#but once I had the raven skulls and feathers in it all fell into place

[suaimhneas-gairid]

Vax'ildan 🗡️🗡️🗡️

[timelostobserver]

@cast-you-dxwn | “Lord, child. Let me look at you, what did they do to you?”

What had they done?

What hadn't they done...

Those were the questions that churned in Azrael's head. He was dizzy, disoriented from his Fall. His body was wrapped up in bandages, tended to by the Goetia. He was squinting, everything burned, everything hurt.. He'd lost so much of his golden blood that the avian demons tending to him were shocked he wasn't passed out.

Thus no doubt spoke of the fortitude of Angels, they weren't human after all. Something like blood-loss wouldn't take them down.

The fact they'd let anyone in the room at all was nothing short of a miracle. But it was on Paimon's orders.. rather for the staff to get OUT of the way of Lucifer's 'Knight' charging in.

Then again, it wasn't every day an angel fell, especially an Archangel.

Azrael's condition wasn't.. ideal, however. Sure they had bandaged him up, but there were glaring, open wounds on his back from where four of his six wings were torn out. Cuts that spoke of shattered glass scoured his body, arms and legs burnt from the fall, and a face that showed that he'd yet to stop crying...

He'd only just run out of tears left to shed.

He couldn't even look up at the one speaking to him, red eyes blurred with pain focused on the floor as his remaining pair of wings lay slumped at his sides. Burned of the raven black feathers they once sported, held together by a burning red membrane much like a bat. His halo.. gone, shattered upon impact, a crown of horns now instead took their place.

"Sera... she.." He barely managed to cough out. Azrael's voice was hoarse from his weeping.

"She kept.. she kept overruling me. S-she kept changing my verdicts.." Azrael's body shook.

"First Adam.. he w-was meant to go to Hell. But.. she said no." The newly Fallen Archangel crossed his arms, hands grasping into his bandaged forearms.

"T-then Abel.. poor sweet Abel.. She tried to say he did something t-to cause his murder.. Then Cain.." A hiccup.

"It kept happening. She kept.. she kept trying to do my job.. Th-the job I was made for." Everything he was. The very thing Father created to oversee the necessary evil of Creation.

Death.

An angel created to bring it upon the living, to keep balance in creation. To ensure life ended, and started anew. In a never-ending cycle. To act as the judge and jury of souls into the Afterlife.

"I.. I had enough. I was sick of her taking my work away from me.. I.. I bit her. I lashed out." On the table next to the newly fallen's bedside were two curious objects. A set of golden, radiant weighing scales.. and a black book with a golden skull and motifs.

"She attacked me, tore out four of my wings... cast me out in anger. I took my treasures with me... I wouldn't let her have them. Sh-she would abuse them. She would abuse the tools F-Father gave me." His voice petered out into a whimper at this point, Paimon looking on from the door-frame.

'.. Says his name is 'Azrael'...' He spoke quietly, mainly for Michael's ears. 'The rumored 'Angel of Death'. To think Sera would stoop as low to cast out Death itself from Heaven.'

[witches-and-weirdos]

Zinnya: Pre-Campaign Backstory

A human father and an elven mother rushed to the great old faery ring in the forest’s depths, the one beyond that single overgrown gate made of trees and vines growing together, the one that stood there for longer than humans walked this land, and the one that never knew the sun’s brightness or warmth from the crooked trees and the dark mist that never seized to surround it. The pair carried their child, a small girl that barely breathed. Her skin paling to gray, her voice silent, the body grew cold in the moonlit night as her mother’s tears dropped on her forehead.

“Here! It’s here, it must be!” The father crushed a path into the treacherous flora. “It must be! She said to follow the ravens, they are everywhere here!”

Laughing shades moved between the woods circling them, wolves howled and hundreds of black ravens sat perched on the branches. They cawed and stared at the pair, and only flew up when already behind them. At last, the two arrived to a grand circle of ancient stones, black mushrooms and cold mist.

“Lord of the woods, please hear us, we beg you! Save our child!” He shouted as hard as he could, still struggling for air.

“Please, we know there’s a price, we will do anything!” The woman caught up. Her child cold from the journey, perhaps from worse. She didn’t breathe.

The two begged, offering anything they could think of, and only stopped when all the ravens flew up at once around the ring and began circling above the middle as bones, wood, grass and soil animated to coalesce into the body of a single tall entity. The head was a stag’s skull with grand antlers, a cloak made of feathers and moss and from below it long arms of bones and twisted branches moved. The ravens fell silent and perched on the branches and stones.

The creature opened its long monstrous fingers and sounded a deep voice made of harsh wind and twisting wood. “Come. Give her to me.”

The pair approached and carefully placed their child in its palm. It brought her to its bark-chest and stared at her. “What I give now, will one day return to me.” It touched one long finger to her forehead with a small greenish light flaring up as the ravens cawed and flapped restlessly for a moment. The child drew one breath. She coughed, then breathed and cried. Her parents teared with joy and thanked to no end, but the being spoke again.

“When she turns five and onward, she will return here at each solstice and equinox and remain in my care for 3 of your mortal days, and when she turns 18, she will come back to you no more, for with the life I gave, she will serve my will.”

The parents nodded silently as they processed it and made sure to remember, then they began to thank again, endlessly grateful. A single raven then came and perched on the entity’s shoulder, eyes violet with a same-colored scar over it one.

“This one is yours to look for.” The Lord told it. “Now lead them back to their home.”

And so the family returned, following the violet-eyed raven, which lead them through paths and ways they were sure to not have traveled to get here, but eventually, the gate was passed through again, and from there they saw their tracks.

The girl’s color never returned fully, but she had good health and showed no ill signs of the pact’s effects. She was a happy, fun-loving child with a taste of tricks and mischief, and with her parents being glad that she was even alive, she could get away with most things. The strange raven never left the area either, he was often found to play with her or watch over her while others weren’t. Eventually the year came, signified by painful bulgings on her head and nails that could harm wood, the marks of the Wild, old sage Radmila said, nothing to worry about. On her fifth Fall equinox, Zinnya was brought back to the Faery ring, her parents lead by the raven she now called Svalek. For 3 mortal days she stayed there, as was agreed, but how long it was in the Lord’s realm, she couldn’t tell. The time was passed with getting to know her savior and soon master, and his strange fey servants. Friends, as little Zinnya would understand.

She returned to the village with her horns already poking out, happy about her journey, but insisting that she was not allowed to say any details.

And so they raised her, with perfect accordance to the pact, each solstice and each equinox she went and returned, never speaking of it more than a general description. “I met some new friends and we played a lot!” “They taught me some things, very secret, but it was very interesting!” “Look what I got! A tattoo! They said I should practice moving it! See?” “They taught me their language! I love learning new languages!” And so on and so forth, there would soon be no doubt that even at home, even by the raven, she was being prepared to use magic and trained to keep secrets. Soon enough she was caught doing mischief with simple illusion spells and by 10 she could command the broom to clean her room for her. In her main time, she learned, sometimes bringing home runes etched in stones or scrolls with obscure symbols and Aklo writing on them, and should she ever understand them before time came to go back, Svalek always brought her new ones. In the rest of her time, she crafted things, which would become her job in the village, making tools and fixing things, and to create ornate objects.

When her 18th year came, they made their goodbyes. She explained that she wasn’t forbidden to return, she just needed to travel to distant places, and that she made the Lord of Ravens promise that if she’s doing well there would be a chance to meet them again. And with that and a final hug, she set off to her journey.

[ragingbookdragon]

Of Nights So Hollow, Of Legends So Great

Night Culture AU!Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 1.8K Warnings: Angst, Uh..Scary? I guess?

Author's Note: This is based on the wonderful @bunnvoid Night Culture AU and I felt compelled to write this at midnight because I couldn't stop thinking about it. Bunn, I hope I did your ideas justice! Honestly, I keep going back and forth between the drawings to make sure! I had fun writing it! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

It was said that at the heart of every legend there was a grain of truth. Legends are just pieces of history fabricated beyond wildest belief, built upon by centuries of retelling, each story sewing a new thread into the tapestry from whence it came. But that’s all that legends are. Threads twined together, woven greater and farther than the original fable.

***

The old castle was a legend. Perhaps not the castle itself, but what supposedly resided inside. Supernatural creatures that skirted down cobblestone alleys and between taverns, seeking out fresh blood in the night. That was one form of the legend, if you believed it. The other form was that of creatures who skirted down cobblestone alleys and between taverns, seeking out evil and destroying it where it plagued innocence.

The chateau lied in the midst of the Devilwood Wilds, just outside the City of Old Gotham. Even during the days when the sun would peek through the gray clouds, it appeared gloomy, blackened stone walls, charred shingles and shutters. The giant Devilwood and Shadow trees prevented sight of the doors of the castle; only the top could be seen, to get the real view, one would’ve had to go into the forest. There was another legend: the horrors of the Wilds.

Whispers on the school-grounds told of a creature, big and terrifying that could be summoned with ritual stones and fresh bat blood; those that summon the beast are never seen again. The adults were less convinced of the idea, though they still forbid their children from reaching even the edges of the forested area. Whilst they believed those that went in were never heard from again, it wasn’t from a creature eating them, but a lack of guidance. Starvation. Wild animals. The freezing fog that made your breath turn to frost.

Timothy remembers hearing those whispers when he passed the old schoolhouse. His mother and father didn’t let him interact with the common children, instead his lessons were taught by private tutors from the wealthiest lands, paid for with the Drake treasure of gold and gemstones.

What more so Timothy remembered was the inhuman being that appeared in his father’s manor, striking down his mother with a slash of black magic, his father following. He remembers the way his father’s eyes rolled back in his skull, fear spreading through his body as he hid in the corner of the room, whimpering and crying. And he most certainly remembered the cold hand of the demon sliding between his shoulder blades before it dug into his skin, piercing his flesh, laughing as he cried out in pain as pricks spread out along his back and down his arms.

Warmth bled down his back as black feathers pushed from his skin and Timothy panted as his fingernails grew in length, sharpening as they darkened. He remembered scrambling to his feet, darting away from the creature as he ran. Forgetting the corpses of his family and staff around him, throwing the door open, bursting into the night, and sprinting down the street, leaving a trail of bloody, black feathers in the direction of the Devilwood Wilds.

***

The first night was the least remembered but the darkest. Violent and corrupting nightmares slithering inside his head as he tossed and turned along the frigid ground in a feverish deathlike state, the wings at his back only growing in size.

The second night was less nightmare-ridden, but much more painful. Timothy had pierced a wing on a stray Devilwood tree, the syrup like poison only infecting the wound. He was hungry and cold. Exhausted and scared. He tried to remember all the books he read as a child of the knights facing the elements for a week in order to ascend knighthood; he couldn’t seem to recall a thing.

The third night seemed to be his last. He lay huddled up against a raised Shadow tree root, the ebony wood providing stability for his wounded wing. Timothy sniffled, dragging his knees to his chest as he lay his chin on his arms, ignoring the grumbling of his stomach as it ate itself in hunger.

A tree branch creaked above him, and he craned his neck up, eyes widening when he saw the glowing eyes of the masked creature. The legends were right. The creature’s head twisted sideways, reminding Timothy of an owl, then the other way, like it was observing him. It made a noise and he scrambled to the floor of the forest, curling his injured wing above his head and over his body to protect himself.

THUNK!

Timothy whimpered, ready to be torn to shreds, but when no vicious claws or snapping teeth came at him, he carefully peered between his open wing. There lie a satchel, as long as his forearm and as wide as his middle was. He looked up towards the tree branch to where the creature had sat, but there was nothing there anymore; he glanced around, it wasn’t in sight.

He blinked and shuffled towards the satchel, untying the drawstrings with fumbling clawed hands. Inside lay a pair of thick wool socks, a small blanket, and another small bag. Timothy pulled it from the satchel and opened it; half a loaf of bread and a chunk of meat the size of his hand were stowed inside.

Timothy forewent the etiquette he was taught as a child, giving into his ravenous desire as he devoured the meat. It was tender and juicy, the glaze a mixture of honey and cinnamon.

A memory flowed to his mind, the dinner after the rising of the first star, his family and staff all surrounding the dining table, a divine feast laid before them. The smiling faces of his mother and father stilled his hunger and he placed the food back in the satchel, uncurling the wool blanket. Timothy lay underneath the raised Shadow tree roots, one wing curled around him, and he fell into a restless sleep with tears frozen on his cheeks.

***

When he awoke the next morning, his wing was no longer torn and infected. A new feather had appeared where the wound had been. Timothy wanted to learn to fly. He’d owned a bird once. A Ruby Firebird, with long, crimson-colored feathers and big ruby eyes. It had been his only real friend and he’d watched it a lot. It couldn’t be that hard.

He stretched his wings out, unable to fight the urge to touch them with a single black claw. It tingled. Timothy blinked and beat them, unsure. He beat them again, this time a little harder, keeping at it until with each beat he was able to blow the long grass flat against the ground. A giddy smile came across his lips when the tips of his toes grazed the ground.

What he had not counted on was how tired he was going to get after only a few brief minutes of trying. His wings felt sore. Timothy would try again tomorrow to rise above the tall grass.

***

The creature would appear at odd times during the night and Timothy had stopped feeling the cold fear in his gut when it did. It never came near him; it just watched with the cocked head, back and forth, then would drop the satchel again and disappear. Sometimes there were scribbles inside. He didn’t know what they meant; but he knew the language. Thaatisgani. An old language his writing teacher had shown him one day. A language long died out amongst the common and even the elite folk.

Timothy wanted to know what it meant. He wanted to know what the creature was. His determination drew him to the front of the castle during the night of the harshest season storm. Lighting crackled across the sky, the thunder rolled along the clouds and the rain came down in torrents. He was freezing and soaked to the bone and the weight of his wings had him crawling up the steps, collapsing at the door.

He weakly raised a clawed hand, one nail scratching the black glazed door and he descended into darkness.

***

His mother liked to wear scented oils. They smelled of Queen’s Briar and Golden Belladonna. Before he was older, she used to let Timothy sit beside her when she would apply them to her wrist and ears. She would smile at him and tell him stories of far away lands.

Warmth spread across his eyes, and he rolled over in what he thought was his dream, only to roll onto the ground, landing awkwardly on his wings. Timothy whined and unfolded himself off the ground, rubbing his eyes, only to see the creature a hair’s breadth away from his face.

Timothy choked on his fear and scrambled away, only for the creature to grab his shoulder.

“Stay.”

He halted, looking back at it. “You speak the common tongue?”

The creature stared at him. “You are Timothy Drake. Son of Earl Drake.”

“I am,” Timothy responded, then looked at his hands. “But my family is…is dead.”

“Killed by a slithering demon from the Farstead realm.”

Tears prickled Timothy’s vision. “It killed my parents and cursed me.” He looked at the creature. “I’m a monster.”

“You’re cursed to believe what you think you are.” The creature waved a glowing hand and Timothy blinked in shock as the wings disappeared and his hands turned to normal. “It’s merely an illusion. You’ve only been tainted with cursed magic.”

It was much too complicated for Timothy to pull apart now. “Can I be healed?”

The creature blinked its glowing obs. “Cursed magic cannot be healed…but it can be trained.” They leaned forward, getting in his face. “I can teach you to control and transform.”

“You’re not going to eat me?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“…Yes.”

“You hesitated just a bit right there.”

A bottle rolled out from the corner of the room and the creature sighed, turning its head to it. “Richard. Jason. Come here.”

Two young boys, not that much older than Timothy appeared from behind a corner, guilty looks on their faces as though they’d been caught eavesdropping.

The creature nodded to Timothy. “Take him upstairs. He is dirty and tired.”

The tallest one, Jason, crossed his arms over his chest. “Just like that, Bruce? You’re going to take the witch boy in?”

“Pot-kettle,” Richard coughed, smiling when Jason elbowed him.

The creature, now known as Bruce, sighed. “Take the boy. He is tired.”

Jason and Richard obeyed, each hauling Timothy up under the armpits, leading him to a dimly lit staircase.

“Are you two going to eat me?”

“Yes,” Jason replied without hesitation.

“Jason!” Richard barked. “Stop.” He looked down at Timothy. “We’re not going to eat you Timothy…we’re going to help you. And that includes having a warm bed to sleep in and hot food to eat.”

Tears once again gathered in Timothy’s eyes, and he lowered his head as he sniffled. For once since that night, he felt safe.

These were the legends that prowled the city streets. They were supposed to be vicious and dark, evil and bloodthirsty, not ribbing and warm.

But then again, what are legends, but threads twined together, woven greater and farther than the original fable?

[the-dragons-knight]

FFXIV Write 2021

Prompt #10 - Heart Beat

<Post-Heavensward MSQ, but no major spoilers>

Heady - ‘having a strong or exhilarating effect’

————————————————————

Katsum hardly even noticed the cold as she fiddled nervously with her chakrams as she peeked around the edge of the tall curtains that hid the dancers from the eyes of the gathered crowd. She recognized many of the faces she saw amongst them. She saw Hilda and people of the Brume and the Watch, and the orphaned children who were talking and laughing together. The counts of the four noble houses were gathered as well; in fact all of House Fortemps was in attendance. Even Vidolfnir and a few of the young dragonets from Anyx Trine had come, the great white dragon laying back behind the crowd a ways where she was talking with Lucia and Maelie, the young dragonets fluttering curiously above her while they chattered excitedly to be in a city of man. While seeing these familiar faces certainly did not help ease her worry, the true culprit of her anxiety was the raven-haired commander that was having a deep conversation with a few of the temple knights; Aymeric de Borel.

Her cat-like sapphire eyes traced the contours of his profile, watching his lips move and his eyes alight as he gestured towards the two knights and they smiled and nodded. The snow flakes in his raven black hair did not go unnoticed either, the bits of ice forming a halo. He looked ethereal, like a handsome prince, and it brought the warmth to her face still to know that he had chosen her. The way her heart melted when they were together was still so strange to her, but the way it had fluttered that night and through that first kiss, she’d never forget it. The only issue is that now she would feel so shy sometimes around him, and she worried about what impression that gave people having only seen her be the stoic and serious knightess of light.

“So…are you going to go and talk to him, or do I need to do it for you?” Katsum jumped at the voice that came from behind her, her tail fluffing up as she turned to see Ranaa standing there, a wide-eyed look on her face before she giggled, “My goodness, I’ve never seen you caught off guard, Katsum. Are you alright?”

Katsum sighed and tried to compose herself and wipe the warmth from her cheeks as she found it hard to meet her gaze, “Yes. I’m alright. Just…seeing how many people had gathered.”

“Aaaaaand looking for a certain someone, yeah? Who is he?” She winked at Katsum before slowly backing off, “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”

Katsum felt her ears lift from her skull as she realized she’d been glaring, her features softening as she reached out towards Ranaa, “No, no, I’m…I’m sorry Ranaa. I'm not used to my thoughts showing so freely. It's very strange to me.”

Ranaa blinked, but nodded with a soft smile, “It’s because of that man, yes? He’s quite handsome, and very kind and noble from the conversations he is having.”

A breath of a smile graced Katsum’s lips as she nodded, “He is Aymeric de Borel, the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights and the leader of Ishgard itself…and he is indeed a very noble and chivalrous knight.”

“Aw, and he’s caught your eye, I see! Well, my question still stands, do you need me to introduce you?”

“N-n-no, we are already well acquainted I…” She sighed before she spoke seriously, “He and I know each other very well, I assure you. I just…get nervous around him sometimes lately.” No one knew they were seeing each other as they had decided to keep it secret until the excitement in Ishgard had settled so that no odd rumors could truly gain any traction. Still, it was hard to wear her emotionless mask around him as much anymore, and she could only guess what that meant.

“Probably on account of your feelings for him I’d guess, but that means this is the perfect chance to get his attention!” Ranaa excitedly bounced on her heels as her tail swished with her excitement, “You dance so beautifully and so gracefully there is no way he won’t notice! And as we are lifting their spirits and fighting against the shadows weighing down their souls, he surely won't be able to take his eyes off you!” She grinned and gestured to the Thavnarian style dress Katsum wore, “And with that exotic dress, who could resist looking at you~”

Katsum’s jaw dropped as her embarrassment returned, “Ranaa, please!”

The dark-skinned miqo’te giggled as she started stepping backwards, “Alright, we are ready to start whenever you are, yeah? You look amazing as always, Katsum, and you’ll be sure to chase any shadows with your dance.” She then turned and headed back to the other trope members.

The blonde miqo’te sighed and stood up straight, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath to steady herself and calm her nerves. Her feelings for him. The fluttering in her chest and the want to be around him and spending time with him.When put like that, it was little wonder it was hard to wear her ‘mask’ as it surely fell off every time her heart started beating out of her chest. There was a part of her deep down that was excited to dance for him too she realized, and so she tried to tap into that feeling as she turned and followed Ranaa so that the show could begin.

— — — — — — — — — —

“Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you all for coming!”

Katsum gripped her chakrams tightly as she listened to the trope member’s words, taking deep breaths to calm herself. Ranaa placed her hand on her shoulder and nodded with a smile, a quiet affirmation of ‘You got this’ to which Katsum smiled weakly back and nodded. Her heart was still beating loudly in her ears, but she focused on her breathing and then ran through the steps of the dance in her head.

And she planned to lock eyes with him the very moment she could.

“Without further ado, I give you…the dancers of Trope Falsiam!”

In unison, she and Ranaa moved into their starting poses as the curtain began to draw back. Katsum peered through her chakram where it covered most of her face, waiting impatiently to catch the ice blue gaze of the Lord Commander. As the curtain revealed them, the crowd erupted into applause, but the only thing Katsum saw was Aymeric’s widened eyes as he saw her. It scared her for a moment before she noticed the red dusting on his cheeks and she realized he was flustered slightly. That made her heart flutter in kind and spurred her feet forward.

The music began and the two dancers moved and spun to the beat, slow at first as they awaited the rest of the instruments to join the lute, ever moving further onto the stage as they did. Katsum kept her eyes locked with Aymeric as she spun on her foot and sliced through the air slowly with her chakram, willing her body to move more gracefully than she ever had before. He seemed to be locked into place, his eyes following her every move. She blushed lightly at the thought but she smiled warmly at him, which he returned.

The music picked up then and a new confidence burned in her breast as she quickened her steps and sliced through the air. The colored petals and feathers of light began to appear to the amazement of the crowd as she and Ranaa danced on opposite sides of the circle moving clockwise around it. And as the lights grew, the shadows began to take shape, the darkness slithering out of the peoples hearts and into the ring, gathering together into the forms of many-faced monsters. The people gasped at the sight of them but Ranaa and Katsum continued to dance to calm them. As the knightess drew near to one, the shadow hissed and reared back its clawed hand.

“Now, Raihogg.” Katsum whispered and her necklace glowed gently, a new red light of dragon scales appearing around her as she spun and threw her chakrams into the attacking shadow. Again it hissed and tried to advance, but she was far too quick, catching her weapons and throwing them again in quick succession to push it further back. She glanced over to Aymeric again, seeing his eyes brightly shining with amazement as the crowd around him cheered and she grinned and wound up her next step. Crouching low, she called for Raihogg’s strength again to brighten the glowing scales as she held her weapons close and ready for the jump. With a breath, she launched herself forward, spanning a few yalms in the blink of an eye and slicing through the shadow as she passed through it. The beast screamed before exploding into sparks and fading away.

Another scream echoed behind her and Katsum spun gracefully to see Ranaa taking down the other one at that same moment. She grinned confidently at Katsum and they returned to their dance, spinning and slicing the air as they danced the circle and moved towards each other in the center. When they finally reached it, they danced around one another for a moment before they turned back to back and froze their starting position once more facing the crowd, the beat of the music ending as they stopped. The crowd erupted in applause and cheers at their performance, the air about them all feeling much lighter now that the darkness had been vanquished. Katsum and Ranaa smiled at each other as she relaxed and bowed to the crowd with the rest of the troupe.

— — — — — — — — — —

Katsum bowed in thanks as the few temple knights waved their goodbyes and made their way back to their posts. She sighed contently, happy to know their spirits were a bit lighter this day without so much darkness whispering of all they’d lost in the war. It made her happy to know that a ‘simple’ dance was able to help them breathe a little clearer.

“Ah there you are,” She turned to meet the ice blue gaze of the raven-haired commander as he stepped up to her with a warm smile on his face, “I am glad to have caught you before you left. That was an amazing performance. I had no idea you were dancing!”

Katsum smiled shyly, twirling a strand of hair as her tail swished behind her bashfully, a shiver slightly shaking her for a second before she replied, “Thank you, and yes, I’ve been working with the troupe for a few months now and learning their dances. It was they who found me after a storm destroyed my boat as I was sailing away from my home, and they who found Soldier and brought him back to me. I’ve kept in touch ever since, and finally decided to learn the Dancer’s trade.”

He nodded, “I remember when they brought your horse to Camp Dragonhead, and might I say that you have certainly learned the trade well,” His eyes flitted down for a moment and she blushed as she realized he was trying his best not to stare at her exposed skin, “It was certainly a beautiful…and deadly dance.”

She shivered again as her ears dropped and she nodded, “T-Thank you.”

His smile faded as he noticed her shiver and quickly shed himself of his fur coat, “May I?”

She blinked in surprise but nodded, letting him move close and drape the coat over her shoulders. Katsum smiled and wrapped the furred coat around herself, happily breathing in his scent that lingered on it, “Thank you, Aymeric. I didn’t realize how cold I was.”

“Of course. Can’t have the Warrior of Light freezing after her most beautiful display of dance…” Aymeric swallowed thickly then, a bright blush dusting his cheeks as she noticed he was fidgeting and pulling down his royal-blue shirt collar slightly as his eyes darted back and forth from her own to where his coat hid her dress.

“Aymeric, are you…?”

“Yes, yes! Of course, I am just fine, I assure you…I would just like to say…you were stunning and I could scarcely take my eyes off of you, but I also would ask perhaps…could you wear a different dress for your dancing? While this one is…ravishing, it is rather…revealing if you understand my meaning.”

It took a moment for it to truly hit her what he had said, yet the moment it did, Katsum’s ears stood up as her tail fluffed and a deep red blush covered her face. Becoming far more subconscious than she had been, she wrapped the coat around her more tightly, hiding her burning face against the furs of the collar.

She nodded as her entire body burned from embarrassment, “I-I’ll uh…see what I can do…but i’ll also hang on to this one…in case I ever…need it…”

Now it was his turn to blush darkly and they both thanked the heavens no one around to see, “Right! As you should. Never uh…never know.”

She nodded as she coughed and shook her head to clear her mind, and brought up another topic to speak on which he was most gracious for and soon the moment of embarrassment had passed. From afar, Ranaa watched out of the corner of her eye while she was speaking to some of the audience members and smiled seeing them, happy to see that someone was helping Katsum find the parts of herself that lay hidden under her stoic mask.

[crystalgirl259]

The Flame and the Dragon Chapter 23

Chapter 23: The Temptations Of Hope

Cole angrily paced around his room as the clock struck twelve. The only lights in the room were the moonlight reflecting off the untouched, white snow and the purple flame coming from the now almost completely melted red candle. His instincts warned him not to feel for Kai. Life was so much simpler before he came along, before Cole and the others dared to hope. Cole sighed tiredly as he slumped into a torn-up armchair. He had thought Kai was the one.

He didn't know why he continued to torment himself.

His eyes fell on the candle and an enraged growl bubbled in his throat. That was the symbol of his curse, and it needed to be destroyed and end these adolescent notions of love and redemption. It would end all of his pain forever. Cole growled and raised his arm to smash the weakening flame. Just as he was about to destroy it, a couple of cinders flew from the flame. Cole watched as it landed next to the gift, which Kai left for Cole next to the bed.

The prince's eyes widened in shock, recognizing the small, nice handwriting on the gift's little label.

The hybrid carefully picked up the lovely wrapped gift as if it was made of glass. He quickly ripped off the wrapping paper and was surprised to see it was a book Kai had written just for him. Without really thinking about it, Cole sat back down and started reading the story Kai had made. The incredibly detailed story inside talked about an enchanted castle and how the master seemed as cold as winter. His cries echoed through the stone wall of the castle, and though he was surrounded by servants, he was all alone.

It went on to say that thanks to that simple act of kindness, he knew someone cared.

Even though he didn't read much, even before he was cursed, Cole knew this was an amazing story. It ends it all off, Kai wrote about how that time of year was spent exchanging humble gifts, but the greatest gift that anyone received was the gift of hope. As Cole finished the book and put it down, he contemplated what the book meant by hope. Once he had hope that was hope to break the spell. But as the years passed, that hope had started to fade until it was almost nonexistent.

That is until Kai suddenly forced his way into his life and that hope burned brightly for the first time since he was first cursed.

Then Kai tried to leave the castle, despite his promise, and almost drowned in a freezing lake. It wasn't just the fact that Kai left, but also that he almost lost his life again because Cole wasn't there to protect him. Despite his anger, Cole still loved and cared deeply for Kai. He didn't want to see the teen get hurt and if that meant he had to lock Kai in a cell then so be it. It was probably the safest place for Kai since Cole was certain that he had just blown any chance with the brunette and any hope of breaking this curse.

As soon as that thought entered his mind, however, his mother's voices echoed through his very soul.

She used to say that regardless of how desperate things may seem, remember, people could always have hope. All of a sudden, Cole realized his idiocy and what he had done to Kai in his blinding anger. He promised himself there and then that he would do his best job to find the perfect way to beg for Kai's forgiveness if the begging wasn't enough in itself. He knew it was going to be hard, but he was ready for that. With that in mind, Cole stood up from his chair and bolted out of the room towards the dungeons.

He failed to see the enraged shadow made of dark magic scowling at his retreating form.

This was not part of his plan...

****************

He growled in rage as he watched the dragon prince flee to attempt to make up with Kai through his purple crystal ball. Despite all Cole had done, he knew that the brunette loved the hybrid and would forgive him. The man snarled as he ran his hand through his raven hair, pacing around as he tried to find a way to stop this from happening. He stared out of the small, empty window of his hideout in the ghost town of Kilmarnock hundreds of miles from any civilization.

What was once a wide avenue that led to Kilmarnock was unrecognizable as nature had begun reclaiming the now unused area.

The crisp and clean-looking town now looked more like a jungle as trees and gardens grew beyond their now unkempt boundaries. Many doors had collapsed as the rot was eating away their edges. The open doorways that were once perhaps very welcoming were now an eerie and unwelcoming sight. Broken cars and rusty pieces of metal littered some of the larger driveways, stripped from all but their most useless parts. Kilmarnock, once rich with life, hopes, dreams, and aspirations was now partially reclaimed by nature.

The sounds of insects, winds, and creaking wood of trees which were once drowned out by the sounds of people had returned as the dominant sounds once more.

The clock tower was somehow still rich with sounds, but it wasn't its bells and gears as those had stopped working a long time ago. It was a flock of crows that had made this once great pillar their new home. No matter how you looked at it this town was an eerie sight to behold. Lives forgotten, perhaps completely ruined and there was barely anything to show for it. But even though everything may seem like it was lost forever there was still a silver lining.

While this town was no longer home to the families that lived here, it was now home to families of wild animals.

The enchanted candle would flicker out any day now, and Kai had yet to proclaim his love for Cole. He couldn't afford for Cole to suddenly find the key to ending his curse and everyone's suffering. He saw red as he thought about what this could mean for his revenge when Kai and Cole made things up and confessed their love for each other. The prince got the one he loves and his curse would be broken, and then it was a happy ending for everyone.

The enchantment will be lifted, and that stuck-up brat and his family's suffering would fade into the background.

He refused to let them get off that easily. He used his magic to set the cauldron bubbling and boiling and opened his spellbook. He flipped through a dozen pages until he finally found exactly what he was looking for. He ran around his hovel, searching for the needed ingredients. These included red and white rose petals, pearly white swan and dove feathers, maple leaves, and a bright red apple. He threw them all into the black cauldron and the liquid inside turned a stunning crimson red.

"I call the darkness unto me, from deepest depths of earth and sea, from ancient evils unawoken, break that what can not be broken." He chanted loudly before grabbing another set of ingredients. These included a dead raven, a red poppy, blood of a black cat, and a human skull. "To blackest night I pledge my soul I crush my heart to burning coal, to summon forth a deathly power, to see my hatred foe devoured!" He bellowed and suddenly a blast of black smoke shot out of the cauldron.

It filled the room in a matter of seconds before it shot out the window like a bolt of lighting.

He cackled loudly as he watched the dark magic travel straight to Cole's castle, standing out against the white fluffy clouds like blood on a white wedding dress. They couldn't fall in love if they were dead...

[svankmajerbaby]

i was tagged by @punkenglishnerd - thank you very much, and i’m sorry for being so late!!!

🎃 Pumpkin: Favourite season? spring, because it’s my birthday... and usually the first days of spring are rainy, but then it’s sunny and not very hot yet, so i can dress in layers but i can still bask in the sunshine. i really like autumn too, because while at first it’s too hot to do anything, when it starts to cool down it’s a delight

👻 Ghost: Do you get scared easily? it really depends... for some reason gore doesn’t faze me much, and i’ve become kind of desensitized to a lot of typical horror stuff. but i’m terrified of r*pe scenes, they leave me very nervous and in general a lot of realistic horror, like abuse, torture and the like, gets me very anxious and stressed... i don’t know if i’d call that fear exactly, but if it does, then yeah, i’m a scaredy cat :^/

🎃 Candy Corn: What’s your favourite kind of candy? dark chocolate!! i love really bitter chocolate, or chocolate covered peanuts -that’s what i used to ask for when i went out with my family to the cinema

👻 Vampire: What is your favourite supernatural creature? any sort of manmade creature!!! i really like automata, frankenstein monsters, golems, creepy dolls... but i also love the concept and the symbolism of ghosts and haunted houses......

🎃 Witch: If you could have any superpower, what would it be? i really don’t know... there’s so much i’d like to do... i’d love to be able to speak any language, but i think it’s not really a superpower? since this is halloween themed, i’d have to say telekinesis (matilda was one of my favorite childhood books) and being able to shrink. i’d love to be small as a mouse and wander around the house

👻 Trick or treat: What was your favourite Halloween costume? i dressed as a witch several times!! we don’t celebrate halloween here in argentina, but still there were some birthdays or club parties which were kind of a replacement halloween celebration?? once i went as candy-skull-frida kahlo, and i still think that was my most complex costume... but i really loved dressing up as a witch when i was little, with my green and black striped socks and my witch hat and my long sleeved black top >:^)

🎃 Black cat: Are you superstitious? nah

👻 Ouija Board: If you could change your name, what would you change it to? i used to hate my name casandra, because everyone was called camila or martina or daniela or more “normal” names, and i thought mine was weird... but i still wanted to stand out, so i pretended my second name was miranda, for some reason?? and for some time i was convinced i should change my name to miranda. but after a few years ive grown to like my name, even if i think it does sound kinda pretentious (my parents gave it to me, so its not my fault!!). i’ve also grown to like the other name they would have given me, bruna, which at first i hated but now i kinda love?? maybe i’d change it to that. but i like my name, currently

🎃 Graveyard: Do you know any good scary stories? hmmm the only one that’s like, a scary story, is one i was obsessed with, that was in a book at my school library -i think it’s pretty well known -about the girl with the green ribbon tied around her neck, who has a boyfriend that asks her why she wears it, and she doesn’t say, until she’s in her deathbed and she tells him he can take her ribbon off and he does and the girl’s head falls off. that story lived in my head 24/7, along with actual short stories like the black cat, the telltale heart, the oval portrait, the masque of the red death... i considered metamorphosis by franz kafka a horror story, too, so i guess i’ll add it here. oh, i know!!!!!! one that i think a lot of people don’t know about. the feather pillow, by horacio quiroga. a young couple move to the countryside, and while the husband is away at work, the woman stay at home all the time. the woman falls ill, and the doctor tells her to stay in bed and rest. she gets worse and worse, and withers away. her husband worries but doesn’t know what is going on. the woman finally dies, and when the maid is about to clean the sheets, she notices that the pillow is extremely heavy. and then -she and the husband and the doctor realize -there was a tick, a blood-sucking bug inside the pillow, a typical goose tick that, when given time, can drain a whole person of all their blood it’s better the way the author wrote it, i think i’m selling it short

👻 Skeleton: Have you ever broken a bone? no, i never did anything that could lead to that {:^) when i was younger i climbed trees and played in parks and stuff, but i never played any sports that could make me break a bone... i did break my knee or something?? i can’t remember, but my knee was sort of displaced during a school camping trip in which i got out of the shower and slipped badly

🎃 Werewolf: What is your favourite urban legend? oooooo there’s a bunch from the local high-class cemetery, the Recoleta Cemetery (though i can’t remember any of them very well), where there’s a lot of great urban legends, most of them from the nineteenth or early twentieth century, like one of two star crossed lovers -a young woman who fell for a french soldier visiting argentina -and when he died in the battlefield, she died as well and haunts her grave ever since... or, well, the famous ones like whatever happened to evita’s corpse, which is kind of squicky but still sort of morbidly fascinating??

👻 Horror flick: Do you like scary movies? Boy Do I. i love frankenstein (1931), crimson peak (2015), corpse bride (2005), blood tea and red string (2006), cat people (1942), abominable dr phibes (1970), gaslight (1944), institute benjamenta (1995), little otik (2000), little shop of horrors (1986), picnic at hanging rock (1975), carrie (2013), a girl walks home alone at night (2014), the magic toyshop (1987), faust (1926), mildred pierce (1945), the devil’s backbone (2001), sleepy hollow (1999), the raven (1963), the fly (1958), cronos (1993), the man who laughs (1928), the babadook (2014), whatever happened to baby jane (1962), the cabinet of dr caligari (1920), aaaaand.... the night of the hunter (1955)

🎃 Haunted house: Would you prefer to live in the city or the country? city all the way. i need cinemas, and libraries, and theaters!!!!

👻 Zombie: Do you think that you could survive a zombie apocalypse? oh, no... i’d probably try to kill myself so i can keep myself from being bitten and hurting other people

🎃 Cauldron: What kind of potion would you make if you had the opportunity? some sort of health potion? i wish people didn’t die of perfectly preventable or curable diseases...

👻 Full moon: Do you prefer nighttime or daytime? daytime, particularly the afternoon

🎃 Corn maze:  What is your favourite autumn activity? eating, basically; last autumn i spent it baking, i think. i can’t remember, by this point... we don’t have any particular ��autumn traditions”, i think...

👻 Broomstick: What exciting places have you travelled to? i really enjoyed istanbul, with all the cats and the beautiful architecture, i’d like to go back ;_; but i also loved prague a lot, we went in winter and it was all snowy and lit at night and it was such a beautiful place... portugal was a surprise, i liked it a lot more than i expected!!! i miss edinburgh a lot, too, even if it’s a bit too stuffy for me, i still liked it.... and berlin, i think i was in berlin for too short a time. i loved the cinema museum so much, and everyone was so nice, and the city has so much fascinating history... and i also miss athens -again, i was surprised, and i spent very little time there, but everything, the ruins, the modern city, the people, everything was gorgeous and wonderful... and dublin!!!!! dublin was amazing!! i’ve travelled a lot. i want to keep travelling. this year my family and i were supposed to go to russia, and i’m still kinda eager to go.

thank you so much for tagging me!!!!!! and sorry again for taking so long... i’m tagging (only if you want to do it!) @saumenschliesel, @flowerb-0y, @jacobaco, @majorabbey, @thatqueerweirdo, @sbongebob, @buffoello, and whoever else would like to do it!! i really enjoyed answering these asks :^)

[nukyster-blog]

Changing course chapter 9) Caretaker

.-.-.

There was one raven in the middle of the cobblestoned centre and it was looking directly at him, its patient eyes blinked. Once, twice, drilling it’s beady eyes into Ivar’s. Opening its beak, the bird let out a throaty kraa call before taking off flying far, far away.

‘Valhala,’ was Ivar’s first conscious thought. Like the first time when he feared drowning, his father coached him through it. 

‘He did not abandon me,’ Ivar thought as he coughed up the content of his lungs. As a newborn, he drew his first breath; deep and shuddering. His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, his mind clear as daylight; his father had been the reason he’d survived yet another one of the Giant’s retributions.

Ivar was brought back to the shed by his feet. His back dragged over all the cobblestones, through the mud and over the hay covered floor. Somewhere in between the cobblestones and the hay, the last fibers of his shirt gave in, leaving half his back uncovered and scraped raw. 

Once dropped to the floor, Ivar did not bother getting up. Instead he rolled on his side. Extracting his arm, ever so gently he peeled off the mud caked layer of his shirt from his battered upper back. The abrasions should be cleaned and looked at to prevent infection and scarring, but Ivar was wiser then to ask for aid. Instead he lay motionless, soaked and numb on the floor, staring into the nothingness of the shed’s shadows, begging for any sign of black feathers and beaks. 

Time no longer seemed solid, Ivar was unsure how much had passed between him being tossed back into the shed and Piglet being manhandled into view. 

He jerked his head in the direction of her faint yelps and watched the Giant throw her inside by her wrists. With miraculous swiftness, she jumped back on her heels and leaped towards the open door, only to be whipped back to the floor.

It puzzled Ivar that she’d do such a foolish thing as defying her master, until he realised his ankles hadn’t been shackled.

He hadn’t been shackled for a substantial amount of time and hadn’t attempted to escape. 

Piglet’s pleads were far from over, clutching her fingers around the rim of the Giant’s boot, her whimpers were eventually rewarded by a kick in the side. But the Giant did comply with her one wish and chained his crippled property back up. 

Dusk brought silhouettes and coldness and it reached inside his bones. With his clothes lacking the proper time to dry, Ivar defeatedly wondered how he was going to survive once nightfall settled in. He remembered vividly how pneumonia had nearly taken his life and how the fever had plagued his body, mind and soul.

While his breath rose and fell quivering, Ivar listened absentmindedly to how Piglet’s bare feet made their way across the shed.

“Hamar?” Her voice called him and when he lacked response she whistled through her teeth, “Hamar?” When Ivar still refused to acknowledge her presents, a bale of hay was tossed at his feet. Without uttering another word, the slave girl returned to her side of the shed to sleep with the cattle, leaving Ivar with her humble yet vital gift. 

Once Ivar was sure she’d fallen asleep, he dragged his sore body near the bale and started filling up his trousers and the remains of his shirt. Although it itched and tickled, the dry grass provided him the warmth and shelter he desperately craved.

While he buried his face in the makeshift pillow of hay, his thoughts traveled back to the Great Hall. The comforting sounds of the nearby animals reminded him so much of home. Which was all he had left; memories of the prince he used to be. 

.-.-.

Due to Piglet’s generous act, Ivar decided to cut the slave girl some slack; he postponed his murder plans, for now. Of course, he didn’t want her to know that. The girl was the only person around who Ivar could unnerve. She was the only resemblance he had to home; a thrall who’d perceive him as a monster.

So once the Giant unleashed him from his chains, Ivar did his best to spook her, by growling at her and make a grab for her ankles every once in a while.

Although her immediate reaction was that of destress, it rapidly grew into annoyance, as both of them were very much aware that the all seeing eyes of the Giant were dead-set on catching Ivar’s disobedience. Piglet knew that as long as she was out in the open, Ivar could not harm a hair on her head. She’d even had the audacity to stomp on Ivar’s fingers once she had the chance. Her feet quickly hurried off after that, leaving Ivar to his duties. 

The Giant had given him the most humiliating task of all; taking care of the pigs. Instead of a golden crown, Ivar’s skull was soon covered with muck and grime. 

He had to provide water for the filthy animals and so he reenacted his crawl of shame; dragging his lower body back to the well. That was the easy part; getting the water back to the pigsty was the hard part. During his life, Ivar grew accustomed to carry his legs around, but he’d always had a thrall or one of his brothers to carry his belongings; sword, shield, axe. 

Now he had to pull a bucket along and he couldn’t move forwards with just one arm. He did try however, but only managed to spill half of the content. Sensing the mocking eyes of strangers witnessing his clumsiness, Ivar feared that someone would alert the Giant. Which would not have a beneficial outcome for him.

So Ivar buried the last bit of his dignity and placed the handle of the bucket between his teeth, to crawl back to the pigsty; like a mule. He had to repeat the crawl once more and by the time he emptied the second bucket in the trough, his jaw ached and throbbed, while his heart bled. 

Because of course his physique by itself was laughable, him actually fulfilling tasks was a joke on its own. The few peasant maidens paused their duties of hanging out the linen to spectate Ivar’s struggles. Ivar tried to ignore the pointing and laughing, but the inevitable hurt of being ridiculed by his own peers seeped down into his chest. The repulsive undertone in their foreign tongues was not to be missed; rudeness is a universal language, one Ivar was well accustomed to.

Ivar did his best to ignore them, if he were to strike at either of the two fair skinned maidens he’d probably have both his hands cut off. To occupy his murderous thoughts, Ivar continued his tasks.

Feeding the pigs was a little less of a burden, the bucket Piglet previously used to defile Ivar’s head was refilled with overripe vegetables and potato peels.

Ivar couldn’t help himself and nicked a carrot; the scrawny little thing did not possess much nutritional value, but it felt good to fill up that empty hole that once had been his stomach, even if it was only for a little. 

Ivar had never known true hunger, but now it clung to him like a pest-ridden man holding the hand of his beloved ones on his deathbed. It was always there, festering in the back of his mind; demolishing his willpower, making his insides cringe and making his muscles lack their normal strength. 

Piglet tossed two haystacks near the hedge and tapped a rake against the wooden fence to catch Ivar’s attention. She pointed to the small cot parallel to their shed and then shoved the hay and rake over the fence. It was clear to Ivar that she wanted him to change the pig’s bedding and while Ivar dragged the stacks along he realised the fat animals had a much more comfortable living arrangement than he did. 

Another personal demolisher, was the fact that he could not functionally use the rake; in order to use it properly he had to stand up, which of course was out of the question. So, instead of using the tool, Ivar was forced to scrape the piss soaked hay together with his arms and throw it inside the small wheelbarrow Piglet pulled in. 

The slave girl made no effort to help him fulfill the task and used his suffering for a humbled break from her own labour; from a safe distance of course.

Now that the tables were slightly turned and Piglet felt as if she was having the upper hand, she grew a little more confident.

“Yallah, yallah,” she taunted and picked up the rake Ivar wasn’t using, “yallah,” and poked him viciously between the ribs. She sniggered when Ivar swung his arm towards the rake and missed.

“I swear to you woman, if we’d been between those four walls I’d be bashing that damned smile off your dirty face!” Ivar promised in a low grunt and showed his teeth: “I’d even bite your fingers off for daring to touch me.” 

But his words were meaningless as Piglet did not comprehend the meaning within them. Even his threatening intonation lost its value completely. Maybe that weighed down Ivar the most; being nothing in a foreign country, due to the overall language barrier, Ivar was utterly and completely detached from the world around him.

Piglet’s rake did not know mercy and buried itself back between his third and fourth rib. This time Ivar’s starved reflexes did not let him down and regained their speed. With one swift move, Ivar managed to catch Piglet’s tool. It surprised the both of them, but Ivar was the first to recover. 

He yanked the end of the rake with might and Piglet’s confusion left her off focus; she failed to let go fast enough and was pulled down, face first into the mud.

Ivar counted his blessings; the wheelbarrow blocked most of their view, so for a small range he was able to do whatever he pleased. With striking speed, Ivar straddled the squirming slave, forced her down onto her back and pressed a hand around her throat.

Piglet’s dark eyes grew huge and bulged from their sockets as Ivar applied just enough pressure to enable her from screaming, yet not suffocate her enough to pass out. It was a fine balance he’d mastered perfectly. 

“Who’s the beast now, huh, little bitch?” Ivar swore and leaned near his prey, showing his row of perfect teeth, “mocking me, I should rip out your tongue for that.” Although his words withheld value, their depth was written all over Ivar’s face and casted out all strength from Piglet’s body.

Her face jerked away from his, her hands faintly clenched around his wrist, but was a lost battle; even in his poor state Ivar’s vigorous upper body strength could snap all of her fingers like twigs and choke her to death without breaking a sweat. 

Then the most peculiar thing happened, one that made Ivar’s blood run cold. Because besides scarring the living daylight out of Piglet, he hadn’t had any intention to physically harm her. 

Piglet’s eyes rolled all the way to the back until there was only white and her body started convulsing. Shaking all over, unconscious, her head almost hitting the wheelbarrow.

“Piglet? Piglet?! PIGLET?!” Ivar called and grasped her chin to prevent her from harming herself. He slapped her on the cheeks, which did not lessen the convulsions and white foam started seeping from her mouth. 

Ivar realised that if the slave died, she’d drag him down with her. It would not matter if Piglet’s death had been intentional or an accident, if anyone would find her lifeless body they’d know it had to be him. By Odin, the Giant would use Piglet’s rake to beat his body until it all turned into pulp. 

Unless he acted heroically and try to save her life.

His body shot into action and he slithered his way towards the fence. Hunching forwards, Ivar reeled himself up and with great effort managed to sway on his feet. Puffing his cheeks, he shifted one foot to the other until he managed to stand and support all his weight on his arm and his two useless legs. 

“Help! I need help!” Ivar shouted and thrust his fist into the air, his other arm trembled from all the weight it had to carry, while keeping balance on the wooden frame of the fence. 

The few linen maidens once again paused their duty to glance at him, but continued their work once they realised who it was that shouted at them. Such a disfigured slave did not deserve a bat of their lashes. 

“Damn you vixens!” Ivar shouted in frustration and felt how his right leg spasmed from an upcoming cramp. He wasn’t going to manage to remain in this position much longer.

“Help me damn it!” he shouted again and banged his free hand on the wood. His heart sank when the Giant came through the rows of drying bedlinen and stormed his way. 

“It’s because of her!” Ivar sputtered, wildly gesturing to Piglet’s convulsing body. The Giant clenched his jaw at the sight and took one massive step over the fence. The crude man used even less grace than Ivar and shook Piglet like a rag doll. After what seemed like an eternity, Piglet inhaled a sharp breath and the convulsions slowly diminished into tremors. She huddled against the wheelbarrow, eyes vacant and empty.

The Giant seemed alright with the poor state of his slave and rose from the mud. His grey beady eyes then rested upon Ivar, who’d still supported himself on the fence.

Although the Giant managed to step over the fence with ease the first time, the man slammed his massive hand down on Ivar’s right shoulder and used him as support to step back onto the cobblestones. Fingers dug into Ivar’s muscles like eagle claws and the brute could not leave out another chance to pester his slave. Before releasing Ivar, he gave him a sudden and hard thrust, resulting in Ivar losing his balance. 

There was nothing graceful about tripping over your own two useless feet. Ivar fell on his arse hard and barely managed to keep in a moan. 

“I swear by Odin, I will kill you,” Ivar promised as he watched the broad shoulders of the Giant march away, “even if it’s the last thing I’ll do.” 

.-.-.

A/N: this chapter was a total joy to write. I like how Ivar gives deeper meaning to the Raven, I think it’s a good coping mechanism to deal with his losses. It’s nice to feel that person near you even though they are no longer alive. Some use a gravestone, ashes, church, or pieces of clothes to feel near a deceased loved one. So why not a Raven, it’s symbolic and suitable. I hope it was your father, you poor little prince. 

I felt sorry for him, almost, but then he fucked it up by hurting Piglet. I hope that in this chapter I gave enough ‘reason’ for him to be so hostile to this girl. It’s again his ‘monster theory,’ he’d rather be someone cruel then someone who’s searching for love. Being a ‘man’ is out of the question, so he doesn’t find himself worthy of love. Instead of spending his life searching for something that’s out of his reach, he’d rather settle for being a monster. Another (twisted) form of coping mechanism. Those maidens were mocking him, that hurt, he can’t deal with that kind of hurt, so instead of dealing with it, he takes his pain out on others who are even less fortunate. Sorry Piglet, that’s you. 

Yeah, so that was my Dr Phil cookie, thanks for reading!

Xoxox Nukyster 

The tagged ones:

@xbellaxcarolinax

@youbloodymadgenius

@saldelys @shannygoatgruff @apenas-mais-uma-pessoa @readsalot73 https://lauraaan182.tumblr.com/ @pieces-by-me 

If you’d liked to be tagged, please let me know:) 

[welcome-to-the-dreamy]

What if Lucifer read the spell book? (angst)

Word count: 1050 words

Lucifer took the book with shaking hands, only to be knocked to the floor by Belphie, who was desperately trying to get the book away from his older brother. Even with Yen’s screams, Belphie’s yells, the thumping and cluttering of books falling onto the floor, nothing seemed to get Lucifer out of this state of mind. He threw Belphie off of him, causing the younger demon to crash into a bookshelf, toppling it over. The avatar of sloth immediately tried to get back up, but it was too late. The raven-haired demon had opened the first page, and started scanning it.

The book fell to the floor, Lucifer clutched at his heart, gagging as he fell to one knee, his wings wrapping themselves around him. He let out a sound like a dying animal, feeling his soul rip in half. He screwed his eyes shut, the pain only equal to falling from grace. In his closed eyelids, he saw memories he had tried so hard to forget.

He saw Mammon throw himself over Levi as they fell, one arm clutching Levi to his chest, the other one reaching out to grab Asmo

He saw Belphie clutching to Beel, watching his little sister fall with cloudy eyes, sealing that last memory of her into his brain

He saw their white feathers fade to black, their halo’s shattering, their skulls break with the horns piercing through them, the smell of blood filling the air, the sound of bones breaking, wings shattering, as they all saw their last glimpse of the clouds.

While Lucifer was being turned inside out from the pain, a strange mist began to form in the middle of the room. Belphie watched with wide eyes as the mist started to take the shape of a young girl, her hair, ginger with white streaks, covering her face. But even so, there was no doubt who that was. Belphie felt a lump form in his throat, his pulse racing, as Lilith materialised in front of him. He got to his feet, barely able to stand

"Lilith-" the demon croaked out, his legs shaking, reaching out a hand to touch her translucent face. Only to have it pass through, as though she was no more than air. He stared at his fingers, before bringing his hand to his throbbing heart, his dark head bent down. If one looked closely, they would see tears silently dripping down the edge of his nose, millennia's worth of pain and mourning dropping down on his shoulders all at once. The girl felt something ache in her heart, and she stroked her brother’s cheek, the tears going straight through her white gloves. Had Belphie not been so overwhelmed, he would’ve felt a ghost of a touch, something there, but not quite.

He pushed his bangs out of his eye, wanting every chance to be able to see her more, the saddest smile imaginable plastered on his face. “I’m so sorry” He whispered, seeing himself in the reflection of her dim purple eyes “I couldn’t protect you-” his voice cracked, clutching his arms and tightly hugging himself.  Lilith shook her head, cutting him out of his apology. She pressed her nose with one finger and made a funny face, hoping to at least make him laugh. Belphie swallowed back his tears and wished Beel was here to see this

As if on cue, Beel entered the room, having heard all the clutter outside. He opened his mouth to say something before realising who was next to his twin. He stood there, his mouth gaped, before rushing over to her, and attempting to hug her, only to have his hands pass through air, same as his twin. Lilith looked at him sadly, doing a sort of jazz hands movement. In that moment, Beel forgot all about his hunger and just broke down into tears, his large body shaking, guilt eating him from the inside out. Lilith seemed to panic and waved her hands in front of his face, doing the same thing she did with Belphie, hoping to cheer him up. This seemed to have the opposite effect on the ginger haired demon, he choked on his emotions and hid his face in his hands. Belphie wrapped his arms around the larger demon, his face as wet as his.  

“I’m so sorry,” Beel said through his tears. “Lilith it’s all my fault-”

Lilith made a pouting face and shook her head once more. She seemed sick of her brothers apologising. She placed her palms on top of theirs, her eyes sparkling.

Lucifer seemed to stir, looking at his 3 younger siblings with 2 bloodshot eyes. He clenched and unclenched his fist, as if testing to see if he was still real. Lilith seemed to notice her eldest brother for the first time, her face lighting up. She hopped in front of him and gave him the biggest of grins, as if to say “thank you”. He held out a hand and cupped her face, and unlike his other brothers, was able to feel her soft skin. “Hello there Lilith” He softly said, a small smile growing on his face. Her grin seemed to lighten the whole room, the twins still clutching each other, all those centuries worth of grief and guilt slowly healing. 

“We’ve missed you.”

….

Two hours later and there were still tears of joy as the living room was filled with the sound of clinks and laughter

“For Lilith!” Mammon cried, holding his drink up in the air

“For Lilith!” Most of the brothers repeated, taking a swing of their drinks. Lucifer reached for his drink, only to have his palm pass through the cup. Only Satan noticed his look of horror, with him being the only one not overjoyed by Lilith’s reappearance. At the same time, Lilith took Beel’s hand, her hand fitting into his, no longer merely air. Beel’s whole face lit up, and he held her hand up to his face, crying once more. His heart still ached, but it was more bearable, everything would turn out just fine.

And it went on like that for many weeks. Lilith gained more of her body whilst Lucifer lost more of his own. 

Until Lucifer’s body faded 

One single black feather left in his place

[reyagreenewrites]

A Fate of Feathers: Chapter One

Fandom: The Witcher 

Rated: M (Language, Sexy Time) 

Pairings: Geralt/OC 

(Currently taking fanfiction requests and submissions) 

The street cats of Raven’s Way ears’s twitched and fretted as a silent shadow on horseback passed through the town, the chilly night air catching his breath and turning into clouds as he passed by equally mute homes of farmers and their families. Hair on the back of one cat's neck stood up and it was all it took as seemingly from every which way angry and haunting shrieks and sputtering hisses of cats filled the otherwise silent streets, the horse chuffing slightly at the sound.

A gloved hand reached down and gave the horse's neck a reassuring pat. "Easy, Roach." The voice was soft, but held an air of mystery and danger, cut gruffly by a deep growl of something almost primordial. The cats shrunk back into the shadows eyeing the man warily as he continued on with his steed, crawling up the hill towards the town proper. The lights in brasiers were lit to signify his arrival and In the faint luster of the fire, those he passed could see that he, his mount, and the satchel attached to his saddle were soaked with crimson blood, steaming slightly against the chill of the night . Guards fell into hushed silence as he approached, looking up from their drinking and Gwent. Slowing to a gait the horse and rider approached a pair of arched oak double doors. He dismounted, unhooking the dripping satchel from its secure line,  and hoisting it over his shoulder as he walked, not caring of the mess that he left behind him.

The doors opened for him without warning or cry, a strange custom considering the man's profession. He crossed the threshold, leaving a trail of gore in his wake and continued up the steps, not bothering to announce himself before entering the large chambers before him. Many strange and curious objects adorned the room, bits and baubles collected over several lifetimes and ages. A small wreath sat cocked to one side on the room’s soul occupant, adorned with rubies and sapphires, not to be usurped by his piercing blue eyes which sat beneath a head of brown curls. The eyes watched, clearly dulled by too much wine as the newcomer approached, slamming the satchel on the table with a sickening slap. The satchel’s belly was split by the action and carnage poured out onto the hardwood, staining it a deep mauve. The head of a beast followed, its once yellowed eyes rolled back into its skull, tongue lolling out to perch on its painfully sharp teeth, licking up the crimson as it tumbled out.

"There," the rider grunted, finally pulling back his hood to reveal a shock of white hair and equally pale stubble, "This is the head of the basilisk of Wolfbane's Ridge."

The man at the table smirked, and in one fluid motion, slid a small pile of gold coins towards the ashen haired stranger.

"You have done me well, Geralt of Rivera." The man proclaimed to no one in particular, "You are a man of your word."

The rider, Geralt, shrugged nonchalantly. "You had a paying job and I took it. Not much more to talk about."

The man's smirk widened and turned into a malicious grin, "Geralt, my friend, sit with me, enjoy some wine."

Geralt shrugged as the man reached over and poured him a glass, "What's the catch?" Geralt asked, sitting down at the right side of the crowned man. He sighed and pushed the goblet towards the sharp eyed man, shaking his head in dismissal.

 “I am but a public servant, Witcher, sort of like what you do. Take care of law and order and what have you.”

Geralt bit his tongue to keep from retorting. This man was as much of a public servant as the Witcher was a king. “I fail to see where this is going, Anders.”

Anders sighed again and sipped at his wine, as if the weight of his crown made him weary, “Geralt, I look after the well-being of those under my father’s employment. I am responsible for their quality of life. These people do not have that under their current circumstances.”

“And what circumstances do those happen to be?” Geralt questioned, already knowing where the conversation was headed.

“I sent out that bounty as a test, dear Witcher, to get only the best of the best to step over that threshold! That basilisk was just the beginning of lifting her curse from this place!” He spat as he slammed his goblet down on the table, completely ignoring the question.

“What curse?” Geralt inquired, getting slightly annoyed by the man dancing around the question, “Anders, what the hell are you talking about?”

Anders smirked, a deep chuckle arising from deep within his throat, “A witch, Master Witcher. A witch so foul, she placed a curse on this land. The beasts that once roamed only the forests, now prowl through the streets of the accursed village, killing livestock and humans alike. She controls them through spell craft, sending them to steal the souls of the women and children in their beds.” 

Geralt sighed. He knew of women who often fell through the cracks of society and ended up in backwater towns becoming local apothecary owners or herbalists. It was rare to hear of one being powerful enough or deranged enough to call upon hellish beasts like they were familiars. However, the foolish lord before him seemed to have a very bad habit of embellishing the truth. The basilisk that he had killed was hardly more than a whelp, and barely the monster that the warrant had claimed it to be. “How much are you offering for a bounty?”

“25,000 crowns, no questions asked if you bring me her head.” He stated simply, causing Geralt’s eyebrow to raise in suspicious question. A bounty that high could only mean one thing. She was as dangerous as he claimed or  merely wanted her very, very dead.

“No questions asked?” Geralt repeated, pushing his untouched wine away, “What are you hiding, Anders?”

Anders narrowed his eyes suspiciously, glaring at the Witcher, “As a reminder, you are an employee in my eyes. I am paying you to do a job, not to ask questions, do I make myself clear?”

Geralt merely nodded as Anders cleared his throat and smoothed the front of his robes until they hung taut against his body, “Now then, the witch resides in the old village up on the side of the mountain. Be warned, her monsters patrol the area and have torn apart any and all I have sent. That, my dear witcher, is why she is so dangerous.”

Geralt nodded again and turned on his heel to leave, but before he could, Anders cleared his throat, “Take heed. Even if you get past the monsters she controls, her honeyed words are dangerous. Do not believe anything she says. The witch is worse than any of her creatures and will lie to get herself out of any situation.”

Geralt merely grunted as he stepped over the threshold and disappeared into the inky night, lights falling away as he galloped from the village, spurring Roach into the unknown that lay before him.

“Steady now, Roach.” Geralt said as he finally tugged back on the reins, the horse chuffing in annoyance and pulling back to show his distaste. Roach however knew that his owner could sense things that it could not and in turn, quieted itself.

Geralt peered through the darkness as rain and wind started to sweep around him. Through the storm, he could see a large shape perched high in a tree, watching him intently. From here, he knew that he was looking at a royal griffon and he thought back to Anders’ words about the creatures along the path. Both knew the other was there, but Geralt wondered why the creature did not attack as was the nature of creatures such as these. The Witcher decided to leave this chance encounter to the winds of fate and continue along the mountain path. The longer he traveled, the more creatures he encountered, watching him from beyond the veil of darkness. Sure enough, the road that led to the witch was wrought with many strange and befuddling creatures that had often plagued Geralt along his journey thus far in his mortal constraint.

He could smell the scent of her before he even saw the village. The fragrance of the smoke in the air was that of a deep juniper, tinged with the stench of forest in the fall, the decaying leaves and undergrowth medicinal and pungent. As the aura grew, Geralt watched as a small group of ramshackled buildings came into view, the boards bloated and soft with the neverending tirade of the elements. Only one home still stood intact, a gentle glow falling out onto the puddle laden ground, dancing with the raindrops as they hit the water. No monsters prowled here, surprisingly, all standing a distance back from what was left of the village.

Geralt jumped off Roach’s back and unsheathed the silver sword from the bundle behind the saddle. Inside the hut, with his enhanced witcher senses, he could hear the woman’s heartbeat strong and steady. He couldn’t see her, but he could hear her move across the earthen floor, breathing gently into her hands to keep herself warm. He silently moved across the sodden ground, breathing only enough to keep himself undetected. He pressed up against the door and was surprised to find that it held no warding spells to keep people away.

He heard her change in heartbeat, turning her head towards the door as she crossed the ground, reaching towards the door and pressing on it. The wooden barrier swung outwards and Geralt was forced to take a step back and stand face to face with the woman that he was intent on killing.

Geralt was surprised to see not an old, tired hag, but instead a woman, her deep brown locks pulled back into a simple braid, a look of surprise on her face. “Can I help you, Witcher?” She asked icily, glaring at him in suspicion.

“I was sent to kill the witch that lives here,” Geralt said simply. The woman looked down at his sword, still unsheathed and pursed her lips, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well then, I believe you’re in luck because I am the witch who lives here,” She replied mildly, a dry little smirk coming to her lips, “Would you like to come in?”

Geralt slowly lowered his sword and stepped over the threshold, the warmth instantly catching him by surprise. The hut was dimly lit, herbs lining the ceiling as they dried. A grizzled barn owl twitched his head this way and that as he watched Geralt enter the small room, its tawny feathers standing on end as he stood at his full height and made a soft cooing noise. A fire crackled lively in the hearth, a kettle of water resting just above the flames. “When Anders said witch, I expected…”

The woman walked back towards the fire, her left sleeve hanging lifelessly from the bodice of her dress as she took the water from its perch and placed it on a weathered table, “You expected some old grave hag, or close enough to it I’m sure. That’s the picture that he paints for everyone.”

“There have been others?” Geralt questioned as she poured water into two earthen cups, steam rising as she put it back. Now that she had been so close to him, he could see that her left sleeve hung limply because she had no left arm.

“Of course there have been others,” She said simply, sitting down at the table, ushering for Geralt to take the other chair, “But none of them had been a Witcher. He’s been sending witch hunters after me for ages, but the forests here are crawling with monsters.”

“You control them?” He continued his line of interrogation, making the witch chuckle dryly.

“Hardly! I can manipulate them with sounds and smell, but to control a wild beast is to control the gods themselves.”  She pushed one of the cups across the table to Geralt and he picked it up, inhaling the scent of blackberries and chrysanthemums. “Before you ask, it’s not poisoned. I wouldn’t bring you all this way only to bring upon you death.”

Geralt looked at the cup and drank suspiciously, watching the woman’s every move. Her eyes danced like amber in the firelight, the glow of the flames casting starbursts across her irises, “Why does Anders have a price on your head?”

The woman cocked her head slightly to the side and bit her lip, narrowing her eyes, “Maybe we should start with names, Master Witcher. You, of course, are Geralt of Rivera, the Famous White Wolf, the Butcher of Blaviken.”

“You know of me? Then it is a pity I know nothing of you,” Geralt replied, arching an eyebrow as the woman stood and ushered to herself with one arm, dropping into an ugly curtsey.

“I am Lady Lyra Northwood-Dupont, daughter of Marquee Dupont of Toussaint, and wife of Lord Anders Northwood of Novigrad.” She said, “No longer recognized as either, unfortunately, but you may call me Lyra.”

Geralt furrowed his brow and looked at the woman who stood before him. She was pretty in the strange, hypnotizing way as he often found with witches. Her deep brown hair framed a pretty face, lined by the agony of some unknown trauma. His eyes hovered briefly over her left sleeve but he felt it best not to question the lack of appendages, “So, how did you end up out here, my Lady?” Geralt asked as she sat down yet again. The owl in the corner screamed like a child in the night, sending chills down Geralt’s arms as it took off through the open window.

“I was betrothed to Anders before I was even born.” She said, looking into the fire, “Our fathers were best friends and it only seemed logical that they be united in marriage as well. When I was 10, I found out that I could...manipulate stray animals. Creatures big and small would be drawn to me. Imagine my father’s surprise when he realized that he would have to give up his only daughter to the Lodge. He despised me for it, but in the end, let me go, if only for appearance's sake. Since land was on the board for Anders’ father, he pushed Anders to go after me. When he did, my father retracted his blessing and I had to return to Novigrad to marry him.”

“And you did,” Geralt pointed out. “Why didn’t you run away? Disband yourself from your family?”

A thin lipped smile appeared on Lyra’s face, “My father knew what was best for me,” She said mildly, “I went in blindly thinking that I would be able to go back to the Lodge once we were wed. Unfortunately, because of certain...rumors that began to circulate, they demanded that I live with Anders in Raven’s Way. It was the village on the Elder Lord Northwood’s land that was the furthest away from Novigrad and the whispers.”

“What were the rumors?”

Lyra looked down at the floor and sighed, “Well, they ended up not being rumors, but were very true. Anders has a very sadistic side, and because of this, ended up killing women in his...wanton lust. His father threw money at the problem to make it go away and sent us out to Raven’s Way to live out the remainder of our lives. Maybe have some children along the way that we could send him to live out his legacy. When we left Novigrad, he had nowhere else to turn to to slake those desires. I became his main torture victim.”

“I’m...sorry.” Geralt said as she looked back up at him, a single tear trailing down one cheek.

“You have no reason to be. It’s nice to be able to tell someone my story.” She replied, “During this time, I realized that I would go mad if I didn’t learn to control my abilities and so I practiced in secret. Sometimes, it would go awry and I would call beasts to the village. That would always cause some ruckus, but someone would always push it back. It was also when the abuse was at its worst. I had these beautiful hunting birds. The night that my daughter was conceived, he killed three of my favorites and raped me on their corpses.” She wiped the tears from her eyes and sighed, squaring her shoulders. Reaching for her tea, she sipped at it and looked back at the fire, “When I finally had Ingrid, I finally realized that I could finally find light in the situation. I loved her like she was a part of me.”

Lyra inhaled sharply, sitting up quickly in her chair, “After Ingrid’s birth, Anders began to drink heavily. He was an angry drunk and I did my best to protect my daughter. However, I could not protect her for long. In her seventh year, Ingrid stood up to Anders in defiance and he pushed her down the flight of stairs that she often hid under to get away from him. I held her broken body as he tormented me, taunted me for failing to protect her. That was the last night I saw Anders. I took Ingrid to see a friend of mine, another witch and begged her to bring her back. I knew that she lingered behind on the cusp of life and death and I wanted her back. She begged me to allow my daughter to leave this world. I refused to listen.” Geralt watched her glossy eyes, reliving some dark memory from the past.

“I chose to save her. I took her soul and I brought it back. Her body, however, was too broken to put her soul back into, so I made do. The owl houses the soul of my daughter.” 

“And your arm?” Geralt questioned, nodding to the empty sleeve.

“Necromancy always has some….unforeseen consequences.,” Lyra replied, standing and turning back to the fire.  “But there is always something to be learned from our mistakes.” She glanced over her shoulder at Geralt, “I know you’re under the employment of that monster, but may I make you a deal?”

“I’m listening,” Geralt replied, crossing his arms over his chest and arching an eyebrow.

“Help me get my revenge,” She replied, walking back over, forlorn sleeve hanging limply at her side, “Help me silence that bastard once and for all. I have not seen my father in almost 15 years, but I’m sure that he will pay you handsomely to help me return to the House of Dupont. Tell Anders that you killed me on top of the mountain.” With one fell swoop, she ripped off the vacant sleeve and grabbed a knife from the table Geralt sat at. He instantly recoiled and jumped to his feet.

“What are you doing?!” He demanded as Lyra screwed her face up in concentration.

“He won’t believe that I’m dead without some carnage.” She murmured, more to herself than to Geralt as she dug the tip of the knife into the space where her arm should have been. Lyra cried out in pain as she rubbed the sleeve against the marred swath of skin, wincing as she did so. When she finally pulled it away, Geralt could see the stump clearly. The place where her arm had been was scarred beyond recognition, the twisting vines of terror and pain lacing up her arm and into her shoulder, disappearing under the dress.

Lyra handed Geralt the sleeve, blood still dripping from the cloth, “Give this to him. It will convince him that you did as you were requested.”

Geralt took it without question, putting it into the satchel at his side, “You do realize that I won’t kill him for you. Witchers don’t deal in politics.” 

The woman glanced at the Witcher, grabbing a rag from the table and pressing it against the freely bleeding stump, “I didn’t expect for you to kill him,” She quipped, “I’m just requesting you take this to him. At least get him off of my trail.” 

Geralt paused for a moment, weighing the conversation in his mind. On one hand, Anders had said that she had a way with honeyed words, playing the victim in the situation. However, on the other, he knew that the griffon he had seen in the forest earlier that evening would have killed him if she hadn’t stopped it. “Fine, I’ll help you. Where will you go in the meantime?” 

Lyra pursed her lips and looked off into the distance as if pondering it, “I will stay here, for now. Once you’ve delivered that,” She said, pointing at the satchel, “Return and I’ll hopefully have a plan divulged. If not…” 

“If not, then you’ll have no Witcher and no idea of what to do. How long can you survive up on this mountain with your army of monsters?” 

She shot him a scathing glare, “I’ve survived on this mountain for the last five years, Geralt. I believe I can hold out for another month.” 

Geralt crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head in disbelief, “Fine, stay here. I’ll come back when I have word from Anders.” 

Lyra paused for a moment before nodding, “Very well, then I bid you farewell...for now.” 

Turning on his heel, Geralt walked from the cabin, the rain still pummeling the ground as he bent his head and strode back to his horse. However, to his surprise, he heard the cabin door open behind him and he turned around to see Lyra at the door. 

“Witcher, one last thing. If you betray me, I will kill you.” She promised in an almost teasing tone of voice. However, Geralt didn’t want to stick around to find out if she was jesting and so with a sharp kick to Roach’s haunches, he began his trek back down the mountain. 

[empress-of-xerxes]

Homecoming (Pt. 2)

Braggart growled through a vox grille ruined with time and his every expanding form. A patina of discoloration trimmed every nook and curve of the giants warplate, if the armor could even be called such now. Jagged rents marked where bone and hellish crags tore through the war plate and seeped with the infernal energies barely withheld within. Braggart stilted breath caused the chest piece to rise and fall as if it were his very skin now. 

"Divinity... and I mean this sincerely... what the fuck are you doing here..." He cursed with a litany of pain laced in the intonation. His words were directed and they slammed against the small woman that stood in his path daring to bar him from reaching his boarding torpedo. The woman sneered and a giddy lilt left her lips as she placed her hands on her hips. 

 +You are not to leave the ship. So ordered by the King of Snakes.+ Lyttle, the Throne of Courage, giggled at the absurdity of both the title and the request from Adrian. Even she knew that containing the Fiend of Zahr-Tann was impossible despite countless souls attempting such. 

"He... is not here... He will not witness..." Braggart shuddered and Lyttle felt the murderous intent press against her like tidal fronts against the shoreline.

+A true assessment. What he doesnt see cant hurt him, right? I applaud you on your logic.+ She bows patronizingly and then quickly presses herself back with invisible force just in time to narrowly dodge the precise blow that would have caved her skull in. Braggart surged forward, adjusting with a brute's instinctive ease and narrowly missing Lyttle by another few inches. The Throne of Courage dashed and dove, deftly outmaneuvering Braggart's monstrous blows as the Beast pressed forward wordlessly. 

+What... did I... say?+ Lyttle teased as she moved, finding little time to pause as the beast pressed the assault. Braggart was focused chaos, destruction honed and refined to a murderous, if blunt, fist. Even through the bloodlust, Lyttle could see the small calculations the brute was making to place the Throne where he needed in order to deliver the killing blow. A delicate dance Braggart had honed killing both the swordsman of his former Legion and the lithe weapon-dancers of the Aeldari.

The beast barrelled forward, shoulder first as Lyttle cartwheeled away like some court jester. He collided with a bulkhead, sending corruscating jags of energy spindling out from the impact sight. The metal yawned and groaned almost pained sounding and as Braggart pulled himself free the bulkhead wobbled as if it was a loose sheet of paper in the wind and barely held itself firm in the material plane. 

Lyttle was flustered now from the chase, a slight trickle of drool trailing down her chin as she licked her lips. Braggart stood motionless before her, helm lenses glaring at her with seething hatred. Lyttle chortled merrily, extending her left arm and making a pulling motion. The action sent a shrill note through the recycled air as the Throne pulled her mace free from it’s warp prison. The tetsubo like bat was oily black with 4 leering oni-faced grins serving as its head. She gave it a twirl and pointed it at the beast with a sly grin. 

+Okay! I see now I cant change your mind. That's fair. So what do you say, dog? Why don't we both go over to that ship now?+ 

"He isn't... here to soothe me over... with honeyed words..." Braggart hissed. "He isn't here... to keep me from... shattering your soul..." 

Lyttle sighed dramatically, +Don't press your luck. I've been entertained so far, but if you continue down this path...+ Her eyes widened then as she felt the pressure of movement from behind her. There was something there, moving in with jaws ready for the bite. But if she turned from Braggart she would definitely be ruined. Hesitation, in the end, cost her and the beast struck from both sides.

Lyttle braced with a maddened grin as her mace met with Braggart's power fist and the force normally reserved for the movement of earthen plates reverberated out from the collision sending a wave of pain blooming out from the epicenter. The Throne had barely had time to react and deeming Braggart the greater threat she endured the coming pain from behind. 

She felt a stinging wetness pierce through the first layer of defense that was the reactive force shield of her mind. Then the jarring pain as a dagger slid into the small of her back. It bit deep, pressed into place expertly to connect with the bone of her spine. It was supposed to be a crippling blow and if Lyttle had been anything less she would have been sundered. But she was a Throne of Xerxes and even this far from the planet's influence she had much power to spare.  

+F-filth! How dare you...+She growled but was quickly silenced by the violent twisting of the knife against her spine. She felt every inch of it pressured against the bone and scrape with agonizing bliss. Her eyes wavered for a momentary ecstasy and she could only rely on instinct to guide her mace to counter the obvious follow up blow from Braggart. The weapons met once again and Lyttle fell to one knee and twisted around to see her other attacker. Refractive plating blurred her vision with only the faintest outline of the warrior beneath the modified armor. But she knew the raven's soul as intimately as Adrian’s and she felt the eternal agony of a schizophrenic mind and enraptured body. Nia's entire existence was a painful monument of the Third Legion's experiments into stimuli and even the softest brush of a lovers hand could not sooth the Raven from the excruciating agony of a rewired body. 

"Pitter-Patter."

Nia muttered a litany of annoyed rhyme as his precise attack had proven to be nothing more than a jarring discomfort for the Throne of Courage. He released his knife as the daeva broke away from the brutal blows of Braggart to swing her mace around in a deftly spun arc. The mace narrowly missed the raven and Nia grimaced as he rolled, the desensitizing pads of his armor pressed against his flesh numbly. Lyttle was gaining composure quickly, reaching behind her and quickly removing Nia's knife to send it skidding across the deck. 

Braggart did not relent pressing forward to bullrush Lyttle and beginning to trade blows anew. A wicked backswing was met with the skilled counter of the daeva weapon, bashing aside Braggart's assault only to place the beast in a more opportune position. Braggart hissed steam from the many vents of his armor and his power fist rippled with contained energy as it met the flat ended head of Lyttle's mace. Both of them snarled in unison. 

Nia watched on, his element of surprise gone and what should have been the fatal blow nothing more than a distraction. He took a few steps back as the daeva and Adrian's favored clashed in percussive bouts of maddened rage. He was studying the display, both amazed and slightly disgusted by the closeness in skill between the two. One was flesh and blood close to ascendance, and the other was immaterial wearing a stolen form in mimicry to mankind.

Lyttle bared her teeth in feral appreciation for the animosity directed at her. She often took great joy in being hated and it was in these moments that the attention threatened to overwhelm her as she felt herself begin to drool. She wiped her lips in a brief moment of respite before having to raise her mace to bat away Braggarts devastating blows. Her robes rippled around her as she danced with the beast, the dark grey feathers of her folded wings beginning to shudder with annoyance. 

 "Should have... snuffed that mongrel soul of yours... ages ago..." Braggart hissed through his vox, feigning a series of blows but not feeling the pattern of this bout reaching a climax anytime soon. Many times he had pressed her into opportune strike paths only to be met with her inhuman deftness. The daeva could twist and contort at will and with a swiftness that should have shattered bone and torn muscle. Yet Braggart could feel his ire worming it's way into the daeva. Anger was contagious when directed so finely. 

Nia blinked behind his helm. His tuned senses could make out the infernal heartbeats in Braggarts chest, could hear the subtle creak as the armor yearned to give and unleash the barely contained beast within. Nia often wondered what the outcome of such an action would have. Could the Infernus Cage of Sarn be opened? What was the man within even like? He chittered joyfully at this line of thought but remained an impassive watcher of the duel of death.

Lyttle was a lithe dancer that disobeyed the laws of real space to weave her own melodic strut. Braggart's calculated grandeur was all but muffled by the decadence and sublimity of the Throne's movements, always shying just inches away from calamity but teasing the giant on as if daring it to land that fatal blow. Her dress fluttered out as loose feathers trailed in her wake from wings that itched to take flight but were grounded by the confines of a ships walls. She wore a harpys grin and sneered at every jest. Braggart would never hit her. 

+Divinity... am I...+ She taunted as she leaned away from a concussive fist, tapping out with her feet to kick away from her tormentor. +To even fathom touching this body of mine... you must break away those suffocating shackles.+ She chittered and spun, drifting through the air as if gravity was non-existent. Braggart followed on, snarling and barking pained intonements of savagery.

[quirkydahlias]

A Plus Ultra! Holiday (Christmas Special) (Everyone x Reader)

The plan was to make a good-hearted fic between class A and B but it’s beyond evident that nonromantic writing just doesn’t appeal too much. So, my gift to everyone is a large headcanon of the characters with the reader on Christmas!

Jesus, help me write this. It’s gonna be a long one.

Akira Shiryoku

Christmas is that time of year for Akira

His chance to break out the cheesy and ugliest Christmas sweaters from his wardrobe and wear them with pride whether you want to or not

“Come on, it looks great!”

“Minty... I know you can’t see, but if you could see what this sweater looks like- let’s just say it’s something even you won’t wear...”

“Haw haw haw!

“...”

“Bet.”

“It’s a ripped Santa with a red bag in his hand.”

“Ooo~! Go on~.”

“The bag is labeled 'Gains' and running shoes and dumbbells are all over this sweater.”

“...What are you talking about? It’s a masterpiece.”

He even gets you a matching pair too! Couples who look like fools together stay together after all

And if he can find one that fits, he’s certain to have Wan wear a sweater as well so he can join in on the fun

One of the best things about the Christmas season is how easy work is for him. There’s just something about the cold that heightens his senses, making the air smell even crisper- his fingertips ever so slightly more sensitive to any and every sensation.

Sure makes tracking the baddies a cakewalk.

Another great thing about the holidays is GIFTING

And boy does this man have fun gifting you and his friends

Of course, he’ll give his favorite people to pick on gag gifts, but he’s always certain to put something they’d actually like alongside his little prank gifts

Still doesn’t mean that it doesn’t suck getting a box of sea salt taffy labeled “Ear Wax Cubes”

One drawback of the winter season is the terrain

As much as he enjoys a nice walk with you and Wan, if he’s not careful he’ll probably end up slipping on some ice or snow and face planting or at the very least, tripping a little

“Uh, are you okay Minty?”

“Of course, never better!”

“Then why are you moving so slowly?”

“You said that the ground wasn’t salted. So I’m being... cautious.”

“I think you’re fine, want me to help?”

“Carry me~?”

“... You know what, I think I’ll just hang with you instead...nevermind the fact that I can’t lift you in the first place.”

Ejirou Kirishima

Kirishima loves the holiday season! Nothing warms his heart more than friends and family getting together and having fun before the mark of the New Year.

As a student at UA, he gets a nice week off starting Christmas day to spend time with his friends and loved ones, so of course, he tries to get everyone to stay in the dorms together for Christmas.

“Come on dude, it’s Christmas! How about spending it with (Y/N) and me?”

“Fuck off! Stop trying to get close to me you ass!”

“Aww, come on! It’ll be fun~.”

“My mom doesn’t want me back for Christmas, said something about traveling with my dad out of the country for the weekend.”

“Whoa, you got an answer that quickly? School ended like an hour ago-”

“Shut. It. I’m stuck with you, so cut it out.”

“Sweet! Let me go check if Mina or Sero are staying!”

A handful agreed to his plans- including you, seeing as either their home life wasn’t a very pleasant to return to or nonexistent in the case of Momo.

But for the rest, this was their chance to sign out for the week and spend some time with their parents and make up for lost time

Now, Ejirou had a family to return to as well

But this was the first time he could spend Christmas with his friends!

So naturally, his family pushed him to stay home at the dorms that year

Kirishima isn’t the type to be easily deterred, leading the charge in class 1-A’s celebration of the holidays

And amongst the chaos, he’s certain to drag his friends into helping him plan his gift for you, either by putting together a huge pillow fort in the living room just for the two of you

Or if Katsuki is there, to help him make a nice meal for the two of you to share 

As a pro hero, the holidays are much more hectic for him. Fresh out of high school and college, Kirishima has to patrol in order to catch those ready to steal potential gifts.

It’s for Christmas’ sake.

But family and friends still remain the most important thing to him, so the fledgling pro is certain to bend his schedule backward in order to take Christmas day off and host a nice Christmas party with you, inviting both his family and friends over for a nice time and meal

Fumikage Tokoyami

Darkness has no place during the Christmas season

So, to some extent, our bird boy has no place during the Christmas season

At least, that’s what he likes to think

Celebrating Christmas with him is a real hoot, as he manages to take his dark persona and apply it successfully to such a cheery holiday

For example, he’ll use skull shaped ornaments to decorate a small tree he’s placed in his dorms

Or a pure black or monotone colored Christmas sweater

Just imagine how the Addam’s family would decorate their home

That’s Tokoyami

As a bird hybrid, he picks up small traits that are endearing to any onlookers

So just like crows and ravens during the winter, it’s not too uncommon to see him bundled in a blanket and spending more time “roosting” or napping on or near you

And when caught, he often flushes in embarrassment, finding it to be immature to let those small urges take over

“H-huh?”

“Have a nice nap?”

“Damn it, I fell asleep again, didn’t I?”

“Yep, it’s kinda cute, to be honest. No need to be hard on yourself, Tokoyami.”

“(Y/N). The truest, loneliest moment in one’s life is at the hour they witness their world falleth apart, and all they can do is stareth- expressionless...”

“There, there...can you move your head off my lap though? I think I’m loosing feeling there.”

When Christmas day comes a-knocking, Tokoyami takes the initiative to make breakfast for you, as a small gesture of love and appreciation. 

His gift is usually either something for you to remember him by or something he knew you’d like- either from passing conversation or by knowing you well enough

And once the sun sets, he’s ready for his big surprise.

Preparing some popcorn and some hot chocolate (with a convenient straw for him), Fumikage is ready to introduce you to his annual Christmas tradition

Watching the Night Before Christmas

Hawks

This guy is super busy

And the holidays are certainly no exception

But there’s just something about working during the cold, wintry seasons that really makes him warm on the inside, as odd as it may sound.

Maybe it’s the lovely views he can see from above and in the skies

Or perhaps its the cold air, the dense air allowing him to fly faster and with ease

Or it’s how cute you look bundled up from head to toe

“Nice look, (Y/N)~! You should keep up the look year round.”

“Ha. ha. You look ridiculous in your winter costume too, so don’t you give me that look Hawks~!”

“Ouch, my pride! And for your information, I definitely rock the extra feathers.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

Living life on the fast lane, he’s confident that he can finish his patrols in time to spend a nice night with you on Christmas, probably ordering some fried chicken and browsing the TV for some sort of Christmas special to watch together.

However, should you be out and about too, either because of hero work or just because you happen to be when he’s finished with work, he makes a spontaneous decision to cancel all your Christmas plans for something much, much better

“HAWKS!”

“Well hello to you too, baby~.”

“You can’t just p i c k me up off the ground out of nowhere!”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, can one of you guys grab (Y/N)’s things and drop them off at the office on your way out? Thanks, seeya,haveaniceChristmas!”

“Oh my goodness-”

“Hey, hey. Calm down a little (Y/N), I stopped flying up. Although...I wasn’t even going at my full speed, you know~?”

“Speed doesn’t matter! We’re hundreds of feet in the air! Not to mention the fact that you just ditched your sidekicks with all my Christmas shopping too!”

“We were just wrapping up anyway and you just happened to be in the area, its fate if I do dare say so myself~.”

“This is kinda kidnapping if I do dare say so myself~.”

“Oooh, great comeback. It’s good to see your sense of humor alive and well~.”

“You’re just lucky you’re charming. Why am I up here anyway?”

“Well, I heard from a little bird that Disney was having the parade a few miles away. And nothing’s stopping us from giving it a flyby, what do you say?”

“...You could’ve just asked me if I wanted to go from the start. Like a normal person.”

“Yeah, I definitely could... but where’s the fun in that? You’re cute when you’re scared~.”

Himiko Toga

The truest Christmas tragedy is being a villain during the holiday season

Not only are heroes crawling all over the place, catching petty thieves and criminals left and right

But surveillance is super high!

Don’t get Toga started on all the long lines and waiting that one has to endure during this Christmas season.

Unlike her colleagues, she has the ability to go about in public as long as she’s wearing a person’s identity

So for this holiday, she finds a pretty girl to knockout and kidnap, draining her of a substantial amount of blood before locking the poor girl somewhere so she can drag you out for a night of fun and mayhem in the town

First on the list is some thief, to get your her Christmas shopping done!

There’s no way she’ll want to put you in danger, as the love of her life, but she’s certain to use you in other ways to get what she wants.

“Oh (Y/N)~! Could you pretty please distract the manager when we walk into the store? I want to snag that pretty watch!”

“For me or for you?”

“Either one works! Now go, go, go, go! It might get a little bloody in the back hehehe~!”

Another thing on her to-do list for Christmas is a romantic walk to admire all the lovely decorations and lights. Something that, thankfully, requires no crime or villainy.

At least it shouldn’t

But eventually, you’re forced to persuade her to not steal an innocent’s cat-themed decorations.

And the final docket on her Christmas list is to do something “nice” to ensure that she’s on Santa’s nice list this year although it’s highly doubtful that one good deed would cancel about all her wrongdoings.

Not to mention the fact that she legitimately believes in Santa, though that could easily be because everyone is a little fearful of breaking the bad news to her.

Her good deeds can range from freeing the poor girls she kidnaps or buying (with her own money), gifts for all her friends and of course- you!

“Merry Christmas!”

“Thanks, Himiko! Er...what is it?”

“You’ve gotta open it to find out, silly!”

“...It’s not a human heart again, right?”

“Gross, that’d be boring. Hurry, hurry! I want to see your reaction!”

“Alright, you can stop bouncing, haha.”

“...well?”

“It’s a nice jacket, fits me well too. But, isn’t this the same jacket that girl you kidnapped had on?”

“Maybeee? She didn’t seem to mind giving it to me when I asked nicely, I didn’t even have to pull out my little knife either!”

Hitoshi Shinsou

Hitoshi loves the winter season

It’s just a great excuse to sleep in for him or laze about like a cat

Unlike many others, already planning their holidays with loved ones and friends, he lacks one because of his relocation to the dorms and the other because of the stigma surrounding his quirk

Even after joining into the hero program, he feels iffy around his few found “friends”, wanting nothing more than to train nonstop through the holidays and ignore those who chose to remain behind during the winter break.

And as dead set as Shinsou is, wanting to do anything to rise to the top and become a great hero, you can easily see the burnout in his eyes

So Christmas is a yearly endeavor to rescue him from his own work ethic, coaxing the purple haired boy with cats and naps

“Hey, Shinsou?”

“Hmm? What is it (Y/N)?”

“You’ve been training with that punching bag for the past two hours, want to take a tiny break?”

“You know I’d love to-”

“Cats.”

“...excuse me?”

“I got you a cat for Christmas. Mr. Aizawa said you could keep in your dorm.”

“Heh, either I’m too easy to read, or you know me better than I thought. You win, (Y/N).”

“Nothing out of the ordinary~! See you downstairs, Shinsou- got a cup of hot chocolate with your name on it.”

Another thing that he really enjoys is a nice bike ride to blow some steam

Granted, the streets are slippery and icy, but he has a pair of tires built for it

So Christmas night, you two sign out and take a long bike ride around the city, taking in the atmosphere and bright lights, Shinsou taking in far more than the sights

“Heh.”

“Oh? What are you snickering about, Shinsou~?

“We passed some lady on her phone a few blocks back, apparently, she was just cheated on. Her boyfriend was caught going out with her cousin, of all people.”

“How scandalous~!”

“Right? The things people say when they don’t think others are listening...”

Hizashi Yamada

Christmas may be super busy for all heroes during this time of year

But he may have pulled one of the shortest sticks when it comes to working during the holidays

Without a doubt, he can expect to hear his station manager call in and request for him to do a Christmas show, which means that he’ll have to stay up all night for Christmas and thus, not with you

And it’s not like he can just say “no” to his fans! So he humbly apologizes to you each year, always reassuring to you that he’ll make it up in spades the next day

And like many popular musicians, Mic’s radio show releases a cover of some classic Christmas song- sung, of course, by yours truly~!

It’s amusing to many of his friends, to hear both Mic’s voice on the radio, and to receive a copy of his Christmas album for the holidays

That alone produces a multitude of amusing reactions from both friends and family, Aizawa calling you to ask you to stop Hizashi and Midnight calling, on the other hand, to encourage you to continue pushing him to do his thing

Midnight even tried to get the voice hero to sing a cover of Santa Baby so she can have a good laugh for Christmas

Needless to say, he refused.

As for you, it’s often your tradition to listen in on his radio show, lounging around the house and enjoying the holiday air.

Even if staying at home during the holidays isn’t your thing, he’s always certain to make sure that you’re listening in on his radio show as his number one fan and partner!

Not just to show your support, but for you to listen in on his side of your little Christmas tradition

“Alright, alright listeners! Sorry to interrupt the scheduled programming and don’t worry, we’ll get back to more Christmas cheer and chill music as soon as possible. But first, a small announcement to a special listener out there! Now I know I do this every year, but I just gotta send out some good vibes over to my lovely (Y/N)! Hope you’re enjoying the holidays, even if I’m not over there with ya! Wait on me, baby, I’m coming home soon!”

When he does return home, it’s past Christmas and around 2:00 AM.

By that point, if you’ve fallen asleep, he’s happy to turn in with you, carrying you to your shared room and plopping into bed with you 

But if you’ve managed to keep yourself awake, he has your gift in hand, ready to spend a few more hours with you before the two of you physically can’t continue maintaining consciousness.

Inasa Yoarashi

He is the living embodiment of a kid on Christmas during the holidays

He loves everything about the holidays!

The lovely, soft snow

The bright lights and festive cheer in the air during this time of year!

E V E R Y T H I N G

He goes all out too, even trying his hand at baking Christmas sugar cookies for you and all his friends, just because he feels like he’s gotta do his part and spread the cheer around for the holidays

And there’s just something about his passion and the holidays that makes him even more infectious than usual

I mean, can you really say no to someone as bright and polite as Inasa offering you a plate of cookies?

Determined to do it without help, he always tries his best to look for something you’d like on Christmas. It’s, at least to him, the best way for him to test how much he really knows you and your tastes and by proxy, how attentive he is a boyfriend

Should he succeed, he’ll be a-glow with pride and happiness for the rest of the evening

Should he fail, however, he slams his forehead into the ground bowing for your forgiveness, hoping that his gift didn’t offend you

Buying a gift for him, on the other hand, is the easiest thing to do in the world.

And that’s not an exaggeration in the slightest

Hell, you could buy him a pack of crayons and he’ll thank you with sincerity and earnest in his voice, spending the rest of the day coloring and drawing with you

Give it a week’s time before he’s showing you his pretty amazing artwork and thanking you for inspiring him to dabble in a new skill and hobby

What would really make his holiday is you showing your love for him in some way, as his love for passion extends to you as well.

“Merry Christmas, Inasa!”

“Whoa! What is this, (Y/N)?”

“I saw you browsing for this online a few months ago, but it was super expensive, so it took me a while to make the money to-”

“I LOVE IT!”

“Haha, I’m super glad you’re excited, but you haven’t opened the box yet, Inasa!”

“That doesn’t matter, what matters is the hard work- the love, you put into getting me this gift! So please accept my humble thanks, (Y/N)! You truly are the best partner I could ever ask for!”

“Jeez, you’re gonna hurt yourself. Your welcome, now open it up! I want to see your reaction myself.”

Izuku Midoriya

Christmas for Izuku was usually spent with his mother, the green haired boy having a nice meal with his mother and receiving his gifts- usually the latest All Might merch before leaving to see the heroes work during the night, patrolling the streets and saying “hello” to fans as they conduct their patrols

But now, he’s attending UA

So Christmas for him is a little different.

As he is the subject of plenty of conflicts, either with his quirk or his involvement in many of the serious altercations throughout the year...

USJ attack, Training camp attack, Katsuki Bakugou’s rescue, etc, etc.

It was highly recommended that he stay on campus for the break

The school, however, was generous enough to bring his mother to him, giving her a visitor’s pass and allowing her to spend her holiday with her dear boy

This is also his first Christmas with you, so he’s excited to have two of the people he loves the most with him

Gifting for him is a no-brainer during the holidays, both Inko and you pairing together to get him a pricey piece of All Might merch

And boy, his face when he sees his gift 

P r i c e l e s s

There has never been a face more adorable than an Izuku Midoriya in awe

Being the dork that he is, his gifts for you are similar, in the sense that he appeals to what he knows you like.

Even with the perfect gift in hand, his presentation needs a little work

“Oh, hey Deku!”

“H-hey, (Y/N)! Um...here! I hope you like this gift I got you!”

“Ooo, what is it?”

“I know you love that character, I think it was from a movie we watched a few months ago? So I found some nice merch that I figured that you’d like. Um. You like it, right?”

“Of course! But um, Deku?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you wrap this yourself?”

“I did...it’s not that obvious, is it?”

“You used three pieces of tape to keep this flap down and the bow is a little crooked.”

“Oh jeez, it’s bad, isn’t it? I’m sorry, (Y/N)...”

“Oh no, it’s lovely Deku! I love it~. It’s very you~.”

“That can be taken to many places.”

“All positive, I swear. It’s cute~.”

Katsuki Bakugou

This guy is a little Scrooge during the holidays

Big surprise

But it’s not because he hates Christmas or the whole be nice and give presents to others bit of the holiday

He just dislikes the excessive noise

Even the slightest thing, if repeated over and over again can irritate this ash blonde. Usually, it applies to the chattering of his classmates or friends or Deku’s overbearing determination

But for the holidays? It’s all the noise that the city has to offer

From the increased traffic, both pedestrian and otherwise

To the fireworks and parades

As a guy who appreciates a good night’s rest, he is displeased.

So for Christmas, he spends it at UA to escape from the noise, happy to have some peace and quiet with the majority of the student body leaving for the holidays

And with you, it’s even better. The metaphorical icing on top of the cake

Speaking of food, this expert chef automatically puts himself in charge of any Christmas cooking. Not because he’s being nice, though that does play a part in it, but because he’s not gonna trust anyone with being able to make food efficiently for those remaining in the dorms.

“Come on Bakugou, you can just leave the slicing to me!”

“No.”

“Why not, I wanna help a little, you can’t just do all the cooking!”

“Last time you wanted to help, you used your own hands to cut the fucking food. Go fuck off to the couch, shitty hair.”

“Oof, you won’t even say my name anymore, my feelings are kinda hurt, dude.”

“Fuck. Off.”

“Why do you let (Y/N) help? That’s unfair!”

“Because I trust they won’t do anything as unsanitary as cutting food with their bare hands. Unlike y o u.”

It was one time! And I swear, my hands were washed!”

When it comes to gift giving, Katsuki is surprisingly very good at it.

Even when it seems like he’s irritated and not listening to the words coming out of your mouth, the fact that he always picks up on your interests and dislikes well enough to pick you the perfect gift speaks volumes otherwise

As for gifting Katsuki anything, the blonde will behave in a rather tsundere manner, huffing and telling you that he doesn’t want anything every. Single. Damn. Year.

Honestly, just get him something practical, he can appreciate it much more than trying your chances with a random, generic gift.

But if you know him well enough, gifting him some mountain climbing gear is the key to his heart.

“Hey, Katuski.”

“What?”

“Oh come on, wipe that frown off of your face. Merry Christmas~.”

“...”

“It’s a-”

“I know what it fucking is. It’s a Black Diamond Viper Ice Axe.”

“Ooo, you know your stuff~. I figured you’d like it.”

“...thanks.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

Kyoka Jirou

Kyoka’s house is filled to the brim with music during the holidays

And it’s not those songs you’d hear on the radio or on TV specials

Oh no

Her family makes their own music

And with her bringing you over for the first time for the holidays

You get to make your own music

Her dad will be the first one to try and coax you into grabbing the mic and singing karaoke with you

Her mother will be the first one to see if you can play any instruments and provide the instrumental for a handful of Christmas songs

And Jirou will be the first one to want this entire holiday to be over from pure embarrassment at her overbearing parent’s behavior

But it’s a jovial time in the Jirou household

And if anything, you’ll leave the house knowing how to play two to three more instruments then when you entered. 

So that’s a plus.

Gifts in the Jirou family usually are music based, so you can easily expect your gifts to be the same

Jirou however, takes Christmas to be a little more sentimental with her gift, although she knows full well that doing so in her household will lead to another huge wave of embarrassment

But for you?

“Yo, (Y/N).”

“What is it, Kyoka?”

“Merry Christmas, I...got you something.”

“Is this an album? A weird cover. I don’t even see the band on it.”

“Oh, it’s probably just-”

“Hey, give it over here! We’ll play it and see if we can figure out the musican~. Kyoka’s father is very good at discerning these things, you know?”

“NO. MOM. We absolutely don’t need to-”

“...Hey, er.. Kyoka. Is that your voice.”

“Kill me now.”

Mirio Togata

Oh boy, does this guy love to play jokes during the holidays

Nothing ill-intentioned, of course, just harmless gag gifts and playful behavior from this little angel

For example, he’d throw a snowball, striking you directly in the back of your head and because of his quirk, there was no way you could hit him back.

That is- until he ends up hopping around trying to get his clothes back on in the middle of the frigid cold

Honestly, it’s one of the more amusing sights to behold when it comes to Mirio Togata

However, he doesn’t have his quirk forever.

Losing it was a huge blow to him, both physically and mentally.

But if given the change, he’d do it over and over again if that meant that he could save Eri from Chisaki

That doesn’t mean that he’s immune to the long-term effects, however, the snow and cheer bringing back memories that make his heartache

Depressing feelings pushed aside, Mirio is determined to make sure every holiday with you is as special and fun as it was when he had his quirk.

Sure, the playing field is even when you two have snowball fights

And sure, Mirio can’t playfully threaten to get some sneak peeks at this year’s presents

But in place of that, he gets to help Eri make her first Christmas- her first real Christmas a special one.

And he enlists you to help him do it.

“What do little girls like anyway (Y/N)?”

“How should I know?”

“Hmm, I don’t know if she’s had many toys. Maybe a doll?”

“That’s a good idea Mirio, but remember, you bought her one for her birthday a while ago. Doing it again would be a little...lazy.”

“You’re right... maybe a cute dress?”

“I think Mic and Aizawa said something about taking her out to pick out her winter clothes.”

“Darn. Hey, look at this. What do you think about it?”

“I like it, but I don’t think Eri would.”

“Well, let me buy it for you. Think of it as a thank you for helping me, and... as an apology. I know you were looking forward to spending some time together this year, (Y/N)”

“Mirio, you don’t have to apologize for anything, I’m happy to be here. Besides, I don’t know about you, but we’re kinda spending time together already.”

“Haha, alright. Let me just go to check out, keep on searching, alright (Y/N)?”

Momo Yaoyorozu

On occasion, her parents and Momo move out of the country to their winter home for winter break- somewhere warm and tropical, to escape the bitter cold.

However, those are rarities 

Most years, Christmas for her has always been a bit... empty

Not in a physical sense, however, as she was raised in a spacious home. So she’s comfortable with a large estate to roam around in.

What does bother her is her family

Both her parents are especially busy during the holidays and often leave her with a ton of presents and call it a day with a small voicemail when she wakes on Christmas day

And she’s forever thankful for their yearly generosity

But...

Every time she looks on the television or takes a walk amongst the public, her eyes are drawn to the families holding hands and crossing the street.

Or the couples snuggling on a bench, warm drinks in hand.

Living at UA has changed all that for the better.

She’s surrounded by friends, some even staying with her for the break in the dormitory

And she has you. Someone who’s able to fill the void of the holidays, even if all her friends did leave for the break

Unable to ship her friends expensive gifts like a summer home up north or their own speedboat, Momo opts to keep her shopping small, visiting the mall and various department stores with you to pick out gifts for everyone.

And man, the moment she stepped into the mall, Momo was in awe.

“Oh my goodness! (Y/N)!”

“Hmm? What is it? Did you find something for Sato?”

“No, no, no. Look! This pretty dress is so cheap!

“Um, Momo, that’s 8,300 yen. Even with the discount.”

“I know, isn’t it amazing? I wonder how many other items offer in the shops here. Oh my, look at the clearance table!”

“Did you find a good deal?”

“I can’t believe these socks cost 100 yen. Could we please purchase a whole box of them?”

“For everyone?”

“Er...yes?

“Momo, what are you going to do with all those socks?”

“Use...them?”

“We grab a bundle, maybe pass a few packs to the other girls if they need any. Let’s move on, alright?”

“That sounds fair. I’m sorry for getting too excited.”

“It’s not a problem at all, it’s pretty amusing to see how excited you are holiday shopping~”

Naomasa Tsukauchi

Naomasa is astonished at how many villains try their luck every year, trying to commit crimes amongst the heightened police force, increased scrutiny against criminals, and increased hero presence in the streets.

And unsurprised at the amount who fail

He’s a little disappointed, wanting to spend his Christmas day with you and kicking back a little, but duty calls

However, he has a lifeline in his sister, entrusting Makoto to entertain you during the day with her company, though he knows that could easily go south with her rather strong will and penchant for trouble

Nevertheless, he knows you’ll be relatively amused around her for the time being while he files villain after villain into police custody

Once he does manage to escape the confines of work, he knows that he has to make it up with you somehow

And what better way than with food?

So he grabs some fried chicken and cakes and heads home

Entering the apartment the two of you share is always a gamble.

Either everything is just where it needs to be, meaning that his sister ruined something and the two of you spent time fixing the house

Or the place is overly decorated from the closet space to the bathroom in holiday decorations

Which meant that he had let her spend too much time in his house.

But regardless of the state of the house when he arrives, he’s always happy to see your face, wanting to give you your gift immediately 

However, he manages to resist the urge, opting to settle down first

But once he is settled and the three of you are sitting in the living room, his sister always wants to make a game out of his gifts and make you guess what’s inside before you open it.

“Okay, okay, you go (Y/N).

“Is it jewelry?”

“Nope.”

“He’s telling the truth. Next question.”

“Is it clothing?”

“No.”

“That’s a fat lie.”

“Naomasa!”

“It’s not really clothing...”

“Oooo! Is it lingerie?”

“Makoto! NO. It’s not!”

“Booooo. Boring”

“Wait, then what is it, dear?”

“Accessories. I just thought you’d like them.”

“And while you’re opening that one, I’ll grab the next present!”

“Can we not play this game, sister dear?”

“...Nah. We’re definitely playing this game.”

Nejire Hadou

Neijre loves gift giving!

It doesn’t have to be the holidays, just the act of giving someone something and seeing their face light up fills her little heart with joy

And now she has a special someone to gift things for the holidays~

Another great thing about gifting people stuff is you can gauge their likes and dislikes from their reactions and for the sake of doing just that, she gifts you a ton of small gifts ranging from the normal to the obscure

“Merry Christmas!”

“Thanks, Hadou, but this is the 14th present you’ve...”

“Do you like it?”

“Neijre.”

“Yesss~?”

“You bought me uranium ore.”

“I know! You’d be surprised to see what you can buy online these days.”

“What am I supposed to do with this??? Isn’t it, you know, radioactive???”

“Yep! Dangerously so! But the container says that it’s safe inside there and that there’s only a tiny amount.”

“Well, thank you? I guess?”

“It’s no problem, do you want me to get you it again for next year?”

“Please don’t. I love you. But please.”

“Wow, you really don’t like uranium. Do you have particular elements you like or are you just afraid of the radioactivity?”

“No and yes?”

“...interesting. Carry on!”

Weird gifts aside, she’s always jumping at the chance to drink her favorite tea and what better time than during the coldest months of the year? And with strawberry shortcake too!

These little tea parties of hers are an annual occurrence, a bit of a Christmas tradition between her and all her friends, and you by proxy

In fact, a lot of her friends will either bake their own goods or buy complimentary sweets, the entire group huddling together under a kotatsu to chatter amongst themselves about everything from everyone’s individual holiday plans to the latest occurrences in the hero world, be it new upcoming heroes or the latest line of support gear

Once her parties are over, however, there still leaves a ton of sweets and goods left over. So she naturally, drags them and you to the bed to snuggle and relax, taking in the latest specials on TV and watching the parades that go by.

Overall, it’s an uncharacteristically quiet end to such a cheery holiday and with one of the most cheery girls in the UA too.

But it’s a lovely one.

Nemuri Kayama

Romance and Christmas in Japan go hand in hand

So Midnight, of course, is excited to see the holiday season arrive in Japan

Although she has plenty of hero work lined up ahead for her in addition to whatever work she has as a teacher, she does her best to make time for you during the holidays because she would want you to do the same for her

Using her contacts, she manages to hook the two of you up with a reservation for two in a fancy restaurant, enjoying the entire process of dolling up for your little Christmas date

“Oooh, red or white?”

“Hmm, both look pretty nice on you, Nemuri.”

“Why thank you, darling~...But really, which one?”

“Red. It matches with the holiday.”

“Good choice~. Now to find the perfect jewelry to match the outfit.”

“Do I look okay?”

“Of course you do, (Y/N) could do no wrong~. Okay. I take it back. You need to change up your outfit. You have to match me.”

“Ha ha ha, alright. Is it because we’re a couple?”

“Is there any better reason~?”

When the two of you do go out, however, Nemuri enjoys teasing you along the way, pointing to the storefront of a boutique and asking your opinion on which lingerie set would suit her more

She’s also fond of embarrassing you, showing a little more PDA than ought to be shown just to see you blush in front of strangers

There’s just something about your embarrassment and flushed face that makes her heart flip~

But date aside, Nemuri is fond of dragging the two of you out to bother her coworkers during the holidays

Whether it's going out with Vlad and 13 for some bar food or dropping my Eraser and Mic’s place for drinks and good old fashioned fun, it’s bound to be a good time with Midnight around

Once Christmas ends, however, the exhaustion of traveling around, shopping, and visiting friends finally gets to Nemuri, the pro hero reluctantly beginning to feel her age as she prepares a nice cup of tea to lounge with

Honestly, it’s not an uncommon sight to see her passed out on the couch, booze, and food finally putting her to rest for the night.

Of course, she could always reserve herself and celebrate with moderation, but the two of you wouldn’t have your holidays any other way

Ochaco Uraraka

Cakes, sweets, and more

That’s what Christmas is about for Ochaco

Her family is by no means rich, so she’s learned to spend her money during the season on more practical items then on luxury goods.

For her father, she’ll buy some multivitamins that were on sale so he can continue to work hard without sacrificing his nutrition

And for her mother, she’ll snag a nice coat that was on sale, even if it doesn’t fit her mother exactly right in the hopes that she stays warm during the winter months

And for you, she’ll buy practical goods like shampoo and conditioner, choosing scents that she thinks would suit you the best

As frugal as she may be during the season, it’s not too hard to deviate her from her normal habits

All you need are sweets and cakes

Because Christmas is a holiday where cake is almost a requirement, many bakeries naturally put their goods on sale to attract more customers

Therefore, the lines are egregiously long (as if it could deter someone as persistent as Ochaco though from joining the rest of the masses in getting their cakes for the holidays)

She will not hesitate to go the extra mile and leave the house early on Christmas day to grab a cake for the both of you (mostly her) to enjoy.

Her love for sweets, if anything, makes her really easy to shop for.

Just beware, buying anything too pricey will without a doubt, backfire and make her feel really, really bad since she’ll compare her store-bought cake to whatever you’ve gotten her

Moving away from gifts and cakes entirely, the holidays are also a time for loved ones to get together

But for Ochaco, that was never the case

Her parents were busy people after all, and demand for workers only grew during the holiday season as more and more people took leave from the workforce 

Ochaco didn’t mind, however. She genuinely didn’t. To her, this was a good opportunity for her parents to make money

Besides, she had you

And her friends of course~! She could never forget about them

Inviting Deku, Iida, and the rest of her friends over to her house, Ochaco often moves to display all the cakes she bought with some tea for her annual flow of guests to enjoy with her, the sweets and company lighting up her small home

“Oh my, what a quaint home!” 

“Thanks, Momo! Sit down, (Y/N) helped me slice up all the cake for everyone. Strawberry or chocolate?”

“Strawberry, please. I heard you had cake so I was hoping that the tea I brought would be adequate.”

“...How expensive is this box?? (Y/N)! Look! It even has jewels on it!”

“It has been sitting in the kitchen cupboards for a while, so I figured that the two of you could ensure that the leaves aren’t put to waste.”

“We will! Oh, thanks (Y/N)! Here, take this slice, Momo. Merry Christmas~!”

Shouta Aizawa

The holidays just aren’t his thing

It was nice to get a break from work and to be away from his students for a while...but all he did was nap around the house. 

Doesn’t really make for an exciting holiday for you in all honesty

He’ll still get you gifts every year, so that’s a plus. But his gifts, for the most part, are all practical gifts, the man preferring to gift you something to help you with your career than something like accessories or fanciful gifts

He doesn’t mind if you don’t get him anything too, simply because he’s well aware of the fact that he’s a hard person to shop for. 

Honestly, get this man some fluffy blanket and he’ll be satisfied 

And as the Christmas day dies down, it’s his own little tradition to take a few gin and tonics and relax with you in the living room, just enjoying your presence in a blissful silence

And thus, ending your holidays on a quiet note

However, everything changes the year he adopted Eri

Well... the year the school adopted Eri

She had celebrated Christmas before, even receiving presents from a few of Chisaki’s goons

But with all the terrible memories surrounding her life under Overhaul's guardianship, she was in dire need of new, better Christmas memories

So naturally, Aizawa was placed with the task to oversee her safety and happiness for the holidays

Not wanting to involve you too much with his pro hero work like this, he tries to do everything himself

And for a person who doesn’t care too much for the holidays, he gets a surprising amount of progress done before eventually falling short and being forced to request your assistance

“Um...Shouta?”

“Yo.”

“What is that?”

“...a present.”

“Why didn’t you get the store to wrap it? It looks a little... tight.”

“What exactly is that supposed to mean, (Y/N)?”

“Honey. Sweetheart. Love. You tie people up for a living. I think that poor present is unrippable.”

“...Damn it. Can you hand me my knife? It’s my costume.”

“’Course, as long as you tell me what all this is for~.”

“Work.”

“Come on, Shou! I know you want to keep ‘home life separate from work life' but I’m i n v e s t e d now. Please?”

“...It’s for a little girl the school adopted, Eri.”

“The school? Or you?”

“...”

“Wait, is this the one from the Hassaikai Raid you told me about??”

“Yeah. I’m put in charge of making her Christmas...special.”

“Okay, I’m not taking no for an answer, I’m helping~.”

“Do what you want.”

And so began your involvement in Eri’s Christmas, Aizawa splitting up the work with you and leaving the wrapping to you for the most part

A couple of days before Christmas hits, he takes both of you out to shop for winter clothes for Eri, the little one taking an immediate shine to her adoptive father’s lover.

It was as if the three of you were like a real family

Once Christmas arrived, Eri was brought to your home, the little girl gawking at not only the presence of her friends and heroes, Mirio and Deku, but the numerous presents hidden underneath a beautifully decorated tree, the rest of the house decorated to perfection (Thanks to your help)

While she caught up with the two boys, Aizawa pulls you to the side to get some much-needed air on the balcony

“Here.”

“What is it, Aizawa? Is this a present?”

“Just open it.”

“...It’s... a necklace?

“Put it on.”

“Thank you, really. It’s lovely.”

“Eri suggested to me when we were shopping yesterday.”

“That’s...honestly the cutest thing in the world. But why would she suggest this, it’s pretty incomplete-”

“...”

“Shouta. Is this one of those split necklaces? For couples? Are you wearing the other half?”

“Yes...don’t look at me like that (Y/N), you know I can’t wear it to work. It’d be too dangerous.”

“I know, I know~. This is honestly the sweetest thing you’ve ever given me, thank you~.”

“It’s for helping me with all this.”

“Righttt. And that red face is just because of the cold. See you inside, Aizawa. Merry Christmas~.”

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N). Hey.”

“What?”

“What happened to the cat decoration we put outside?”

Shouto Todoroki

Shouto has always favored the cold simply because it reminds him of his mother

The white snow reminding him of better times with his siblings, his sister keeping the boys from getting too rowdy and overzealous while he happily watched from the sidelines

But those days are long gone.

If anything, he still looks forward to the holidays because of the infamous busy schedule of many pro heroes- his father taken out of the picture on an annual basis

Nothing is set in stone, his sister’s insistence that he come home for the holidays already setting off alarms in his head

Was his father going to be home for Christmas?

Not wanting to deal with that mess, he politely declined his sister’s invitation to come home and remained at the dorm

It was nice, to be with you and his friends for the holidays

It was also a little surprising to see how many stayed behind during the holidays, didn’t they have families to visit this time of year?

Just musing about his friend’s family, however, brought back the thoughts of his own family

It was awfully cold out. Though his mother was more acclimated to the cold than most, he hoped she turned up the heat in her room and drank warm liquids to keep her healthy

“Shouto?”

“...”

“Todoroki.”

“I’m sorry, I was just in thought.”

“Is it about your family again?”

“My mother.”

“You worried about her?”

“A little. I just hope she’s doing alright. The post is a little slow during the holiday season.”

“Maybe we could visit her? Ooo! We could buy her a nice gift!”

“...that’s a lovely idea, (Y/N). Let’s do it.”

And so the two of you set out one day during the break to go shopping for possible Christmas gifts 

That’s where the two of you were met with a dead end.

“So, what does she like?”

“...I’m not sure.”

“Really? What do you talk about when you’re with her?”

“Me, mostly. She always wants to hear about my progress in school and about my friends and you.”

“Darn it. Maybe a cake?”

“What flavor?”

“...ughhh. Shopping is the worst.”

“Don’t worry, we can figure something out.”

Eventually, the both of you decided that the gift should be of sentimental value. Something that helps her connect more to the ones she loves, her children.

But that meant that you’d have to brave his household.

Shouto’s family was accommodating enough, both of you skirting around Enji in order to search the house for something, anything to gift Rei

And that’s when you found it.

Up in the attic were pictures. Tons of them. All stuffed into a makeshift album, something Rei or Fuyumi must have kept. Everything ranging from Shouto’s first steps to Fuyumi’s first time at the train station was photographed and sealed away in the pages of the book.

After giving a rather informal goodbye to his sister, blatantly ignoring his father, Shouto walked right out the front door, Fuyumi knowing full well where he was headed with that old book shoved under his arm

“Hmm, it’s late... who’s there? Shouto?”

“Hello, mother. Merry Christmas...I hope you like it.”

Taishiro Toyomitsu

Ugh, being a hero sucks.

Especially when so much good food is on display and all you want is to ditch patrol and go grab something to eat

But Fat Gum takes his work seriously, so he forgoes the snacks and patrols the streets, a silent source of reassurance for the passing civilians going shopping

“Taishiro!”

“Huh? Oh hey, (Y/N)! How are you doin’?

“Great! I figured you’d be hungry so I grabbed some dango for you- it was a two for one special~!”

“Whoa! That’s amazing! Thanks (Y/N), you’re the best~!”

“How long are you going to be on patrol for?”

“Eh, Tamaki said that he heard that I was off at 10 tonight.”

“Heard?”

“Kid was too shy to ask my replacement or his sidekick about it”

“Well. Maybe I could grab you some food while you patrol?”

“Is this really how you wanna spend your holiday, (Y/N)? You could go home and get out of the cold.”

“I think I’d like to spend Christmas with the person I love the most. Besides, if any trouble happens, I’ll get out of line and out of sight, alright?”

“...fine. Just promise me one thing.”

“Sure, what’s that?”

“You’re gonna go home if you get too cold, I don’t think getting sick during the holidays is what you want this year, ha ha ha.”

“Reasonable. You have yourself a deal~.”

So for the majority of the Christmas day was spent with you accompanying him along with his patrols, Taishiro happy to cough up the yen for you to get yourself (and him) food and drinks as you two walked the streets

Once it did get late or once you had enough of the cold and left, Fat Gum was certain to bring home all the food his office got- thank you’s and gifts of appreciation from his fans, all edible.

“Whoa! how did you get all this food up the stairs?”

“Amajiki helped me, good kid. Gave him a cake and sent him home for the night.”

“I have some of your favorite specials recorded and some hot chocolate ready by the way. It’s on the counter.”

“You really are the best! Thanks (Y/N), Merry Christmas!”

“Come on, we can sort through the treats later. Grab a cake and meet you on the couch.”

“Roger that!”

Tamaki Amajiki

Oh jeez

Why are there so many people out and about during the holidays

Living in Musutafu, he figured that he’d be used to the hustle and bustle of the city, but it just isn’t the case for someone as shy and anxious as he is

His friend, Mirio, does his best every year to try and pull the introvert out of his shell a little, getting him to go out for lunch at a nearby cafe that was hosting a holiday special or to go catch a movie or two with him

But this year, Mirio was busy with Eri and his family, leaving the two of you to celebrate Christmas together instead

Wanting to try and be a good partner to you, he figured that he should do something for the holidays. Maybe a date or a nice present would suffice.

And as great as those ideas were, it was the execution that had him all flustered

Should it be food? Was food a good gift? Fruit maybe?

Or maybe you’re secretly allergic to something? What if he accidentally gives it to you!?

He’d love to take you out on a date, but most places are so packed, everything is reservation only

Which means that he’d have to talk to someone. A. Real. Person.

He’d have to talk to them over the phone and ahhh! It’s too much!

Deciding that celebrating the conventional way wasn’t going to work out very well, he opted to order everything he needed and have it delivered to his house, inviting you over for a small date

“Hey, Tamaki! You sounded a little panicked on the phone, are you alright?”

“I-I did? Oh...I was trying to ask you out on a date...”

“Haha, that part I understood. I didn’t get the rest though since you mumbled the rest as fast as possible before hanging on me.”

“Sorry, (Y/N). I’ll work on that. Do you want to, er, come in?”

“Sure, are we headed out for our date or is this an indoorsy one?”

“I wanted to stay in for the holidays, everywhere else is just too much.”

“Hey, it’s perfectly fine if you don’t want to leave the house! Please look at me, Tamaki. Aww, your cheeks are all red~.”

“(Y/N), you can stop teasing me now. I don’t know how much my heart can take...”

“Alright, alright. I’ll have mercy. Let’s go cuddle on the couch, I brought your gift over and I want to see what you think of it.”

Unsurprisingly, staying inside and out of the cold turned out to be a pretty good idea, Tamaki making mental note to do it more often when the winter months rolled around.

When it came time to give you your gift, he was certain to choose something he absolutely, 100% knew you liked or wanted.

That way, he decreased the likelihood of having that awkward situation where you��d reluctantly accept a person’s present just to be polite!

Seeing your positive reactions to his various presents just helps to build up his confidence year after year, eventually helping the hero voluntarily choose to spend the holiday with large groups of friends and even in crowded public areas

Tenya Iida

With his brother in a wheelchair and forced into early retirement, Tenya wants to forgo everything and everyone else in his life during the holidays to return home and be there for his older brother

But shutting out everything isn’t going to help him in the long run, it simply isn’t the answer

So unlike many other couples, making plans for the holidays and going out on dates, you show up uninvited and concerned for your boyfriend

He was certainly surprised to see you, but in the end, was far too polite to try and turn you away since you did give the extra effort to see him over the holidays

Upon seeing you in the doorway, his family turns into a tizzy, his brother wheeling himself over to greet you properly while his parents prepare another seat for the holidays

Figuring that you were here for his little brother, Tensei pulls back from his little brother, wanting him to spend less time worrying over his older sibling and more time actually celebrating the holidays. Even if Tenya is stubborn about it.

“B-But, brother! I can’t just leave you here to go shopping today! It wouldn’t be right!”

“Dude, just go have fun with (Y/N), school is going to come back sooner than you think. Enjoy your break while you can. I’ll be here with mom.”

“...Are you certain that this is really okay?”

“Yep. Thought about inviting a few of my friends over too so you two kids being occupied is fine with me.”

“Alright, I guess I did need some fresh air, did you need anything?”

“Eh, maybe an order of Hayashi rice? Mom keeps trying to feed me ‘healthy’ stuff for my recovery. And, it is Christmas. So a cheat day is in order.”

“Okay! I won’t return until (Y/N) and I have found the best possible Hayashi rice for you!”

“There’s a place a couple blocks down the-.... anddd he’s gone.”

During your little outing, Iida regrettably finds himself enjoying it a little more than he ought to have

His brother was still recovering for Christ’s sake! And what was he doing?

Enjoying a hot drink with you and shopping for presents for his family and loved ones, you specifically being included in the latter group

Even if he didn’t verbally voice it, his body language speaks volumes- the boy is an open book after all.

By the time you wrapped up all the needed last minute shopping, the sun was setting, marking the perfect time to sit Iida down and get him to loosen up.

“(Y/N), we really should be back home. The rice is getting cold-”

“Iida, Iida, Iida. Calm down a little, we just got the rice. Come sit with me.”

“...Alright, but we’re gonna head back in 5 minutes.”

“Sure.”

“...”

“Hey, Iida, you know why I’m here, right?”

“You were worrying for me, weren’t you?”

“That’s the sharp hero I fell for~.”

“I really do appreciate you visiting, thank you, (Y/N). Truly.”

“Your whole family wants you to be happy, Iida. Why else would your older brother shoo you out the house?”

“For rice?”

“Ha. Ha. But really, the stress is in your face, Iida! We can’t have our class representative returning to school all down, can we?”

“Y-You’re right! The break is meant to keep the morale of the class high, and if I were to be the sole one to return to campus-”

“Sad?”

“Yes! It’d be a travesty! We should make the most of the break while we can, (Y/N). To alleviate my family’s worries, for the eventual return to school, and ... for...myself.”

“Hey now, sit back down, Iida. You said we had 5 minutes! Just take a breather~. Besides, look around us.”

“What?”

“The lights, they’re all being turned on, one by one. It’s pretty romantic, isn’t it?”

“Yeah...it is...it’s nice.”

“Look at you, relaxing~! Merry Christmas, Tenya~.”

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N). Thank you again, for coming for me.”

Tsuyu Asui

The holidays are extra stressful for Asui in particular

Her parents work late hours during the holiday, which she doesn’t mind since it’s nothing out of the usual for her

Her siblings, however, are another story entirely

They were manageable on a day to day basis

But during Christmas?

They were bouncing off the walls with excitement, always wanting to do something or go somewhere

Which, again, was something she was used to.

However, because of the cold, wintery weather, she often felt drowsy and keeping up with her sibling’s antics was a difficult challenge

Thank the skies above that the effects worked both ways, so her siblings could only be excited for short bursts of time.

Tsuyu invited you to her place for the break, figuring that you could visit and meet her family in the process

However, she was certain to accompany her invitation with a disclaimer, apologizing in advance for the rowdy kids and hectic home life she has during the break

Upon arrival at the Asui household, it’s buzzing with life, her father, Ganma, and mother, Beru already preparing to head out for work, leaving Tsuyu and you in charge of her two siblings, Satsuki and Samidare.

First on the docket for Christmas day was breakfast, Tsuyu cranking up the thermostat so she could stay awake and finish making everyone something to eat.

The next was the presents, Tsu slipping yours, something small to say “thanks” for joining her when you could easily spend your time with your own family

“I hope you like it, (Y/N).”

“Wait, how did you know I wanted this? I don’t think I told anyone...did I?”

“Nope, ribbit.”

“Tsu, how did you know? Or are you some mindreader~?”

“I just picked up on the fact that you wanted it by watching you. You’re a little obvious when you like something, (Y/N).”

“Well, thank you, Tsu! I hope you like my present for you~.”

“It’s very functional, hopefully, I can add it to my costume to keep warm during the winter. Wasn’t this in the latest Christmas catalogs?”

“Yep, took me quite a bit of yen to pre-order it, I really hope it’ll help.”

While she stays bundled whenever she leaves the house with you during the break, it’s a little cute watching her frog instincts kick in.

For example, the two of you could be sent out to fetch some cakes for Christmas, Tsu dosing off on your shoulder on the train ride to the mall.

Or another example would be her small yawns, trying to not show just how severely the cold was affecting her and the adorable warmth in her face when she’s caught and you hand her a warm drink you bought- priceless.

Yagi Toshinori

Every year, around Christmas, the latest support items are released to heroes across the nation, many pros treating themselves to a nice upgrade for the holidays

When he was still in his prime, All Might would always keep an eye on the various catalogs, wanting to stay sharp and ahead of the villains.

However, he’s far past that point in his life

So this year for Christmas, All Might wanted to spend some time with his closest friends and family.

But his master was gone, Gran Torino preferring to stay warm in his home during the holiday season.

And as for friends...

He didn’t really have many of those. At least not the ones that knew of both All Might and Yagi Toshinori.

Naomasa was busy with the villains during the break, so he couldn’t really contact him. And even if he wasn’t, Yagi knew that the detective cared for his sister and was probably with her over the break

Shield was across the seas, working on support items in the west, the very same ones that end up on every pro hero magazine and catalog in the country.

So all he really had was you.

For his co-workers, he’s certain to leave them all gifts before taking his leave for break, just out of the pure desire to build rapport with them and deepen their friendship

As for you, he doesn’t want to be too overbearing for the holidays, pushing you to go and be with your family for the holidays. It’s not often that everyone has free time on their hands like this after all

But please, dear God. Invite the poor man with you. He needs the company.

Graciously accepting your invite, he’s a bit nervous on what to bring his first time there. But if this isn’t his first time around the block, then he’s far more confident in his ability to pick an adequate gift for your folks.

In all honesty...

Never in his life did he ever think he’d make it here.

Being with someone he loved.

To meet and hang out with people he could hopefully call his own family

It was uplifting, extremely so.

And as the holiday ends, he’s certain to pull you aside for a final, quiet moment. Just the two of you.

“It’s very lively, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is, Yagi. My family and friends tend to be a little rowdier than usual this time of year. I think the season just does that to people.”

“It’s pleasant. Thank you for letting me in for the holidays, (Y/N).”

“It’s no problem at all, I love you. So, isn’t it natural that I’d want to spend my time with you during this holiday?”

“Haha, I guess you’re right! Still...you didn’t have to.”

“Are you alright, Toshi?”

“Perfectly fine. It’s just... so difficult to put my feelings into words.”

“Then don’t.”

“Wha-”

“...”

“...that. Was very pleasant.”

“Kisses tend to be like that. Merry Christmas, Toshi~. Hey, you’re definitely coming over next year right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, (Y/N)”

Yuga Aoyama

Christmas has always been a time for his family to stop working and huddle together, enjoying their time together before school and work pulled Yuga apart from his family

Memories of the bright, sparkly Christmas tree his parents always put up every year always flows into his mind around this time of year

The scent of sugar cookies and cinnamon always bring back the memories of the large meals his family would share when he was younger.

But then those memories are corrupted, replaced with the one time his quirk went out of control, blasting the tree he admired so much with his naval laser.

The scent of cinnamon and spices burning in his nose as he remembers accidentally blasting the chair opposite him when eating with his family, thankfully, an empty chair

With the mixed feelings brewing in him concerning the holidays, Yuga spends a bit of time every year browsing all the websites and catalogs he can, searching for the latest support items released for use of all pro heroes around the world.

Hoping that one day he could find something more efficient at containing his naval laser

And considering his faulty quirk- anything to improve his abilities, so he’s able to use his quirk for longer lengths of time or to improve the strength of the laser itself

Just watching him brood over the various magazines is enough to squeeze your heart

It eventually becomes an annual endeavor to cheer him up in time for Christmas, which is honestly not too hard to do.

After all, he’s been dealing with these issues for a majority of his life.

Taking him out on walks to see the lights being put up always puts a small smile on his face, being an avid admirer of all things lovely and shiny

He also finds it fun to bring you out shopping. No need to buy anything, Just the process of browsing and trying on clothing is enough to entertain him for hours on end.

But make no mistake, if he really likes something on you, he’ll buy it.

There’s just something about being with you that takes the edge off of the holidays, making the season more palpable and pleasant for him

It’s as if being with you paves over all those memories he has of the holidays, the beginning of his relationship with you truly marking a fresh start in his life

Besides, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he let his mood drag down the entirety of Christmas for you?

“Here, I figured you’d like it~.”

“Oh, shampoo and conditioner? Rose scented?”

“Something to remind you of me~.”

“I love it, Yuga~. You always do smell lovely.”

“I do? I MEAN- ahem, of course, I do, it’s only natural that someone as stunning as me smells just as stunning~!”

“Alright, alright. Open up my gift now. I want to see that ‘stunning’ smile of yours~.”

“Haha, as my (Y/N) commands-...Is this a support item?”

“I spotted it in a small catalog from America, it helps to focus light. And while it’s supposed to be for people with laser vision, I think we can make adjustments to make more out of your quirk~.”

“I love it. So, so much. Thank you, (Y/N)”

“Oof! Your hug is a little tight there, sweetie. But I am glad you liked it. Merry Christmas, Yuga.”

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N). I swear, I’ll make it up to you next year. I promise~.”

[queertazsecretsanta]

Bird Feed

A gift for @call-me-page, created by @aphaceland!

Happy Candlenights!

Title: Bird Feed

“Lup, that better not be the fresh bread you’re feeding them.”

“They deserve the best, Taako.”

Ever since the two of them opened up the Bready or Not Bakery, people had been flocking to the twins to get their fill of the kickass pastries they made. Unfortunately, they weren’t the only ones flocking. At first it was a group of pigeons that swarmed a warm bun that someone dropped on the sidewalk outside. Then word traveled to the sparrows and seagulls after some poor soul dropped their cupcake frosting-side down, sending sprinkles scattering across the curb. The most recent freeloaders had been a bunch or ravens or crows or whatever cawing up a storm right in front of the shop. At this point Taako had had enough and Lup wasn’t helping at all.

“That’s probably not even good for them.” Taako said, crossing his arms and leaning on the door frame.

“As long as it’s not all they’re eating it’s fine. Just a little snacky snack for some good birdy boys,” she said in a sing-song voice. Great, his sister was baby talking to a bunch of dirty street birds.

“Alright, suit yourself. Just know that ya boy, that’s me, hi, is gonna take your tips if you don’t get your butt inside and help me make the rest of the muffins before the store opens.”

At that, Lup gets up, dusts herself off, and runs back inside, glancing back only once to see the gathering of various birds enjoying the crumbs she left behind. Only after the birds finished their small snack did a raven, much larger than the other ones present, land right in the middle of the frenzy. The other birds flew off, leaving the raven looking for what was left. The large raven flew over to the side of the shop, right beside the display case that Taako was setting up for the day. The raven perched itself on the windowsill and pecked at the glass.

Taako only spared a single cursory glance the raven’s way before he went back to setting up. It was enough that he had to get out of bed early to make the pastries, but he had to arrange the display just right so that it was all appealing as fuck. The taste was already amazing, natch, but you need to make sure the people actually bothered to buy it first. He was positioning a cheesecake slice so that strawberry was just perfect under the lighting when the raven pecked at the glass again.

“What?” he asked, nearly dropping the cake in the process.

The raven pointed its beak insistently at the display. Taako couldn’t tell what exactly it was pointing at, but that hardly mattered anyway.

“Sorry, my man. You missed the feeding frenzy like a minute ago,” he shrugged, not sorry in the slightest. The raven only shook its head and ruffled its feathers, pointing again at the counter. Taako looked over at where the beak was pointing and saw the bowl of elderflower macarons.

“Nope. This is a Taako o-ri-gi-nal. Paying customers only.”

He was talking to a bird. A smart bird, but a bird nonetheless. He made a shooing motion with his hand and it seemed to have finally gotten the message. It flew off to leave Taako in relative peace before the morning rush started.

The raven, however, was not deterred. He waited patiently, with puffed up feathers, outside of the door, not quite feeling the cold breeze of the brisk autumn day. He had closed his eyes and nearly drifted off when he heard the telltale ‘ding!’ of the bell over the door being rung. Someone was going inside. Seizing the opportunity, the raven hopped up and walked in before the door slammed shut. Too short to be within line of sight, he walked over to the back room, making sure his talons didn’t clack too loudly against the tile.

Inside, he saw the elf from before. He looked engrossed in his baking. He was kneading dough for some confection when a kitchen timer went off. The raven clambered underneath a table and tried to hide in the shadows. Taako didn’t seem to notice him, though, and went over to the oven to pull out a tray of cinnamon rolls. The smell of fresh cinnamon wafted through the room, spurring the raven into action.

The raven flew out from under the table directly at Taako. He flared out his wings and yelled, mimicking the elf’s voice. “TAAKO O-RI-GI-NAL!”

Taako jumped with a yelp and fumbled the tray. A few cinnamon rolls fell before he could right it, though the screaming fucking bird in his kitchen was currently taking priority. The raven swooped down and grabbed a roll before it hit the ground and attempted to fly away. However, this gave Taako an opportunity to attack. He put the tray down and grabbed the bird’s leg. It flapped uselessly in his hand, clutching its stolen prize for dear life.

“What the fuck!” he yelled.

A few seconds later, Lup burst in with her wand at the ready. The confused and somewhat frightened expressions of the customers were visible for the few seconds the door was open. Lup looked around the room, seemingly searching for another person. Her worried expression turned deadpan when she saw her brother holding a bird that was awkwardly trying to free its leg.

“Goddamn it Taako, it sounded like you were being murdered in here.”

“Worse!” He pointed the raven at her. “This is what happens when you feed the birds, Lup.”

The raven had certainly found itself in a sticky situation. He could already feel the effects of the polymorph spell wearing off. He threw his head back, trying to eat the cinnamon roll before he turned back. Unfortunately he couldn’t even have that. Taako grabbed the part of the roll that was still hanging out of his beak and threw it out.

“Just toss it out the back door. And wash your hands, you don’t know where it’s been.” Lup said.

“Oh yeah, says the one who was feeding them the good bread in the first place. What happened to your good birdy boys, huh?” he teased, but walked to the backdoor anyway.

At that point, the raven was relieved. He may not have gotten the whole thing, but just tasting it would suffice. More importantly, he needed to get somewhere private or else the spell would end right in the middle of-

It sucked that it was an instantaneous transformation. Suddenly, instead of Taako holding a mischievous raven with half a cinnamon roll in his mouth, he was holding a grown man with half a cinnamon roll in his mouth. By the leg. The sudden shift in weight caused them both to fall over.

Taako was taken entirely by surprise. And, nope! He did not like that shit one bit. He pushed the man roughly off of him. “What the fuck is your- oh shit you’re actually kinda hot.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Are you hurt? I didn’t- I didn’t think it was going to go like that,” the man said.

“What did you expect to happen?” Lup said, now thoroughly confused.

Taako took the time to study the man as he and Lup argued. Well, it was more Lup arguing and him apologizing. He had shoulder-length dreads and a tastefully short beard. He was fully gothed out, with a black suit, skull patterned tie, and raven skull earrings. Taako also noticed the barest hint of fangs as he spoke. Fuckin’ nice.

“So, what’s your story? Any reason you, uh, busted into my shop, bird boy?” Taako said, almost certainly interrupting his and Lup’s conversation.

The man regarded Taako for a moment and Taako hoped he was checking him out. He fixed his tousled hair and rolled over onto his side so he could have a good look. Lup rolled her eyes.

“Um, my name is Kravitz and I’m not usually a bird. It’s just… the food here is so good and I don’t have any money-”

“You don’t have any money?” the twins asked in disbelief, gesturing at his immaculate suit.

“What, your sugar daddy’s holding out on you?” Taako asked with a giggle in his voice.

Kravitz frowned. “I don’t- I’m not- I don’t have one of those, so no. My job doesn’t really have a salary?”

Mild disbelief turned into full-fledged suspicion. What the hell was this guy talking about? “What do you even work as?” Lup asked.

Kravitz took note of the fact that she still hadn’t lowered her wand, so he had to choose his words carefully. He couldn’t exactly tell these people he was a reaper for the Raven Queen. If word got out that the literal Grim Reaper uses the powers that his Queen gifted him to get food from a local bakery, his reputation would take a massive hit. Especially since he technically doesn’t need to eat in the first place. Gods, he wanted this moment to be over.

“I work… as a… mortician.” Kravitz cringed at his own answer.

Taako rested his chin in his hand and cocked his head to the side. “Pretty sure they get paid.”

“They get paid more than us, I know that much.”

Kravitz stood. “Look, I’m sorry for the trouble and the mess. I really don’t have any money. I can find something to give you, though.”

He reached into his pockets and felt the jingling of trinkets he had collected on the job, as well as the occasional reward from the Raven Queen. He would hate to give those up, so he only pulled out a pair of earrings and a necklace he found on a previous job. They weren’t his style anyway. The earrings were both gold with sparkling rubies dangling from a chain. The necklace was probably part of that set. It was also gold, but it had several chains of dazzling rubies adorning the front. He preferred to wear cool colors, and this looks good enough to cover the losses.

“Um, is this good?”

Both twins practically ran into him to get a good look. Lup snatched up the earrings while Taako inspected the necklace. Their eyes widened as they appraised the jewelry and gave each other a look. Strings of anxiety knotted up in Kravitz’ chest. He hoped it was enough. He clutched the silver pocket watch his Queen gave him after his last job. There’s no way he’d give this one up.

“Yeah, that just about covers it, my man.” Taako said, putting the necklace on. It didn’t fit with the whole ‘flour-covered apron’ look he had going on, but Taako made it work. Taako always made it work.

Kravitz sighed in relief. “Well, if that’s it, I should probably get going.”

“Hold on a second, there’s still an issue we gotta deal with. Lup, could you uh, check out the customers out front, see how they’re doing?”

Lup looked at him, then Kravitz, then back at him. She sighed and put her wand back in her pocket. “Only because you helped me with Barry.”

Kravitz felt even more nervous with only one twin in the room. Taako eyed him up and down and Kravitz felt the need to stand up straighter under his scrutiny.

“So I take it you’re gonna be back tomorrow, yeah? You thinkin’ of going as a bird again or what?”

Kravitz cleared his throat. “No. I’d like to avoid… all of this from happening again. Thanks for taking my offer, and sorry again for… everything.”

Well damn. This guy was way too sweet. Taako was beginning to feel bad for taking advantage of the guy. What he gave them was way more than enough to cover the three cinnamon rolls he dropped. Lup would probably feed them to the birds anyway. Taako sighed dramatically, prompting Kravitz to cock his head to one side as if he’s trying to figure out if he said something wrong. Damn, he was cute. Taako strode over to the tray of cinnamon rolls and tossed Kravitz one.

“Here, since you like those so much. Look, I’ll be real with you. Since you have like no understanding of money whatsoever, I’ll be nice and let you know that this,” he gestures to the necklace, “is way more expensive than a few cinnamon rolls. Now, I’m deffo keeping it, but I figured since you’re such a hungee boy I’d make you something even better.”

Kravitz’ eyes widened and a barely subdued smile crept onto his face. “Like a chocolate cake?”

At that, Taako sported his own lopsided grin. “Yeah, fuck it. I was gonna go for dinner, too. Make a night of it y’know.”

“Taako, I-” he paused to consider his next words. “Thank you. You really don’t have to do this you know.”

“I know, there is no end to my generosity, is there?” Taako turned and searched the top shelf, pulling out a pen and clicking it a few times before walking over to Kravitz. “You got a phone, homie?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before he started scrawling his number on Kravitz’ palm. “No, but I’ll send a raven.”

Taako paused in his writing and looked up to give him another look of utter confusion and disbelief. He was met with a shit-eating grin. Taako rolled his eyes and continued writing. “You ass.”

Kravitz laughed at his own joke like a dork, and also maybe a little bit at how the pen tickled his hand. “I’ll be sure to bring you something pretty.”

Taako definitely wasn’t opposed to that. His wardrobe needed some upgrades, but he was literally doing this because Kravitz got him something too pretty. Well, that and because he’s hot.

“Just bring your cute face and you’re all set, then. Anyway, text me later, I’ll give you the details, cool?”

“Yeah,” Kravitz said, looking at the number written messily on his hand. “Cool.”

“Alright, it’s a date. Now get out of my kitchen.” Taako said, pushing him out the back door.

Even as he was being shoved out, Kravitz felt a smile, wide and genuine, on his face. That went better than he could’ve ever expected. The back alley he found himself in was a perfectly private place to portal himself back into the Astral Plane. He went to his quarters before his Queen could tease him about the dopey smile that had no plan on leaving his face any time soon. He sat at his desk and added Taako’s contact to his phone. He held the phone to his chest as he swiveled from side to side in his office chair. Then he stopped and slammed his hands on the desk.

“Wait, did he say date?”

[sloshi]

Title: The Book of Shinigami

Pairing: SASUSAKU

Summary: AU. With an air-starved gasp, she shot upwards into a sitting position, gaping up at him. She stared straight into his eyes as she became rigid; paralyzed with fear. There was no mistake. She blinked—once, twice, thrice, never once tearing her horror-struck viridian eyes from his. The blood drained from his face. 

Link to it on ff.net

Eventual multi-chapter

Prologue

“Sakura-chan! Look out!”

Sakura snapped her head to her left as her feet froze to the pavement beneath her tiny white-flowered sandals. The headlights; bright, blinding, and flying towards her at an unforgivable speed were two blazingly white eyes that bathed her completely in their washed-out spot lights. Her eyes widened, glazed over with horror as the glaring headlights drew nearer and nearer. Her lips parted ever so slightly, perhaps to scream—

—but was swiftly silenced by the crack of a windshield.

————————————————————————

What really happens, when we die?

The age old question has perplexed the human race since the beginning of time. Perhaps because it is the one thing we all experience; the single event we all have to face in the end. And, whether you lived your infinitesimal life as a saint or tainted your soul with sin, you died just the same.

Death did not discriminate.

On the contrary, death was the one thing—the one phenomenon—that brought individuals together. And although death brought with it despair, it seemed, as unlikely as it may sound, to also bring with it peace. Hunched shoulders—garbed in black and heavy with anguish—brushed one another, differences aside, as the humans mourned their lost loved one together; as a whole. They assembled around what he knew was a casket—the dead’s final physical resting place—but did not bother to attempt to peak through the slits in the dark mass of mortals to confirm it. Their black umbrellas shielded their fragile bodies from the icy rain drops that fell in a torrent around them.

Sasuke stood invisible to the human eye, behind the mass, waiting impatiently for the soul of the deceased to rise and find him as thunder rumbled in the sky—the dead always tried to prolong their fate. Purple lightning branched across the black clouds just above them, illuminating the somber crowd for only a flicker of moment. Although he could feel the rain drops pelting his pale skin and dampening his raven locks, he made no move to cover himself. A shiver shot up his spine, and the sensation itself was almost strange, forcing him to feel somewhat as if he were human again. And although it was a rare, fleeting moment, he could not help the guilt that tightened his chest with the unexpected nostalgia.

He was, by definition, still a physical being. He knew that. But sensations were not the nearly same as they had been when he was once human—they didn’t feel the same. They weren’t the same. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what cold rain actually felt like against a warm body. But, his body was not warm. There was no contrast between the icy rain and his cold skin.

Because he was not alive.

Another rumble of thunder shook the sky and—as if on queue—a wispy, transparent and horror-struck soul rose above the crowd—imperceptible by the mortal eyes around them—and Sasuke almost sighed in relief. Almost. He did not want to spend another second in the numbing rain; he did not want to be reminded that he, too, was once among the living.

Humans, he thought bitterly, were truly pathetic. He watched the soul levitate hesitantly above the group who were still mourning him. They were messy, unorganized, primitive creatures; all diseased flesh and bone. But, above all, they were pitiful; every last one of them were cowards in the end. ‘Please’ their souls would beg on their knees, looking upon his dark winged form with large, teary eyes and runny noses—as if he would truly spare their miserable lives.

He couldn’t anyway, but if he could; he wouldn’t. Why should he? What made each and every one of them so special that they believed with all their heart that they would be spared?

Everyone dies. Every last living thing. Even him, eventually. Time turned endlessly and it stopped for no one. And when time finally decides that a life has reached its end—its fate—it will be done, and by his very hands. No one being can delay the inevitable; not him, nor their gods they prayed so fervently to.

Well, all except for one—a being he would rather burn himself alive than ever beg in all his lifetime.

“Oh, man!” A voice laughed behind him, causing him to tense slightly in surprise and wrenching him from his strange, distracted thoughts, “I thought that guy was never gonna’ let go of his body!” Sasuke turned to throw an icy glare over his broad shoulder at his partner, who seemed completely unfazed by the daggers that Sasuke was shooting at him with hardened, onyx eyes. His partner blinked back with innocent, violet eyes before casting him a toothy grin, one that always eerily reminded him of a shark, “I’m just sayin’—I hate when they do that. I mean, we don’t have all day, buddy. We got places to go and souls to take.” He chuckled at his own dry humor.

Sasuke turned back to his task with a grimace, ignoring the man behind him with little effort, and found that the soul was now searching around frantically, unsure as to what he was supposed to do—or where to go. When his translucent-like blue eyes met his own, their eyes widened with surprise, flickering nervously to the sheath on Sasuke’s hip which held his kusanagi, and then looked beyond him—at Suigetsu no doubt—before retuning their alarming gaze back to him. It was an older man, for which Sasuke was thankful, as he assumed he would have no problem with crossing him over—unlike the younger, untamed souls he’d had to deal with in the past. Older souls were more likely to accept their death in peace, and without a fight. He could not say the same for children and their selfish mothers.

The soul studied him in mistrust, but before it could come to its conclusion, Sasuke held out his hand in a gentle coaxing gesture, as if to offer the promise of safety. Carefully, albeit unsurely, the soul levitated towards him, drifting over the sea of umbrellas below. Sasuke reached a little further out to him—

—when a muffled, high-pitched scream filled his ears.

At once, Sasuke took a hurried, uneven step backwards and slapped his hands flat over his ears to silence the tormenting sound. The soul, as if the silent promise had been broken with a snap, began to hover backwards in fear before it flew off into the distance—he was getting away!

“Sasuke, what the hell?” he heard his partner scream, but could not grasp his thoughts as the high-pitched scream ricocheted around his skull—bouncing around his conscious like an angry pinball. Sasuke hardened the pressure of his hands against his ears, falling onto his knees in the mushy, wet mud below, shaking his head back and forth violently as if he could break loose the scream from his mind. His ears were surely bleeding, and as he tried to pry open his eyes—with great effort—he could see the muddy grass below him blur in and out of focus. Despite this, he was still painfully aware of the consequences that would befall him if the soul managed to escape.

“S-Suigetsu—“ Sasuke managed through gritted teeth, “stop—him!”

He barely registered when Suigetsu zoomed past him, unfurling his gigantic ivory wings and taking off into the black sky in hot pursuit without a word. After Suigetsu was long gone, and a few more excruciating minutes—which felt like hours—passed, the scream finally came to a halt. A sharp ring lingered in his ears and Sasuke fell forward onto all fours with a wave of incredible relief, and his slender fingers squelched in the mud. Huffing, he desperately swallowed breath after breath as his ‘heart’ thrummed against his ribcage. What in the hell was that?

He slowly picked himself up, staggering a bit, and scowled at the mud on his hands before wiping them off angrily against his already sullied black shihakusho. The crowd of mourning humans before him—undisturbed in their ignorance—broke off at the fringes as they began to disperse, their pale faces sunken with grief as they passed by him—and through him, which always came with an uncomfortable tickling sensation. He hated when they did that.

That scream, he realized soberly, was indeed a soul. A very anguished, tormented soul. He could feel it now as it pulsed hysterically in his conscious. It was beaconing towards him—as souls usually do when they were ready to be taken from their hosts—in the far off distance, deep within the confines of the city’s skyline. But… it was…

The soul was fighting with tremendous strength against crossing over. A fire lit within him as he knew this was something he simply could not allow. His fists curled up into shaking rage at his sides. How dare someone—a human—he corrected himself dangerously, cause him such physical pain! He had never in this life experienced something as harrowing as that scream. No soul had ever reached into his conscious like it had just moments ago. He felt disturbed.

Within seconds, his giant raven-feathered wings unfurled with a resounding flap behind him before he launched himself off the ground—which crumpled underneath his feet with his take off—and shot headlong into the gloomy sky. His wings carried him far over the treetops of the central park and into the city as he zig-zagged in between the towering human infrastructures that reached miles into the sky. He caught an air draft between the massive buildings, allowing himself to glide sideways steadily and ride the air stream over the bustling streets of downtown Konoha with ease. The rain had ceased—to his satisfaction—but the scowl on his face remained nevertheless.

——————————————————————————————

It was not hard to locate the temperamental fool of a soul.

As he swooped down, he suspended himself around twenty feet above the chaos. There was unnecessary screaming below—though it was not even a fraction of the blood-curdling scream he had heard before—and he looked downward with a frown, where the streets had already been blocked off by what had been a motorized accident by the looks of it. He’d seen those before—many times. They were often gruesome deaths—blood splattered as far as the eye could see.

A flashing ambulance was stationed at the scene below him in the middle of the road and several humans gathered around in dare he say: excitement—how thrilling it must be to watch another die, he mused in disgust as dozens of them swarmed like ants to a sugar cube—all seemingly coming out of nowhere. They obscured his view of the dead. He could just barely make-out the tiny legs that lay motionless under all the frantic hands. A very blonde head blocked his view from the other side of the girls body. He was hunched over her, his hands pressed against her cheeks. Even though his face was not visible, Sasuke knew the man was grieving by the trembling of his body. Scowling, he lowered himself a bit more, utilizing his wings to flap against the air resistance and keep his height level. A silver-haired medic, who had been rudely blocking his front view, moved slightly out of the way, rubbing some sort of metal equipment in his hands together with sparks. As the medic moved out the way for the tiniest of moments, he saw a girl—with long pink hair—lying in a pool of her own blood and her short, green dress was blood-smattered. His left wing twitched. Was this the soul who had tormented him only minutes ago? This girl—no, young woman, had caused him such inconvenience? This slight a thing? He frowned slightly, before finally blinking in boredom, only to stiffen in surprise.

That was when he caught a glimpse of her wretched soul.

As the silver-haired medic leaned over her motionless body, he touched two metal objects to either side of the girls chest—screaming ‘clear’ or something of the sort—and her body immediately convulsed, sending her soul flip-flopping out of her body—like a fish out of water—with a piercing scream and he winced, before it was sucked back into its physical shell, to his relief. His eyes widened marginally at the peculiar sight. He had seen plenty of souls return to their bodies, but simply because it was not their time—but this… Her soul was literally screaming at him—through his head—and she was fighting her death, tooth and nail. And somehow winning. Aiming a scowl below him, he quickly held his hand out forward, willing the item he pictured in his head to come forth, and, with a ‘pop’, a small black book appeared in his slender hands. He opened it, leafing through its contents impatiently before stopping on a single ivory page that had the word ‘assignment’ scrawled at the top in neat, inked pen.

He narrowed his eyes. It was blank—which meant that Suigetsu must have caught and lassoed the runaway spirit from earlier and was successful. Perhaps the girl is to live after all, he wondered bitterly as he stared hard at the blank piece of paper. But, before he could snap the book shut with a grimace, a single name, written in large, artistic calligraphy, slowly materialized across the page, along with a faded profile picture of a very pink haired girl and her green eyes were large—almost innocent in their human nature.

Sakura Haruno.

Tch. He snapped the book shut with a triumphant smirk, and the book disappeared in a tiny puff of smoke. It was time for payback, after all; he would make her crossover very painful. It was only fair—an eye for an eye. Before he began his decent; he stretched his wings outward as they steadied themselves—carrying him elegantly to the ground in a slow downward spiral, like a deployed parachute had attached itself to his back. The cold air ruffled through his charcoal feathers—an amusing feeling—and retracted to his back as he touched the ground one beige Geta sandal at a time. A few stray black feathers that had broken lose fluttered to the ground behind him in his graceful landing.

When he was firmly on his feet, he took a step forward—his view now clearer than ever before. A few of the medics stood and ushered the other humans to stay back; they obliged, but now made a human ring surrounding them and the soon-to-be dead girl. They huddled close to one another as their thrill seemed to heighten with the metal thing—a defibrillator, he remembered now, as bits of his human memory made its way back to him. It was being used to shock the young woman’s un-rising chest.

He towered over their hunched forms—glaring down at the pink-haired girl who had just unknowingly signed her own death wish with her blasted screaming. His onyx eyes flickered to the crying blond man hunched over her, whispering incomprehensible sentences over and over to her lifeless face, his tears dripping onto her cheeks and sliding down her pale skin. Sasuke’s wings twitched.  

The silver medic, now that he could see him up close, wore large circular glasses; the things humans wear when they can’t see. He fired up his equipment and Sasuke’s eyes narrowed into slits as the silver-headed medic rubbed the two metal handles together again. A futile attempt. This girl was as good as dead. The strange sound of electricity charging up—a pitch climbing in frequency—came from the machine in the medic’s hand as he prepared to deliver another shock to the feeble, motionless body below him. It was a miracle, with her weight, that she didn’t die from the delivered shocks alone. She was a tiny thing—small, fragile, and weak. Like all humans. She couldn’t have weighed more than 115 pounds if he had to approximate. Her body would waste away within hours.

“Please wake up, Sakura-chan—please—please—please—” the blond boy choked in despair over and over again as he continued to caress the girl’s pale, blood-smattered cheeks with trembling hands. The silver medic pushed his hands away hastily, making room for another attempt to save her.

“Clear!” the pitiful human bellowed as he firmly placed the electric handles onto the girl’s chest once more.

He smirked when her body—Sakura’s body—lurched, spasming for several moments before hiccuping with a finality that declared she was most certainly dead. He could hear her heart stopping and starting before it finally gave out. With her body laying still, the silence around him grew heavy, and uncomfortable. Only the scream of police sirens and blaring of car horns echoed in the city’s distance. He hated when he could feel their emotions practically tangible in the air around him. The girl—Sakura, he kept reminding himself, though he hadn’t known why he bothered to remember her name at all—was dead and the humans—the strangers—that gathered around would forget about her after she was gone. There were no feelings of sadness here; only the need to belong. Only the selfish desire to make the humans feel like they were doing something to help. He scoffed at their mocked-up tears, but was interrupted by a cry of anguish from the blond man as he cried out, grief-stricken. The blond man covered his eyes in quiet shame, tears rushing in torrents down his tanned, strangely whiskered cheeks.

After a very pregnant pause, Sasuke waited for Sakura’s soul to stir and rise to meet him—like he waited for every soul to do. Finally, after beginning to doubt she had not actually died, her soul roused from her body and sat up—separated—from her lifeless one.

Finally, he breathed to himself, he could snuff out her annoying spirit and move on. She seemed to notice him then, as he held out his palm to her, as was his usual routine when coaxing souls to come with him into the afterlife, and waited for her to catch on. Her eyes were bright green, even in their transparency, as they looked to his palm, back to him, and then back to his palm with piqued curiosity. Come, he snapped impatiently to her, waggling his fingers in agitation. She reached out to him, slowly—their fingertips brushed and he felt her soul begin to pull toward him like a magnet as he mentally tried to yank her into the afterlife.

Without warning she snatched her hand back as if she were seared by flame. Holding her harm protectively against her body, her eyes flickered with something strange; it made his wings twitch behind him in slight apprehension as he faltered. Was it anger he saw? Desperation? Determination? He did not understand.

Before Sasuke could even blink, her soul was jerked back into her body with such force that her physical body shook with the aftermath.  

With an air-starved gasp, she shot upwards into a sitting position, gaping up at him. She stared straight into his eyes as she became rigid; paralyzed with fear. There was no mistake. She blinked—once, twice, thrice, never once tearing her horror-struck viridian eyes from his. The blood drained from his face.

Startled and visually disturbed, he took a staggering step backwards and almost stumbled over his own two feet as he returned her horrified expression with one of his own.

No. It’s not… He took another wobbling step backwards. Possible…

He knew then—without a shadow of a doubt—that she could see him.

That was when she screamed.

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PLEASE let me know what you think! I’ve revised this prologue like a million times, and it’s still not perfect. I would like to make this multi-chap in the future. 

[hornyorca]

Hurricane.

Ivar x Crippled!Reader.

This is from the prompt I made: Imagine, while on a raid, Ivar discovers someone else who’s legs are just like his.

Yes, Sigurd is alive, kma, let’s just say this was while they were in England with the huge ass fuck me army.

I don’t know where this is going bye.

. ALSO THIS IS REALLY LONG IM SORRY BUT I GOT REALLY INTO THIS.

Warnings: abuse, sensitive content, slight!suicidal thoughts/words, atheism, abandonment, and probably more stuff but I can’t think of anything right now.

A gentle chirping echoed through the morning, brushing along your ear like the chilling spring breeze, and foggy eyes bore to the rose’ sky as gold began to peak over the roofs of cottages. Eventually, your expression became half-lidded as light poured into bare pupils, and the sound of crow’s calling out-weighed the innocence of morning-doves. But even the birds as black as night could not drown out the piercing shouts of harsh tongues that began to grow ever closer, darkness fluttering in feathers across the horizon, leaving you far behind as they escaped from such a tainted presence — yours or theirs? A soft voice rattled your head in wonder, your neck rolling and popping as you shifted, splinters working their way through the fabric of your dress as your discomfort became greater. Despite it a part of it that hung by a shredded thread, the last part of your dwindling faith asked in apathy to God: have you no sympathy left to give a sinner a second chance? Has the rest of the world worn you so thin?

The brandishing laughs, and the reason you began to see figures trekking through the thick fog should have been reason enough to diminish faith in your soul. That whore, that whore, your mind chanted, causing you more discomfort. But as you twisted in a feeble attempt to gain comfort, something warm raced down the palm of your hand and dangerously played on the tips of your fingers. Crawling in your brain, you heard nothing but the taunting voices that haunted your life, and there was a thump-thump, repeatedly throwing your head back against the thick wood that held your spine taunt. There was still so much inside of you as memories relapsed, the beating of your heart matching the strength of a black smith’s hammer; she had angered the Lord, and you were the punishment upon them, and to the demons, a sacrifice would go.

The spawn would be the perfect offering, would it not?

Curling, your teeth bared in the holy light of the sky, damning it as you began to thrash in your binds, a dry cry ripping through your sore throat. They were coming, they would see you before the deserted area, and your once idol only knew what they would do to you. The pain that coursed through your wrists did nothing to stop you, nor did the tears pouring down your nipped cheeks blind you from seeing them closer, and as the hounds sniffed the air, it was the scent of fresh blood in the melting snow that caught their senses. Your form rippled, shivering as the cold began to slowly set in like your fate, and burly demons surrounding your ascending form, one of them sat upon his throne that was carried by a pure stallion. 

A crow upon a straw roof screeching was the only sound you were still alive, and despite the situation, all the adrenaline began to catch up with you as you laughed and growled, slamming your skull against the post once more. They began to talk among your episode of mania, and the sharp rolls of their tongues made you wonder how anything could be more dangerous in this world. Through a now calmer sense, despite the heaving of your chest and the heated stares you were receiving from each of them, one word made your blood boil as it was spoken with utter disgust: Christian.

You spat as hard as you could, seeming to catch the attention of the conversing group, and especially the man who sat upon his throne who looked like he had suddenly made a very important decision.  “Fuck you,” Whether they could understand you clearly or not, but the malice in your voice and your snarl would surely get a message across. Though, it was not the answer you thought to receive — a flash of metal glinted in flight, and you were forced to stare at your reflection from the corner of your eye, oxygen releasing from your lungs.

The reflection of a devil, but the blade of an axe embedded beside your head would not be the only mirror you would glance in that day.

Despite the stillness that numbed you, and the ocean that became restless in your veins, there was nothing in the shock that wavered on your face, even as a red streak dripped down your temple. There was a round of laughter and cheers, seeming as though they thought you had been put in your place, but the man in his chariot immediately urged his horse closer, the white fur almost glittering as his gaze stripped you to the core. There was something about this demon, one that did not stand in any of the men there, even the ones that copied his eyes. His arms crossed, resting atop the rim of his throne as he leaned over, and it seemed for a moment there was nothing else in existence as you defiantly held the demon’s gaze. “Death stomps your holy ground and snaps at your feet, yet you throw insults and do not plead in fear?”

His English was a surprise, sounding wrong from his accented tongue, but it was oddly comforting to you. Rolling your stiff jaw, you knew there was no chance in fighting for your life, a thing you no longer cared for, so a calm washed over your being and your muscles went lax in your tight binds. “Why should I fear a kinder fate than I have been cursed with?” A part of you hoped this would end soon, this toying game of the hunt, and the next thing that would touch your skin would be a sword piercing through your skull.

The demon spoke, causing several men to act without hesitation. They crowded you, your face curling up in disgust as hands crawled around your body, bracing yourself for anything they were to touch or grab, but you were unprepared for the sudden shift in gravity as your binds were cut. Weight dropped, crushing to your legs and the pain that shot you like an arrow caused you to scream, but there was no crack before you fell to the barren ground. Instinctively you tried to catch yourself, only resulting in sliding, sharp rocks biting at your skin as you steadied. A foreign shout echoed the quiet group and it was then the crowd cheered, celebrating for what you did not know, but they began taking off in separate directions; kicking down doors to empty houses, ripping through food stalls, prying open barrels and boxes. “Where have the rest of you gone?”

A shaky breath escaped your lips, little clouds rolling upwards, but you could not find the strength within to lift your head and properly address the predator that spoke, though, the wondering eyes did not escape. “Ran,” You explained, the dirt spreading across your skin as your upper-half shifted, lips curling back at the spreading sting. Hopefully dead, darkness added, the screech of a raven ringing in your ears louder, the muscle under your eye twitching.

Despite how cold the ground was, the snow that leaked through your dress was almost inviting as it numbed your skin. It slowed your thoughts, your movements, as you raised your head a bit, glancing up through your lashes at the six men who were gathered in front of you like an alter, and flashes of armor and hair shifted behind them. “They left you behind?” A softer voice reached your ears, seeming almost surprised at the thought. 

Snapping up, your eyes met his almost instantly, a beautiful blue like all six of them were a little wide, though this one was famed with golden hair. Though, you remained impassive, peeking your tongue out to race your bottom lip. “Is it in your nature to ask stupid questions?”

Why had they not driven a sword through your heart? An axe through your skull? Ended your pain and suffering ? Perhaps they were going to toy with you first and see what all makes you tick and squirm.. whoever can make you scream the loudest wins?

Far from the reaction you expected, two of them burst out in laughter  — one clutching onto his carriage as the joyous noise escaped him, the other giggling manically, “Only him.” Stated the king, amusement lacing his voice has he came down him high, now relaxing and staring at you in half-lidded wonder.

Fingers twitching, the blonde was no where near amused, his hand nearing his rusted blood-soaked weapon. “Talk like that, you sound like you want to die.” His voice held much promise, one you were expecting him to keep.

“Go ahead,” You offered, immediately rolling on your back, shivering noticeably as the freezing temperature tried to paralyze you. Spreading your arms out, your eyes dropped tight and had you not been such a disgrace, you could of describe yourself as being crucified, but it was only water and your own sweat sticking to you and not blood. Yet.. “I have been left here as an offering, so take it. Let the blood of a whore’s pathetic crippled appease you.”

A dog barked, dove’s coo’d despite the hell that wandered the land and the silence around had never sounded so loud. “What did you just say?”

Fluttering your eyes open, confusion curled on your features as you looked up, selfishly drinking in the tanned sight of the king on his chariot, who was now hanging to look at you. His blue eyes were colder than a winter storm, his jaw taunt, fingers flexing around the rim of his throne. “I told you to kill me.”

“No, not that... “

“You are a crippled?” A small amount of astonishment.

“I want to hear her say it!” The dark one shouted, snapping like a wolf, silencing the man that stood beside him who bore a scar on his forehead. 

A low rumble resonated in your chest as you continued to lay on your back, spread wide for anything. “Yes,” A hiss, disgust seeping in your words and the child inside of you wanted to curl, shielding your soul away from the sneering glances and lashing words. “Taunt me, laugh at me  — say what you will for it no longer bothers me.”

It was then you found little breath in the glimpse of vulnerability that swam in his oceans, the blue almost glittering in the snow as you held his sight. A few foreign words flew through the air and two pairs of hands were grabbing your arms, manhandling you up, your limp legs dangling below you as each arm was slung over a shoulder, and they bought you dangerously close to the devil. “Who are these people?” 

For a moment, there was confusion in your mind until you realized he meant those who tormented you, treated you less than human and showed you what it was like to be a wild animal, and suddenly a strange shyness cloaked your being, an innocence peaking in your soul that you never remembered having. The nipping of the breeze did nothing to help the pink that dusted over your cheeks, and your head dipped, suddenly unable to withstand his gaze. “Everyone,” The heaviness in your voice seemed to be understanding.

Warm fingertips ghosted your chapped lips before your jaw was cupped, head tilted up and for the first time that you could remember, you felt accepted as his calloused thumb stoked the dimple above your chin. “What would you do if you found them?”

Something spilled from you, a heaviness in your eyes and breath bellowed from your mouth, a waterfall of clouds rolling through the air. Never so openly would you share your thoughts with someone, unable to understand what was happening to you. “I would kill them all.” 

That whore, that whore, your mind chanted.

He said nothing with clouded eyes, only jerking his head in the direction behind him and suddenly you were carried to the back of his carriage. Wide eyed, you quivered, not fully processing the things you had just shared, what was happening or what was to come. Sitting you down on the back of the carriage, your legs dangled over and out of curiosity you glanced to the man who was straddling his chair. In that moment, you understood nothing  — not the foreign words that were spoken back and forth and shouted, not even the English words that were spoken...

All you could focus on were the bound legs of the devil on his throne.

[wyverntooth]

G’s Core Pt 2

(Undertale is property of Toby Fox, thus I hold no legal rights to it. CORE!Frisk is Dokudoki’s creation, Gaster!Sans is commonly found in Echotale and or Underpatch which were created by Yoralim and Borurou respectively, ERROR!Sans was created by Lover of Piggies and Axetale is the creation of Bananafrappe and Azulandrojo while most of the artwork for their AU comes from Mercy-Monster. These are all ideas I’ve borrowed and they’re to be credited with these things, although this story is my creation so thanks for reading and please check the earlier mentioned creators out. Please enjoy!)

Every Journey Begins With One, Hellish Step

“….” G stared in silent bewilderment at his companion’s unconscious state, barely able to register the transparency his companion had begun to display. His silence would be broken, however, the frigid zephyrs trying to drain him of the little body heat he could retain as snow began to fall from above with a desperate haste to reach the ground beneath his boots. “Sorry, but I won’t be able to survive in this weather if I stay out here. I’ll see you when you wake up, kid.”

Pulling over his hood and zipping his jacket, G strode into the forest, casting a hesitant glance back at CORE!Frisk before quietly scoffing. They’ll be fine. They always are. Besides, they have to decide whether or not they’re tangible, so they’re safe from hypothermia or those ‘ravenous beasts’ they mentioned. G thought assuredly, a smirk coming to his face as he made his way towards one of the Guard Barracks.

The snow crunched beneath his boots, accompanying his every breath and step, the forest’s quiet wildlife boding poor tidings later. Didn’t matter, though. Once he got to the barracks, he’d have access to the public records and provisions. Frisk said that the population’s been cut by zero-point-3 percent, which may or may not be a lot depending on the time frame we’re given…He stopped, the sound of his boots crunching snow ceasing as he swept the heavily wooded landscape with his eyes.

Something’s not right. He thought to himself, certainty in his being. Wait….Looking around cautiously, he summoned a pair of long, nondescript bones to his hands. His breathing was all he heard, the quiet birds and rodents having gone silent. 

“When it’s silent in the forest, there’s a predator nearby.” CORE!Frisk’s words rang in his head, their familiarity with that subject having come from living in a man-made Hell on the surface.

Alright, G thought, supraorbital ridge furrowing in seriousness. If Frisk’s right, than who is it I’m up against? The Dog Guard, perhaps? This is their modus operandi: stalking their prey ‘til it’s far enough away from the beaten path that it won’t find its way back… A rustling of feathers made him lift his head to find a crystal-feathered avian staring down at him from the branches above in its nest. Okay, it’s just a drake, nothing to worry about…

His thought was proved wrong when the creature above him snarled, its teeth slick with blood and dust, making the Revenant’s eyes narrow as he took a stance similar to that of Papyrus. Looks like those lessons Fell!Pap gave me are going to finally be put to good use.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, he found the Drake diving at him with its razor like talons ready to tear into his being, forcing him to slide away as the avian monster sank its fierce claws into the spot where he’d stood not a moment before before turning and charging for his head. G, seeing how the maddened creature’s eyes practically burning with desperation, slammed the bone in his left hand onto the ground and flipped above the mastiff-sized raptor to land behind it with a swing for its head.

The blow landed, but instead of incapacitating it as intended, G’s senses swam with data concerning the beast before him. “LV: 7  HP: 20/20  ATK: 15  DEF: 6  EXP: 2  NEXT: 30″ These numbers, as inconsistent as they were, explained a lot about this creature’s life. Despite being a bird of prey, a Drake wasn’t usually battle intuitive or aggressive, and yet this one was holding up against a blow that could’ve concussed a Royal Guard in the central timeline of their multiverse.

Said reptilian-avian screeched, sinking its jaws into G’s shoulder as a reward for his lapse in focus. Jolting in pain from his unconscious observation, G willed the bone in his right hand to undergo a transmutation, grafting the bone in his right arm into a casing with the skull of a blaster around his fist which he subsequently used to remove the foul poultry from his now damaged shoulder.

His stats held themselves in his mind, the knowledge that Sans and Gaster’s fusing into him bringing him what he was still a bitter taste in his mouth. “LV: 13  HP: 70/70  ATK: 130  DEF: 130  EXP: 60  NEXT: 254″ The skull over his fist glowed, G’s high magic output giving it an artificial facsimile of power and sentience, only to be shattered over the encroaching Drake’s brow with a punch.

Its eyes vacated of life and its body fell to the snow covered ground, every molecule of its being beginning to quiver in ecstatic madness as it prepared to become dust. “No you don’t!” G said sternly, flooding magic into his hands and the creature he’d felled, his intent alien to any other than himself.

The bird’s body ceased to quiver and yet its eyes still remained vacant of life, as if it were any empty shell yet to be filled. It croaked out a strange chirp, a grim smile crossing G’s face as he returned his bone staff back into the ether from whence it came.

“That’s more like it…Now then,” Turning away from the empty eyed bird, G looked towards the general direction of the barracks he’d come this far for, with a groan. “Back to walking.”

The barrack door creaked with neglect, its hinges fighting against themselves to move in the frigid air that threatened to snuff the warmth from all life in the forest. G sighed heavily, scowling at the cold, dark place he’d held such hope in finding. Fitting, that a monster would seek a cold, dark dwelling instead of the outside world. He’d have chuckled if not for how peeved he was with the bird he’d recruited as his thrall.

During his trek, it hadn’t shut up or behaved with any semblance of intelligence outside of premature sentience displayed by a child. Every tree was so interesting to it that it had to circle it three time before climbing to the highest branches that could support its weight. This wasn’t something G appreciated at all, if put in mild words.

Even his memories as Gaster told him that children weren’t this easily distracted or poorly behaved. Said avian dived under him with its scaled belly acting like that of a penguin, knocking G flat on his ass as a result and getting him to growl in disapproval. “Thrall!” G said firmly, rising to stand and see his psuedo-puppet to be frozen before him like a toy soldier. “Cease this unruly behavior, you sphenopalatine ganglioneuralgic half-grounded Achiyalabopa-wigeon crossbreed, or so help me; I’ll make your undeath a Hell worse than this one you’ve been in!”

It merely blinked its lifeless eyes at him before returning to whatever it had been doing before, G’s quiet groan audible to only himself. If I’d gotten a Caladrius, an Alicanto or even an actual Achiyalabopa, this wouldn’t be a problem. He silently stewed, glaring venomously at the mastiff-sized avian’s turned head. But I got a Drake: a near-flightless, avian with as little intelligence as a newborn when enthralled! Why did I think this would be a suitable thrall?! Am I going soft?! Am I getting sentimental?!

Despite knowing the answers to these questions, G continued his internal queries as he entered-closing the door behind him with his left heel-and took a seat on one of the numerous bunk beds occupying this small barrack. Sighing heavily with a drag of freshly lit cigarette, G admitted to himself what he hated to think about. I’m desperate for companionship.That’s why I enthralled this stupid, fucking bird.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, he found said avian in front of him with a small book in one of its talons and its mouth agape in something similar to the smile a pet would give its owner. “Thanks, Thrall….I’m sure I’ll enjoy reading it.” G said, a rueful smile crossing his face as the bird gave him the book and darted after something only its falsely-resurrected eyes could self-deceive.

“Go have fun, Thrall…”Taking another drag of his cigarette as he stared out the window into the dark, blizzard-beaten forest outside, G muttered under his breath, “This is gonna be our home for a while, so we might as well get comfy.” Falling back into the bed, he propped open the book Thrall had given him, the cherry of his cigarette illuminating the words of the first page.