the figure to the Emperor’s right.  He took the form of a human man, a very familiar one to many people.  He had a shock of blond hair beneath a pale face.  An eyepatch covered one eye, while the other glowed green.  Deus, or the one who had been tasked to play the Game, wore the form of Admiral Adam Vir.  

“Be a shame if they were… corrupted.”  The voice that spoke was so completely, utterly perfect in every regard that mortals quite literally would have died at its sound.  Another figure, glowing with pink and white light, sat opposite the human gods and next to Tzeentch.  Its form, just like its voice, was entirely perfect, combining the best features of a thousand different races into one.  However, there was something wrong, deep down, with it.  Many of the less powerful gods, and certainly any mortal, would feel the urge to vomit at its sight.  To look upon it was to die.  This was Slaanesh, Dark God of pain, pleasure, and unimaginable excess of the senses.  

“Yessssss.  Corruption, though, exists in many forms.”  This voice was a deep baritone, filled with phlegm and rasping coughs.  The form of the god was massive and bloated with oozing boils and rotting skin.  Organs spilled out from the bulk, and necrotic flaps of flesh covered it.  Nurgle, Lord of Pestilence and Decay considered the board.  “And if they are to be corrupted, then it will be my corruption to take ahold of them.  Not yours, Slaanesh.”  

“And how do you know it will be any of your corruption to reach them?” asked another voice.  This one was deep, growly, and distinctly human.  It had the sort of dark edge to it that made one instantly wary around it’s user.  The user himself was wearing heavy black hooded robes and gloves, and considered his moves carefully from behind his dark hood.  

“You’re not even a god, Tenebrae,” boomed another voice.  This one swirled with untamed power, and hissed with darkness.  A shifting mass of darkness, convoluted into a humanoid head, stared with glowing purple eyes.  

“Yes, and no,” replied Tenebrae.  “I am not a god, though I should have been.  But it matters little.  In the end, I, and I alone, am the Dark Side of the Force.”  Tenebrae paused for a moment.  “Plus, you, Dormammu, lost to a mortal.  Stephen Strange, if I remember correctly.”  This was said with a malicious grin.  

“So did you!” raged back Dormammu.  “Revan and the Hero of Tython.”  Tenebrae scoffed.

“I defeated Revan and bound him to my will.  I controlled him once, and tricked him twice.  He is nothing by a piece under my possession.  And in the end, my defeat did not matter.  I am still at this table, am I not?”  Out of the corner of his eye, the Emperor watched Tzeentch discretely move another pawn.

“Enough of this bickering.  No one will be corrupting them,” He announced.  

“Indeed,” remarked Deus.  “Now, my move.”  A misty red planet came in front of him, and he moved a white orb from one place to another.  “This shall ensure that.”  Deus smiled.  “No corruption today, I’m afraid.  They are already earmarked as our champions.”  He looked over to Q.  

“Shall I touch yours?  Just in case?”  

“Eh.  Why not.  Can’t hurt,” replied Q.  

“And yours, Revelation?” Deus asked of the Emperor. 

“No,” replied the Emperor.  “He is already marked by me.  No other power shall touch him.”  The gods of humanity made their move.  

I will be out with the direct sequel to “The Misty Planet” ASAP.  As always, if you have any questions, comments, concerns, criticisms, or requests, feel free to ask!

[quietkatie1864]

A Perfect Day

Summary: After an argument with the Doctor, the reader is meets a familiar face.

10th Doctor x reader, 12th Doctor x reader

Hot, angry tears slid down Y/N’s face as she watched the TARDIS vanish from her sight in a slow blinking haze. She stood there for several moments contemplating the fight she and the Doctor had just endured. There had been screaming, cold heartless stares, and horrible insults that they will both later regret.

But right now she had a right to be angry. Angry and absolutely devastated.

The Doctor, Martha, and Y/N had been visiting a new planet. The most beautiful planet Y/N had seen. Everything had been so green and full of life. Even the inhabitants of the planet had been green. “Like proper aliens,” Martha had joked. The only other color came from the trees. The trunks of the trees were a mixture of deep violet and bright blue, woven together and branching off hundreds of feet above the ground, sprouting the most delicate looking leaves that stayed bright green year round.

Y/N had wander off on her own after a while. She and the Doctor were friendly, but they were not quite friends yet. Y/N began traveling with the Doctor because of Rose. She and Rose has been best friends since they were kids. Wherever one went, the other followed. The Doctor had tolerated Y/N because Rose loves her, but now that Rose was gone the Doctor was stuck with her. At least that’s what Y/N believed.

While on her own, Y/N met a family who accepted Y/N and her human quirks warmly and taught her about their planet and culture. It seemed like this was going to be a good trip. No running required.

Things took a turn when Y/N was investigating town’s shops with the families youngest daughter. Suddenly the sky darkened and everyone seemed to stop in their tracks. Listening, waiting to see what happened next. Then the creatures with guns started dropping out of the sky.

These creatures began to take out the people around Y/N one by one and, since this planet had been a peaceful one that had never experienced war, they had no defense. So Y/N took the little girl’s hand and ran towards the only place she knew they would be safe: the TARDIS.

The Doctor was waiting by the TARDIS by the time Y/N got there.

The Doctor grabbed her hand and began to drag her to the TARDIS doors. “Idiot,” he was muttering to himself, “always check the dates. Should’ve checked, should’ve known.” Y/N stopped and the Doctor finally turned his full attention to her “We have to go. Now!”

Y/N looked down at the girl who was still clingy to her arm. “No we can’t just leave. They’re defenseless. They need our help.”

Some emotion that Y/N couldn’t register crossed the Doctors eyes for a split second. Looking back now she believed the look at been pity. “We will. We’ll come back. We have to make a plan. Somewhere safe.” He bent down so that he was eye level with the little girl. “See that big building over there,” he said pointing to a building that several others were running towards. “Run there. You’ll be safe until we come back.” The little girl looked up at Y/N, who smiled and nodded, encouraging her to let go of her hand and run. The second the girl dropped Y/N’s hand the Doctor was tugging Y/N through the TARDIS doors.

“So what’s the plan?” Y/N asked while the Doctor fiddle with the control panel.

“There is no plan,” the Doctor replied shortly.

Y/N stared at him incredulously, even though he refused to look at her. “What do you mean there’s no plan? You always have a plan”

“Not this time,”

This is when the screaming and insults began flying. The Doctor tried to explain to Y/N that what was happening on that planet was set in time and that not even he could save it from its inevitable destruction, but Y/N wouldn’t listen. She called him a coward, a liar, a murderer. In turn, the Doctor called Y/N a child who understood nothing. Then out of anger, and likely the feelings of frustration and betrayal, the Doctor had landed in the present day, in some small town, and told Y/N to leave. And Y/N was so angry and hurt she did just that.

Now she stood alone on an empty street, with no sign of the Doctor.

“Are you alright?” A voice called out behind her.

Hearing this man’s footsteps striding closer to her, Y/N quickly tried to wipe the tears from her face. She didn’t need attention from a stranger. “I’m fine,” she called back, not turning to look at him.

“No you’re not,” the man replied.

Y/N spun around to tell this strange man to mind his own business but the retort soon died on her lips. The man before her seemed so…familiar, but she couldn’t figure out why. The man’s face was slightly withered and his greying hair stuck out from his head in odd directions. But it was the eyes that Y/N recognized. These eyes, which seemed to look much older than the rest of him, stared back at her, as if staring into her soul.

“Do I know you?” Y/N finally blurted out.

The man smiled sadly. “Yes and no,”

Y/N now understood why she knew those eyes. “Doctor?”

The man in front of her, the Doctor with a different face, nodded and held out his hand to her. “Let’s go for a walk, shall we?”

They walked silently through the empty street with the Doctor’s hand gripping Y/N’s lightly. She glanced up at him. “Not much of a hand holder anymore, eh?”

The Doctor cracked a small smile. “Not anymore. At least not usually. I’ll make an exception for you, though.”

The two stayed silent until they reached a seemingly abandoned park. The Doctor led Y/N to a bench and sat down. Y/N followed suit. They both stared out into the empty park before either of them spoke.

“Why do you look so sad?” Y/N inquired.

The Doctor scoffed. “Me? Sad? You’re the one who was crying,”

“I’m no sad I’m angry,” Y/N replied hotly. “But you know that don’t you? I mean, you were there. Is that why you’re here? Did it take you this long to realize that you were wrong?” She said gesturing to the Doctor’s new appearance.

“I wasn’t wrong,” Y/N opened her mouth in defense,but the Doctor held his hand up to stop her, “but I wasn’t right either. There are certain rules to time travel and certain instances in time that no one can change. I should’ve explained that to you better. I will do that, in fact. In about three hours.”

“Three hours?”

“Three hours for you. About five minutes for me. But I had to give you time to cool down. You tend to be exceptionally stubborn.” Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled slightly, knowing that she would be back in the TARDIS soon.

“You still didn’t answer my question. Why do you look so sad? And don’t lie I can see it in your eyes. And why are you here now? I’m assuming you didn’t regenerate I’m the five minutes you left me.” The Doctor refused to look at her and that’s when the realization hit Y/N. She grabbed the Doctor’s hand and forced him to look at her. “I died, didn’t I? Just now with you I died.”

Tears filled the Doctors eyes and he nodded. “I’m so sorry,”

“At least it was sudden. At least I’m guessing that the reason you’re here. You didn’t get to say goodbye.”

The Doctor ran a hand through his unruly hair before responding. “You were always too perceptive for you’re own good.” The Doctor hesitated. “You were so brave all the way up until the end. Every adventure we went on, no matter how terrifying or dangerous it was, you were right by my side. You never backed down. It’s one of the many reasons I fell in love with you.” Y/N eyes widened slightly and her grip on the Doctor’s hand tightened. She never would’ve imagined that the Doctor could have those kinds of feelings for her.

“It was like you knew you were getting close to the end,” the Doctor continued. “The day before you-the day before it happened, you gave me an absolutely perfect day. And I didn’t deserve it. But you do. You deserve one last, perfect day. And I plan on giving it to you.”

“One last perfect day,” Y/N smiled slightly. “Will this not screw up the space-time continuum or whatever?”

The Doctor smiled genuinely for the first time since he’d arrived. “I think we can risk it just this once. Whaddya say? Let me give you your perfect day?”

Despite the newfound knowledge of her impending death, Y/N grinned. “What are we waiting for?”

It truly was Y/N’s perfect day. Despite only knowing this Doctor for mere hours, Y/N felt as if she had known him her entire life. Their banter was easy, as if they’d been at if for years and the Doctor seemed to know Y/N next movements before she did. Neither of them were ready for the day to end when the TARDIS landed back in that town, right where the other Doctor had left Y/N.

“My last self should be in this exact location in about five minutes,” the Doctor said slowly walking Y/N through the front doors of the TARDIS.

“Can you tell me one thing?” Y/N asked. The Doctor nodded hesitantly. “How long do I travel with you? Roughly I mean. Obviously, I make it through at least one more generation.”

The Doctor was silent for several moments, contemplating the best way to answer the question. “Out of all of my companions, you stay with me the longest.”

“Good. At least we had a good run,” Y/N reached up and gave the Doctor  a kiss. Her first kiss with him and inevitably his last. “Goodbye, Doctor,”

“Goodbye, Y/N”

She watched the TARDIS disappear into the air. Seconds later another TARDIS appeared. Another Doctor, Y/N’s Doctor in the blue pinstriped suit appeared in the doorway with an outstretched hand. This hand was a peace offering, an apology, a new beginning for the both of them.

Y/N smiled and took the Doctor’s hand.